#but ros just didn't make room for them all

[silver-inked-quill]

Hi can I make a Loki or a Bucky or to be honest anyone request.

Can the reader just be all sweet and quiet but loves to read absolutely filth (I think you know what I mean ) and one day she leaves a book out or something and whoever picks it up and expects it to be all sweet and lovely but it’s just filth

Thanks in advance x

Love the work by the way and i hope you are having a great day x love ya

Pinned

Words: 1010

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: mentions of intimacy but mostly fluff

requests are open | masterlist

Bucky Barnes

I unlocked the door at the house, it was dimly lit. “Y/N?” I called, my voice lowered. I knew she was working over time these days and she was returning home later than usual. I walked further to the living room to see her curled on the couch. The laptop open in front of her but her lids shut. i let out a slow chuckle setting the computer aside and slowly removed her glasses, setting them next to her. She looked so peaceful and eased. It was a rare occasion for her to sleep throughout the day. She is usually so energetic and multitasking, like cooking for the next day while analysing the DNA results of a sample given to her in her lab.

I leaned in and kissed her forehead and walked to our bedroom ro change into something comfortable and take a blanket, as I gently unfolded it to cover her figure a book fell, it was one of those literary choices she always bought but I have never seen her read… I rested the blanket on her and she gently got it and covered herself over her head. I took the book, too curious for my own good as I sat in the kitchen to read her book-

Reader

I stretched, the familiar scent of the blanket that tucked around me and I smiled as I knew that Buck had come back. I sat on the couch, wearing my glasses and dragged my feet to the kitchen following the smell of something that was being baked. “Smells like pizza” I murmured rubbing my eye as I smiled at his sight in the kitchen. “Look who is awake” he commented and kept doing something on the counter without allowing me to see it. I approached and snuck my hands around his waist cuddling behind him. “What are you preparing?” i asked, my head rested on his back. “Perhaps… i will let you sneak a peak-” he said and i tried to sneak in under his arms but he turned around and held my waist pinning me on the island counter top behind me. Buck hovered above me, his hands stroking my waist “now now… I didn't way you could see did i?” he said as one hand tilted my chin upwards, i let out a nervous chuckle and looked up at him. i blushed “Buck- are you okay?” i asked and he leaned down close to me “Why?” he said, i could smell his breath “you are weirdly on? not- not that i am complaining” i giggled and looked up at him. He smirked and his lips brushed mine in a slow but savoring kiss.

I let out small whimper my hands around his neck, it was a reflexive motion, his one hand wrapped around my waist and his other holding my jaw. He broke the kiss looking down at me “are you alright?” i asked looking up at him flushed by the kiss. He smirked “again pretty why would you ask?” he said and i raised an eyebrow. “Because you are mysterious… i mean more than usual and in a very interesting way that makes me-” i was to say but i pause trying to find a polite way to say how hot he is. “makes you what love?” he asked me and i looked.

I swallowed, my eyes flickering to his lips before meeting those stormy blues again. “Makes me… weak,” I whispered, a small, shy smile tugging at my lips.

Bucky’s smirk deepened, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “That so, doll?” he murmured, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of my mouth. It was slow, lingering — like he wanted to memorize the feel of me under his touch.

Before I could answer, he reached behind me, and to my utter horror, pulled out the book I’d left on the couch.

My eyes widened. “Wait — Buck! You didn’t —”

“Oh, I did,” he cut me off, holding it up like evidence in a trial. “You’ve been hiding this from me, huh?” His grin was wicked now, playful and full of mischief.

My face flushed hot, and I buried it against his chest, groaning. “I can’t believe you read that!”

“I didn’t say I finished it,” he teased, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. “But enough to know you’ve got… interesting taste.”

I peered up at him through my lashes, mortified. “It’s just a story!”

“A story, huh?” he chuckled, brushing my hair back behind my ear. “Didn’t peg you for the type to read about forbidden kisses in hidden gardens and dangerous, brooding men who pin their lovesick heroines to walls.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned, my hands covering my face as heat flooded my cheeks.

He laughed, pulling my hands away gently. “Hey, no need to be shy. Kinda flattering, actually. Guess I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing.”

“I… might,” I admitted in a tiny voice, and Bucky’s gaze softened, though that smirk never left his lips.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got a little practice being the brooding type,” he teased, leaning in so his nose brushed mine. “And I can definitely handle the pinning-you-up-against-things part.”

I bit my lip, smiling despite my embarrassment. “You already do.”

“Damn right I do.” His voice was low, rough with affection. He kissed me again, this time slower, deeper — like he was trying to wordlessly tell me just how much he adored every single part of me, even the ones I tried to hide.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine. “Keep reading those stories in your head, sweetheart. Maybe one day you’ll let me be the main character.”

“You already are,” I whispered back, smiling as his eyes darkened and his arms tightened around me he pinned me upon the counter before wrapping my legs around his waist. I turned the stove off as he led me to the bedroom

Hey there gentle reader,

Sorry it took so long, I just hadn't had time to proceed with this one because i really liked it and enjoy it. I hope you enjoyed it as well. Requests are still open, i may be slow but i always pull through :)

Please tell me your opinion, your feedback is always appreciated and welcome, other than that i wish everyone to be well!

yours

Silvermist

[coffeegnomee]

gnome save me gnome save me gnome save me gnomesavw me,,,, 4c revealed a bit more abt prism by showing a secret room and its prismS now. new s!!! i immediately thought of u bc u are smart and u love these sort of things :D

- mcytegg 🥹

Ahhhhhh Veni Tegg Mcytegg I've been so busy with life I totally missed 4c updates until just now. ty ty ty for pointing it out.

I agree with the posts I just looked up about what people (and you) were saying about the flowers and colors and letters. I think the general consensus of it being the first letters of the names of people that 4c is doing this trust thing with is accurate. Colors and flower colors symbolizing mc skins. Princezam, Rekrap (sooooorry. It would be so cool if it was Ro. but ro is too purple looking and 4c has a better connection with Rek. and Rek's hoodie has bright blue), Itzsubz, Squiddo, Manepear, Spoke are my vote for the people.

My thoughts besides that:

The room was split in the middle with grass on one side and dead bushes on the other.

That puts Zam, Rek, and Subz on the growing side and Squiddo, Mane, and Spoke on the dead side. Plausibly the people who create vs the people who destroy. (shoutout Jay marshmarrows for that distinction)

Given the timeline of when 4c likely designed this room, subz was not making wardens and destroying spawn. But it was after Mane destroyed spawn even though imo he added Mane to this list from his very early season actions of protecting the chunguses of the server. Clown called him "mr. morality" in the early weeks of the server bc he would only kill people who killed defenseless players.

Which brings me to how spoke was seemingly added only after this room was made, the original signs being prism, not prismS. like you said.

I was a fan of spoke being on the original list bc of the clues squiddo dropped of spoke giving them the bugbombs and spoke alluding to making someone else into the server villains, ie FOCUS. But with the black S being last, that does feel like he was added last.

OR he added Squiddo last so that the room was even on both sides, but potentially wanted to de-emphasize them and emphasize spoke, since you see the Spoke and Zam flowers first and it's quite a nice dramatic look, the white oxyeye daisies and jet black wither roses. And it's so poetic for season 3.

I didn't like squiddo on the original list bc they're already on FOCUS and cube doesn't seem to be on this list at all and I dont like that cause of how 4c so specifically keeps saying he's loyal to FOCUS over everything else. So if one is on this list why are both not on this list ESP since this list was created after the start of the server. But Cube isn't involved as much and Squiddo has some devious sounding possible plans that keep cropping up, that possibly lead to destruction, so it makes sense for them to be on this list over Cube, esp with how this room is designed to be. (also squiddo's ign is TheRealSquiddo. not Squiddo. and the rest are ign first letters, Itzsubz and princezam. so that's also why I think they were added in for this new room rather than being included in the first)

So we have Zam and Rek being the main contenders for people who would save the season (and subz before his wardens) vs the three people who are the main contenders that would end the season.

But it is Fascinating to note how my original thought of the I in prism being i, me, like 4c is now thrown totally out because it's not in the middle anymore now that there's a second S.

Now 4c himself stands in the middle, and the "altruistim" sign stands in the middle, tearing the room in half between grass and dead bushes. "the practice of disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others." Not interested in if they deserve it or not. Not worried about himself. Only concerned with the well-being of them, but tearing himself apart in the process, leaving him wondering "who am I", thrown across the grown in colorful refractions.

And to do that he had to add an S. it's interesting to watch this concept develop in real time, while still sticking to the original idea.

Which brings me to the design of the room.

Behind each letter is a massive red pillar that waves in and out, and I jokingly described them as umbilical cords until that descriptor made more sense than it didn't. As red pillars they immediately look evil, but I would be surprised if this arc had any evil ideas behind it. The pillars attach to the ceiling, and the whole room is shaped like a cave.. or womb.

Umbilical cords give nutrients and life to the in-utero baby, all while the baby doesn't have any idea what's happening. One could say, in a weird way, 4c is giving life and aid to these players like a mother gives life and her body to the growing child in her womb.

Or they just look cool. idk.

But connecting all the 6 supposed members together with the same umbilical cord-like structures is an odd visual for how 4c views how these players are connected. Even despite which side of the room they're on.

They're not just connected to him through the giant Prism in middle of the room, made, for instance, out of a light blue stained glass (for him). If anything he IS the prism in the center, the blue object that refracts the light into different colors, revealing the hearts of those he helps.

No. They're connected to each other through the same red pillars. Or he could have easily designed each pillar with the blocks he used for the letters: each block chosen has both slabs and blocks so the detailing would have been possible. Or just not used red.

There's also this theme of redstone ores and using red dye for the "nothing is ever as it seems" sign. idk why but the redstone ores in the walls of the daisy room have always stuck out to me.

And now there's a red sign. In stark contrast to the blue-ink and white-ink signs of the daisy room.

And there's red pillars.

"nothing is ever as it seems"

Is that 4c's actions are never as it seems: that nobody on the server understands his pov.

Or that these clues are all red herrings. (RED. waiiiit)

but if Nothing is as it seems, what's the point of any of this clue giving. And yet if you just look at the letter/flower/color clues Everything seems to be Exactly As It Seems. There are literally no other lifestealers these colors could symbolize. (ok, by technicality, Ro could be the R by a very very weird turn of fate. but the tunnel rats are too close to being exactly what 4c means when he says "if they ask me for anything I'll do it")

Which just leaves me a bit flabbergasted as to what could be the Nothing that seems to be something that it is not.

Which does make me wonder (and now we're really going into conspiracy theory) if 4c wants to do an Explode Everything arc and pit the "good" side of the server against the "evil", show them they're connected and need each other for the livelihood of the sever. Maybe explode everything is too dramatic. more like mash them together and make them see how they're connected.

These are the people 4c said, "A few months ago i thought up a few people who i liked what they were doing and i thought it would be interesting to be loyal to them as well. And they don't know it.”

"liked what they were doing" not, "thought they were doing good."

and another time: “Cause if i support someones wrongs, everything they do, even if i don't agree with it, if i support it, if i do something wrong in the future i can trust that they will support me in the same way.”

And here they are, connected together, the good and the evil.

What kind of pull the strings from behind the curtain arc could this become. A make all sides have equal aide from a disinterested source that selflessly gives everything for another's benefit. All the while accidentally drawing the server into more and more conflict.

But hey, i love a good villain. And I have always thought 4c would make a fascinating world ender.

The only final thing I don't have any crack pot ideas about are why the heck are the signs around "altruism" like that. It's oak, spruce and dark oak. it's so extra. And the top line is different than the bottom.

it's just weird. 4c is so strange. But it seems significant. Some kind of continuation of the light and dark, grass and dead theme going on.

and the glass floor is prismatic rays except, and im being perfectionistic about it, prism refracting is a perfect rainbow, not a hodge-podge of rainbow colors.

but that's okay.

it's kind of interesting that it's like a river 4c walks through, that doesn't enter any of the letter's spaces. and it isn't lit up like prismatic refraction would be. But I think it is just supposed to be the prism effect.

He wades through seeing exactly how people are, what they think. Overhearing all conversations. He is the prism receiving the light from the players and understanding them completely.

Maybe that's simply what "nothing is as it seems" means. It's a continuation of the thoughts 4c has about when you see everything it hurts to choose, when you know everything how do you know what to do.

[royaldollybox]

I be real with you text post meme enjoyer, it was hard making these because I was busy crying. But I made it, so here you go. The heart killers text posts part 10 ft. ep 10 (jesus christ we in dubble didgits now)

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12

+bonus (aka probs the closest I will get to actively criticizing this show)

[toothfa-1-ry]

OUR CAFE IN JEJU

You and Dae ho plan to open a cafe in jeju after you both leave the games

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Kang Dae ho x gn!reader

It's night time, or atleast you guess it was as you sit awake, your eyes slowly drifting to all the people who slept blissfully, as if though they all didn't just witness multiple killings

The sight almost disgusted you,

Almost

Gi hun, or no. 456, the man who oddly reminded you of your father, decided that everyone should take turns watching over your group as you all slept

Currently, it was your turn,

you find yourself leaning against the cold steel railing of the bed, your feet swinging softly going along with your steady breath

You don't mind the silence, it was a good break from the constant chaos, you didnt mean only in the games but also from real life

You always did prefer the silence anyways

"Oh y/n" followed by a stretched yawn, you watch as Dae ho sleepily crawled out from underneath the bed

"It's my turn now to watch over" he says despite his eyes still being closed shut and his speech languoress "you should get some rest"

A soft smile etched your face unconsciously upon seeing his drowsy state

You swear, you almost found the very sight cute

You shake your head softly "It's alright, i don't mind staying awake. I doubt I'd get any sleep anyway. You should rest"

Dae ho's eyebrows knitted upon hearing your words, immediately waking him up from his drowsiness

"Then I guess we'll both be staying awake" he props himself next to you, his signature grin on his face

This time your the one frowning, sighing as you insist the brawny man "Dae ho, seriously it's fine, you look sleepily anyway"

But this just seemed to make him even more stubborn as he shook his head, pieces of his long hair moving along with his head causing you to laugh softly, your hand covering your mouth

Dae ho lazily smiles back at you before the both of you nestle in the silence that surrounded the entire room

"You were amazing in today's game, i feel like i haven't mentioned it enough" you nudge his shoulder as you say, choosing to be the one ro break the silence

You half expect him to tell you that it's because hes a marine and marines can do everything but instead you find him with an uncharacteristic shy smile on his face

"I just played the game alot with my older sisters" he admitted in a rather bashfull manner

You nodd your head "you guys must be really close then?"

Dae ho nodds back without much comment, you take it as a sign that he might not like talking about them much

"Sorry" he awkwardly laughs "i know I'm usually not like this"

You raise your eyebrow

"I mean" he pauses before rubbing the back of his neck, you quickly note the way his t shirt sleeve pushed back, showing his arm muscle "im usually talkative and all. I usually don't like the silence but i guess i dont mind it when I'm with you"

You bite back the warmth that attempts to streak your face as you let out a soft hum

"I know you don't like talking alot" Dae ho says as he quickly takes a peek at your face "I've noticed that you keep to yourself most of the time"

He awkwardly chuckles, looking down "maybe you don't enjoy talking that much-"

"No-" your voice interrupts him, startling both you and him with your sudden interjection

Immediately his posture straightens as he whips his head towards you, his eyes locking into yours, almost desperate to hear what you have to say

"I don't mind" the words unwittingly tumble out your mouth before you could stop yourself

You notice Dae Ho's intense gaze which noted was unusualof him, his eyes fixated on you as he hangs on to your every word

Your clear your throat "I don't mind it too" you whisper softly "talking I mean"

Dae ho blinks, once, twice, before he shakes his head lightly as if though he was in a trance

"Right. Talking" he repeats your words while still rapidly blinking

You internally curse yourself, why do you always have to say things the wrong way?

"Yea..." your voice trails off and once again the both of you were surrounded by odd tranquility

You take a glance at Dae ho, his eyes up at the piggy bank of money that hanged on the ceiling. Your eyes follow his as you stare along at the stacks of paper

"What are you gonna do after all of this is over?" You whispered out of the silence to him

Dae ho realized you saw him staring at the money, before briefly looking back at you and then the money

"Pay off all my debts I guess" he said with a tight lipped smile

"No I mean" you tilt your head towards him "after that. I'm pretty sure your gonna have some money left"

Dae ho leaned behind as he wondered outloud "uhm"

He clicks tongue when he gets his answer "that's right! I've always wanted to open a cafe"

"A cafe?" You ask puzzled, that wasn't something you'd expect from a ex marine, that too someone like Dae ho

"that's right! In jeju" his eyes sparkled as he grinned ear to ear, speaking excitedly

"oh" He turns to you "and what about you? After paying your debts. What do you want to do?"

You think thoughtfully before you contemplate your answer

"I guess i wanna start my life over, maybe somewhere in an island"

Dae ho grins brightly when he hears your words "Hey! You should come with me then"

"What?" You ask slightly taken back at his sudden invite, you didnt think he considered you to be close enough for him to invite you to join him after all this was over

"Yea it's the perfect plan !!, you wanna start your life over in an island and i want a cafe in Jeju. Well isn't jeju a island? And the best one too!!"

You almost want to laugh at his childish demeanour but you don't, instead your grin matches his as you watch him continue

"Think about it, i'll open a cafe in jeju and you can help me run it"

"Can we adopt a pet dog?" You meekly ask

Dae ho's eyes widened as if though the very fact that you had to ask him made him feel offended "ah ofcourse!" His voice boisterous which caused you to shush him

"Sorry!" He whispers while turning over to look at the people sleeping, checking if anyone awoke.

You lean in towards him as he whispers "I mean- ofcourse. We can adopt as many dogs as you want"

"I guess I'll have to start picking names from now" you quip which made him beam

"Alright! It's settled then" he points at you "you, me, and our adopted dogs will open a cafe in jeju together. You can manage the cafe and I'll make coffee for our customers"

You watch as he smiles and talk animatically, suddenly feeling downcast, you can't help it when a feeling of dejection befalls your face.

You hope that Dae Ho doesn't notice but the look on his face says otherwise as he softens his voice "Hey, are you okay? Did I go to far?"

"No, you didnt" you say with a wistful smile "It's just, we don't know what's gonna happen next. I dont know whether I'll survive the next game or not"

You hear Dae Ho take in a deep breath before releasing a deep sigh "I guess you have a point there too"

"Sorry" you feel the urge to apologise "I ruined the mood-"

But Dae Ho intervenes your apology, he won't have you saying sorry, not to him

"I guess that just gives you more reason to stick around me huh?" He says playfully, he nudges your shoulder with his signature grin on his face "i'll make sure we get out of here together no matter what"

You snort, an attempt to hide your amusement but he catches on. He always did when it came to you

"Hey seriously!" he puts his hand in his chest when he begins reciting in a loud voice "I, Kang Dae Ho promise to take y/n l/n to jeju and open a cafe together"

You cover his mouth with your hand amidst your quiet giggles "people are sleeping silly" you scold him, despite your light tone and the smile on your face

Dae ho shuts up, but the twinkle in his eyes says otherwise

"Y/n" he whispers as he sticks out his pinky finger towards you "Promise me too"

"Promise you?"

"Promise me that when we get out of here, we'll both restart out lives in jeju"

You interlock your pinky with his, he noticed the spark in your eye

"And you'll open a cafe in jeju" you continue

Dae Ho's face lit up even more than before "and we'll adopt three dogs- no five dogs!"

He corrects himself while you stifle in your laughter

"I promise to help you run it" your voice soft and warm as both of your pinkies layed interlocked with one another

"Promise"

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

The child's voice plays over the speaker as it sings the same song over again and again,

you've lost count for how many rounds this game has been going on, feeling dizzy on the spinning carousel as you feel Dae ho's tight grip on your wrist.

"Just one more time y/n" he insist to you over the blaring sound of the childish song "just one more time and this game would be over"

You nodd, unable to say anything as you sweat profusely, your heart beating rapidly

Dae ho takes in your silence as your answer as he gives you a quick nodd, turning over to look at gi hun and song il, letting go of your hand for a moment

Suddenly the carousel stops to a halt, you find yourself falling down harshly before you could even realise that it stopped

A feminine voice declares a number but your unable to coin what it was as your layed on the ground, only being able to hear the sound of people running and screaming

Dae ho looks around frantically, eyes widened when he realised your not next to him

"Y/n?" He mutters at first before he began shouting your name like a mad man

You scream his name too, but with no avail, as a hysterical crowd of people separated the both of you

Dae ho's eyes widen as his brows lift, he breaks away from jeong bae's grasp as he runs away from his team, searching for you in amidst the chaos

He doesn't realise the way his trembles or the way he stutters when he shouts your name, all he wants right now was you to be back at his side

He should have never let go of your hand

He runs around the room as he belts out your name as loud as he can, pushing people away, shouting at them while he asked whether they saw you or not

Suddenly he finds himself being pulled back by Young ill and Jeong Bae

"Wait! Wait! stop!" He screamed against their hold, thrashing and moving "y/n! They're still out there!" He hysterically screamed

Young ill gripped the younger man tightly as Jeong Bae pushed him into a room

"Time is running out, the count down has begun" jeong Bae attempts to appease to his junior who refuses to listen "im sure they'll be safe with others"

But there was an unexplainable feeling in the pits of Dae ho's stomach that says other wise. Every single cell in his body screamed at him, telling him that you weren't safe

He promised to be always by your side didn't he?

"Hyung please" he mumbled his words rapidly while clutching the arms of the two other men who held him back "hyung please! Let me go! let me go i need to find-"

Jeong Bae and Young ill push him into a room despite his refusal to enter, opposing his wishes

"Stop! Stop don't close the door" Dae ho pushes Young ill away from the door as he prys to keep it open "they're still out there-" he splutters

Young ill grabs Dae ho by the neck, putting him in a headlock while dragging him away from the door, urging jeong Bae to shut it

"The room is full" he mutters under his breath into Dae hos ear "do want all of us to die?'

"No! You dont understand" Dae ho splutters against the older man's hold, not paying attention to his words at all

"no let me go, i need y/n, i told them" Dae ho begs, his face getting red "I told them I'll protect them"

His breathing becomes more shallow and rapid when he hears the lock of the door, finally prying away from young ills grasp

He shakes his head as he tries opening the door which simply stood unmoving against his force

"No no no" he repeatedly muttered "no y/n" his sweaty palms trying to pull open the steel door while all the other two men in the room could do was look bleakly at him

"Dae ho... I'm sure they'll be safe wit-" jeong Bae words are cut short by a familiar defeaning shriek which causes Dae ho's face to pale

"Dae ho!" You scream his name as you pass by all the closed rooms, searching for him

Dae ho shouts your name back through the small hole in the door, exerting more force on trying to open the door

You press yourself to the door of the room Dae ho was in, only seeing his widened eyes

"Y/n! Y/n!" He shouted repeatedly while banging the door "Fuck the door isn't opening! Why won't the door open" he wailed while hitting the door

You whisper his name in between hiccups, your eyes filled with water as you watched him pry to open the door

"Please y/n" Dae ho sobbs "please" his breath shallow

You shake your head against the cold door "im sorry"

"Y/n?" Dae ho watches you horrified

"I'm so sorry Dae ho" you breathed out "I don't think I can come to jeju with you"

A loud bang, followed by even more shouting and screaming and more shooting could be heard

Dae ho watched as your eyes once which looked at him with joy was now lifeless and empty, he hears your body thud on the floor, he falls down along with you, body pressing to the door

Now, only the steel door being in the path of both of your bodies from being once again reunited

"Dae ho" you whisper from the other side of the door while he hears you take your last breath

"I would have loved opening a cafe with you in jeju"

[kwoniele]

don't let them hear — choi subong

synopsis: lights off meant something a little different between you and the famous choi subong, also known as thanos.

genre: smut and fluff bc theyre js exes who want eo bad LOL. green flag choi subong... say WHAT 💜

warnings: afab reader, tease, fingering, nothing else honestly

author's note: this is the first time i have ever written on this account + since my social media detox so pls bear w me if this isnt exactly up to your standards ha ha ha... ily anyway not proofread! i wrote this when it was 3am leave me be.

"lights will be turned off in ten seconds."

in a moment, the lights will dim and the only thing shedding light in the room would be the giant pig dangling from the ceiling and choi subong's pale skin that's attached to yours. ever since he told you he would be joining you in bed tonight, you couldn't deny the fact you were thrilled. your drug-addict ex boyfriend shouldn't have excited you this much. let alone the fact you were waiting for him. 

"five, four, three, two, one." now, it was fully dark. 

you sighed in disappointment. you turned away from the side subong was and decided to sleep on your own. you knew you shouldn't have trusted him at all, yet you were gullible enough to believe he'd keep his promise. and he didn't. cause if he did, he would be beside you with his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him so that you could warm one another up.

"y/n?," your eyes abruptly opened, "are you still awake?" he actually did it. he actually kept his promise.

he actually came.

you decided to play the stubborn game and not answer. but you knew that he was aware you were definitely up. "don't want me here? okay señorita. i'll leave." his footsteps began to get quieter as he 'left'. you felt guilty and decided to let him explain himself. after all, it hasn't been long since that robot woman announced it was time for bed.

"fuck you." you turned toward him, expecting him to be halfway gone already. yet you met a choi subong sitting down with his arms trapping his knees while replicating footsteps that were leaving. "wow. double fuck you.'

"please, i know you want me here. so move over." he stood up and laid down beside you as his head automatically dug itself into your chest. "i don't give a fuck if you're going to go on some lecture about how i should have been here sooner, so don't waste your time." he pecked your collarbone before adjusting his position. "i'm here with you and that's what matters. okay?"

speechless is an understatement. you couldn't even be mad. you couldn't feel the slightest anger in you because he's right there. you could see his purple hair laying on your neck.

wait. something's wrong. something's missing.

"wait. choi subong. where's the necklace?" you used two fingers to tilt his head up so you could see his eyes. they're still as pretty as ever. fuck him for having such charming eyes. 

"gone. i threw it away when i saw you rave about how you were so much happier when you quit." he stared at you. waiting for you to say something. "what? do you want me to dig my hands into the toilet to retrieve it?"

"did you seriously… get rid of it? for me?" you sat up. tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before holding his hands. you noticed the tattoo he dedicated to you. the little heart with a sun next to it because he said that you were his ray of sunshine.

"of course i did. i meant it when i told you i'd fix myself as long as we crossed paths again, you know. i don't just make promises for the sake of—" shutting him up with your lips was probably your favourite thing to do. you missed this. you missed him. you missed feeling his lips perfectly match yours everytime you leaned in to him. 

"then i meant it when i told you i'd let you fuck me whenever, wherever. hopefully you take that damn opportunity now." he analysed your face before realising you were serious. he didn't even need to say anything. he just held your face by your jaw, kissing you rougher than earlier while gently laying you down on your bed.

he took off your pants and placed it just beside the bed, sliding your panties right after it. "fuck. how long have you been this wet, hm?" his middle finger glided itself from your cunt to your clit, using your slick as lubricant to teasingly insert his finger in your hole. "was it when i told you i quit? or when you kissed me? or better yet, since you saw me?"

"fuck, subong–" his free hand covered your mouth, preventing you from letting a noise out. 

"can you be quiet for me, baby? wouldn't want to let these jackasses know i'm fucking the prettiest girl here, would you?" you shook your head, agreeing that you should be dead silent. 

you didn't even notice that he snuck a second finger, fucking you with his fingers repeatedly until your were squirming and arching your back from the bed. "that's it, baby. do just that." his thumb flicked your clit, causing you to buck your hips on his hand. 

you don't know how he understood, but you mumbled against his hand that you were going to cum. his smirk was evident in the dark room which caused you to be pushed to the edge even more. "are you going to cum? hmm? is my baby finally going to cum for the love of her life?"

all you could do was nod. it was cute to him.

when you finally reached your release, he made sure to lick off all of your juice from his fingers. you watched him slowly suck on his ring finger while intensely staring at you. "i love you. don't leave ever again. i better be the only one you do this to."

"only for you, baby. just you and me. choi subong and future choi y/n. okay?

[hazel-tanthamore22]

Jealous

Sophia lafortaza x katseye!6thmember!freader

Sypnosis: You had gotten a new hair style, now to sophia, it felt like the world was against her and everyone wanted you

Warning: a lot of jealousy, sophia is possessive as hell, swearing, Anything else I might miss

You had gone out a few hours ago, not telling anyone where or to do what. It caused you to receive some rather questioning looks but no one really liked into it, soon going back to doing their own things as you exited the kats dorm, telling them you'll be back by nightfall.

You got back relatively early, earlier than even you expected. You twist the keys and step in the house, silence engulfing the living room before you even close the door. All six other members staring, reactions kind of hard ro make out, except for Manon and Dani who's Jaws are basically on the floor.

You'd come back home with a platinum blonde wolf cut. You chuckled a bit nervously as you close the door and walk further into the house.

"OH MY GOOOD you look soo good" Dani practically squells as she rises from her spot on the couch and runs to you, fingers threading through your hair as she inspects it. Everyone but Sophia soon follows, bombarding you with questions and compliments.

Your eyes drift and meet Sophia's despite everyone else's attention being on you. Her face is neutral but there's a flicker of something else in her eyes, something you can't quite pinpoint.

The girls hover around you like, as Sophia would describe it, moths attracted to light. They stay close the rest of the day, touching you hair in every living moment the get the chance. Manon even took some pictures and posted them on weverse and Instagram

The fans, as always, were going feral. This is normal for all of them, but for some reason, Sophia didn't like it one bit. You got new hair so what? Sure you look very good right, very, very good but didn't give everyone the right to fawn over you like that.

And the next few days proved to be even worse. You gained more traction and that just meant more thirsty comments and fans shipping you with anything that breathes.

Sophia hasn't spoken about it, and hod forbid she does. She's always praised herself for not being the jealous one, so if she expresses her feelings for this shel never hear the end of it.

Anytime one of the members commented on your hair, she felt like telling them to get their hands off you. Whenever a stylist spent too long "fixing" you hair she wanted to curse them out, but she kept herself and her temper in check.

Buy today it was different. You guys had just finished a music bank performance and were with Jaehyun and Eunchae who were mcing.

You and Eunchae were close due to you being onlyva year older than her. "So n/n, you have new hair now, it looks nice" She says with her cheeky smile. "Thanks eunchae-yah" replying with a smile that mirrored hers was probably a mistake. Because that's what led to you being dragged to Sophia's dressing room after the recording was done.

"What the hell was that?" Sophia asks, her voiced laced with venom as she stares at you. "What was what?" You ask clueless, you've never seen Sophia like this, it's scary, hot, but very scary.

"Fucking flirting with other idols now that you have new hair" She almost yells, keeping herself calm, just slightly. That's when it clicked for you, she was jealous.

You walk closer to her, placing your hands on either side of her waist. "Soph, baby, are you jealous?" You ask, searching her face for any underlying emotions. "Jealous" she scoffs "don't get too full of yourself" she huffs with her arms crossed, eyes looking everywhere but you

You place a gentle kiss to her lips, which causes her to look back at you. "Sophia, you do know I love only you right" you state with a soft smile. "I like no one else bit you ok?" You pause, making sure she understands the deepness of your words "I'll tell the girls to stop touching my hair so much if it'll appease you" you search her face, looking for any hint of anger left.

Her face softens, tho having a small pout as she nods. You smile in responds, placing another lingering kiss on her lips. "I love you ok? No one can change that." You whisper with your forehead resting on hers.

The trip back to the dorm was peaceful, holding Sophia's hand while she rests her head on your shoulder was the best outcome you could've asked for after her previous feelings. And unluckily for Sophia, yoonchae had been eavesdropping and told all the members.

The next few days were filled with teasing but Sophia didn't mind for the most part, the girls stopped touching you a lot and fans soon calmed down on the swooning. She could be jealous but you love her either way, and you would make sure she knew that she was the only one you'll love.

[libbybee]

TAKEN TO THE HILT — AA

◜pairing: astarion ⨯ fem!reader ◜rating: MDNI 18+ ┊ wc: 0.6K ◜cw: vampire ascendant, predator/prey, piv, rough vaginal sex, bite kink, bodily fluids, masochism, slaps, dirty talk, marking, overstimulation.

▹ summary. “you know you’re the only one i’ll ever have like this,” he snarled roughly, breath ragged. “this cunt exists to be fucked, marked, and claimed by me. no one else could ever do this to you.”

A/N. english isn't my native language, sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

AO3 ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ PLAYLIST

‎

Your ass slammed back to collide with his hips, skin grinding together, damp with sweat and layers of his semen, which had already marked you inside and out. Each brutal thrust buried him deeper; the stretch was almost unbearable, but you craved it. Every savage inch filling you right to his base was a torment you wanted to last forever. Your pussy throbbed around him, aching with need as he pounded into your cervix relentlessly, your womb aching for every hard push deeper and driving you to the edge just to pull back again.

Astarion was feral, a twisted predator claiming his prey. His nails dug mercilessly into your hips, dragging and tugging, leaving fiery, reddened marks with every drag until he felt certain you'd wear them for days. His crimson eyes glowed in the dim light, more dangerous than ever as he stared at you, thirsty, his hunger overtaking him. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating to his senses, so rich in the air that he could taste it—a dizzying mix of your lust and his own. He could smell it on your skin and feel it in the way you squirmed beneath him and how your pussy was drooling for him. It drove him wild, more insatiable than ever. He couldn’t get enough of you—he needed more; every sharp slap on your ass was a reminder of his claim, evident not just in his hands and words but in the ferociously, almost animalistic way he rutted into you to fuck.

Your cunt was shamelessly dripping, impossibly wet with a sticky mix of your own juices and his, spilling and slicking down your thighs. Every time his balls slammed against your puffy clit, another obscene squelch echoed through the room. The sound was enough to make you flush and mewl, as it was another reminder of how fucked you were and how much you needed him. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned in close, his lips and breath hot against your ear. “You know you’re the only one I’ll ever have like this,” he snarled roughly, breath ragged. “This cunt exists to be fucked, marked, and claimed by me. No one else could ever do this to you.”

The words, the cold intensity in his voice, sent your head spinning, your entire body shaking. You could barely form a sentence, your lips trembling, every nerve alight as you choked out your own needy words. “I'm yours… All of me belongs to you, Astarion… my pussy, my body, everything…” It was a desperate confession, a cried plea broken by your own gasps and whimpers. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, digging your nails into the fabric as he ravaged you, finding your neck with his mouth to trace hungry slides with his tongue along your skin.

He didn't just kiss you—he bit you. His fangs sank deep into the soft curve of your neck, a sharp, cruel bite that made you cry out and writhe beneath him while your legs opened wider for him. It was a claim, an undeniable mark of ownership, and his teeth scraped against your flesh as he fed on the moment. The sharp sting of his bite sent a wave of heat flooding through your entire body, mixing with the pleasure he forcefully made your pussy receive and making your walls contract around him.

Each savage thrust pulled a new sound from your lips, each movement sending you higher. His weight pressed you into the bed, pinning you down, and you could feel how crudely his cock effortlessly slid in and out from your aching walls. Harder, faster, and punishing—the wet, obscene sound of his cock slamming into your drenched cunt echoed through the room just like your desperate cries of pain and pleasure. The heat between you was maddening; the way his hums of delight vibrated through your skin, making your body throb with need. You were his, completely. Every shudder, every desperate cry, every tremble was a tribute to him as he fucked you with the kind of ferocity that left you broken and begging for more.

‎

[saltcxrcle]

boyfriend headcanons ⟡ d. winchester

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1.2K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', fluff, one suggestive comment, a smidge of angst, reader is to be implied as a hunter, lowercase intended

a/n: SURPRISE! i made the dean version of bf headcanons. i stayed up until 3am making this bc my mind had ideas and i didn't want to lose them lol (ik im crazy 😁) also technically my first fic for dean lmao

i hope you all enjoy and please reblog and comment, it really helps out!!

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ before dating you:

was super attracted to you before he even said a single word to you 

it was definitely lust at first sight (he wouldn't have minded sleeping with you) 

then you opened your mouth, and he was like, oh man, they're gonna be trouble, aren't they (as if he isn't trouble as well) 

you guys bickered a lot. like A LOT to the point where sam would have to remove himself from the room or get in between you two in order to stop the bickering 

the bickering got so bad that sam had to lock the two of you in the motel room sam and he were sharing and didn't let you guys out until the two of you could have a civil conversation 

you guys eventually stopped bickering out of malice after finding common ground between the two of you 

there was bickering but it read more of an old married couple bantering with one another 

then somehow, you guys became friends, and the physical attraction that dean had to you had morphed into something else and then he realized that he liked you 

he only confessed his feelings when you had a close call with a ghoul and blurted out his feelings to you when patching you up 

⟡ dating dean winchester:

you would describe dating dean as a roller coaster, but like all relationships, it has its ups and downs 

it was hard to have vulnerable conversations with dean without the infamous hunters' helper (alcohol lol)

you guys fought a lot at the beginning of your relationship bc you were fighting tooth and nail to get him to at least try and talk to you 

you soon realized that you would have to take a different approach to it and eventually let him come to you when he needed it 

it took a while, but once he put his walls down and trusted you, it seemed like a weight was lifted off of him when he finally told you a sliver of what was going on in his head 

⟡ soft dean!

now, this is where we get soft! dean 

we all know that dean is secretly a softy at heart, and you see it in the more quiet moments with him

he'll stare at you when the two of you are researching or when you're bustling around the kitchen, prepping and cooking lunch for the three of you 

and without fail, a cute blush will appear on his face, making his freckles pop against the red hue of his cheeks as you catch him staring at you  "what are you looking at?" you asked with a wide smile on your face.  "just you sweetheart." he tries to play off his flustered state with a wink, but you shook your head, knowing he was a bit embarrassed he got caught staring.

speaking about getting flustered, he loves teasing you and trying to get you flustered with fleeting touches, flirty gestures, and outright whispering the filthiest things that he wants to do you during the most inconvenient times, like if you're on a case or researching 

what he didn't take into account when he started it was that you would dish it right back at him

he loves it when you keep him on your toes 

⟡ pet names

OH another thing, PET NAMES  he loves using pet names for you 

we have the usual sweetheart, babe (not baby bc you know you come in a close third after sam and the impala) (he's tried arguing that's not true, but you knew it and understood you came after both of them).

he would def call you honey, beautiful, angel, and some variation of your name/nickname 

if he's in a playful mood, he'd probably call you borderline cringe pet names like pumpkin, sweet cheeks, pookie these are the ones you roll your eyes at since he knows you hate them

⟡ love langauges

now, his love languages, his main ones to give are acts of service, physical affection, and quality time, while the ones he likes to receive are physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time 

⟡ physical touch

now, physical touch is a given for dean  he's a very tactical man and is a sucker for it 

when he can, he'll always be touching you, holding your hand or resting on your shoulder, thighs pressed together while sitting together eating in a diner booth, cuddling while watching a movie or always being in his arms while sleeping together, making out wherever whenever (his favorite place is obviously in the backseat of baby) 

but there are days when he needs physical affection from you, and you gladly give it to him, and he's a sucker for you when you play with his hair 

PDA, man is shameless with the PDA  he doesn't care he will kiss you no matter what and when he can  he loves you, and even if he's afraid to say it, he'll definitely show it to you 

⟡ acts of service

which brings me to acts of service  dean will do anything for you even if you didn't ask for him to do it  makes breakfast for you almost every morning, gives you his flannel when you're cold (he loves to see you in his clothes), replaces the lightbulb in your lamp when you mentioned it was flickering, taking care of you when you get drunk (he did this even before the two of you started to date and bickered the entire time), but the list goes on and on 

dean just likes to take care of the people he loves (it was practically ingrained into him at a young age) 

⟡ quality time

he also likes spending time with you it doesn't matter if the two of you aren't talking and working on your own tasks; he likes being in your presence (it soothes him)  with how crazy his life is, he loves the mundane things/tasks he does with you

sometimes, he'll go run errands with you, not bc he's bored and wants to avoid research (which is actually the main excuse at times) but, he likes the sense of normalcy it brings him when the two of you are together, and when you spend time with him 

⟡ words of affirmation

now, dean would never admit it to you (or to himself), but he needs to be reassured 

his mind is a dangerous place for him, and he can find himself drowning in his self-deprecating and self-destructive thoughts (these are also the days he needs you the most, and your touch is grounding to him) 

your words act as a lifeboat for him in the chaotic storm that is his mind and calms them down significantly 

he slowly works on his self-esteem and self-worth, but with your help, it's a little easier for him 

⟡ protective

this is a given, but he is SO protective of you 

dean is a fiercely protective person at his core and will do anything and everything to keep the people that he loves safe, and now that includes you 

some arguments were had when dean was being overbearing and flat out refusing to let you go on certain hunts with them bc it was too dangerous. you had to remind him that you were a hunter before you met him and will continue being one until the day you decide to try and retire or die 

he doesn't like it when you hunt alone, and so he always tries to come with you or send sam with you if he's indisposed for some reason 

he's only like this bc he can't lose one of the best things in his life 

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, poor mental health, mentions of previous injury, possible ooc,

part 23: realization.

🔹🔹🔹

fuck every single thing in your life leading up to this point.

that’s the main thing you’ve been repeating to yourself since waking up and the ensuing argument with bruce, how have you been so stupid? so reckless and sloppy? you broke character in front of batman repeatedly. the hospital visits, the information he freely gave you about criminals, the way he acted in the fucking alleyway. it was so so obvious he was keeping an eye on you, not for bruce, but because he is bruce. You wanna punch yourself in the face as hard as Bruce did.

that means he knows what the other vigilantes know about you right? whoever put the bug on your phone, probably bruce himself your encounters with red robin, who else is involved? shit, that explains so much about alfred’s behaviour too.

you need to get out, you’re not safe here, that much is clear now. the room you’re currently laying in is probably bugged by now if it wasn’t already, you’re sure everything you’ve done to the phone is compromised if they found the case files you’d been idly making in your spare time. Your programs, your files, your hacking, even your attempt at an AIs probably completely useless now, and you don't think you've got it in you to clean the hardware again…

you’re currently lazing in your bed, you’d popped a painkiller and sloppily changed your own bandages just to assess the damage to yourself while attempting not to look too professional at this, even though you’re completely alone in the dark guest room. the skin of your shins is irritated and near glassy from both the burns and the medicated ointments smeared liberally all over them. luckily the cuts on your chest are better than you’d thought last night, they’re shallow enough that no stitches were applied, all the better for you. though the bruise on your face is nasty looking by now, swollen knot on your jaw paired up with a scabbed over busted lip, all it took was one glance in the bathroom mirror to see you got messed up.

There's a knock at the door, you tense before slowly crawling out of bed to see what's up.

Alfred brought you a plate of food, you didn't take it, the hardened eyes and tense posture enough to have you wandering what might be on it other than seasoning. Is it too paranoid? Maybe, but you've allowed yourself to be too comfortable with these people for too long. You'd simply murmured something about nausea and shoved the plate back into the tray before quickly closing the door on him before he could get anything else out. You made yourself ignore the persistent knocking as you'd stumbled back to bed.

Now you're in the bathroom pretending to wash up.

Carefully checking a few small bills for signs of trackers embedded within the paper while the shower stands empty behind you, the sound of water hitting the shower floor is almost relaxing in a way.

You moved things slowly, one pair of boots left in the bathroom, one clean hoodie, pair of pants, extra pain pills, if you were being watched a mad scramble for stuff would have them kicking the door down and doing who knows what to you. you need to remain calm, sulky looking sure, but your body language and expressions can't betray you.

Are you a prisoner to your training or are you in danger with these people? Batman's considered a hero…but is Bruce Wayne? The man's a self-proclaimed philanthropist with many charities to his name, but so was Stark. And that man's not exactly a good example. The way Peter described their mentorship said enough. Shit doesn't Batman work with children?

The thought alone had you stress-pacing on aching, numb legs. You couldn't guess how old red Robin is, or the purple clad lady or the one in full black, but Robin was definitely a child, a young one at that. Where did he even get access to a…..

Unease settles in your gut like lead, a young boys face flashing through your mind and bringing your pacing to a deadstop in the center of the bedroom. A boy who has katanas hanging up in his bedroom, a boy who knows how to drive a car and would take point behind you when you're incapacitating someone….fuck everything you were doing, you need to go see Damian right now.

You slip out of the bedroom with quiet, measured steps, rolling your weight on the pads of your feet evenly as you stalk down the dark empty hall. You don't have a plan, you don't even know for sure where to find Damian. He could be out running the streets with Bruce right now for all you know, but surely he wouldn't keep the kid out this late right? Then again maybe he would. you don't exactly know the real Bruce, do you.

You should've seen that coming considering how hard you've tried to hide the real you.

the manors quiet tonight, it feels like an odd juxtaposition compared to how loud your thoughts are currently, how crazy things have felt the last twelve hours. as you go room to room it faintly occurs to you that maybe damian wouldn’t want to see you right now, he’s clearly been keeping bruce’s secrets, maybe this will end in you flaming yet another bridge….

you’re already at his bedroom when your thoughts get the better of you, your feet automatically turning and moving to carry yourself away when something shuffles beyond the shut bedroom door. you pause for just a moment and listen to the light footsteps padding around the room, and then you start to back away silently. you don’t need to do this, this isn’t your responsibility right?….

The door creaks open, damian takes half a step out of the room before freezing like a deer in headlights, foot still hovering as you both stare at the other, you try to leave regardless of the awkward confrontation but he quietly calls out to you before you can dissapear back into the dark, he quickly finds his feet and trots out into the dimly lit hallway to grab at your wrist before you get a chance to trot off.

“(Name), I've been wanting to talk to you since last night.” he blinks up at you expectantly, frown on his face like you've offended himwith your escape attempt, his grip is surprisingly tight. does he think you’re gonna pull away?

You find yourself studying him closely for a moment, his height, hair color, the way the kid carries himself…. the thought that he might really be batman's Robin hits you like a (another) punch to the face. What the hell is Bruce doing to this kid? Your hand subconsciously finds itself on his shoulder, gripping him tighter than either of you'd expected.

“Damian…” you stop yourself before you can say anything, what the hell do you do in this situation? Ask if he's okay? Ask if he's Robin? Does he realize the danger Bruce is putting him in? Does he know he'll never be normal if he wastes his childhood like this? You don't want Damian to turn out like you.

He scowls up at you as you silently seem to be processing something, your expression makes you look so uncomfortable as you squeeze him while staring blankly at him, he shakes the wrist he's still squeezing to snap you out of it, you're starting to creep him out a little.

“(Name)?….”

You need to get a grip on yourself, don't say anything stupid to the kid just because you're concerned - “are you….”

You stop yourself just in time, biting the inside of your cheek hard enough you're surprised you don't taste blood. finally you manage to choke out a quiet “…are you okay?”

Damian blinks confusedly as he glances up at you, shuffling his weight foot to foot while his nose scrunches at your odd behavior. “…yes, I'm perfectly fine thank you. Are you alright? You're the one who was attacked repeatedly.”

right, people usually ask about things like that after someone's injured, the wounds are minor enough though. He Doesn't need to worry himself with that. “I'm fine, I've had worse.”

He scowls up at you and releases your wrist to cross his arms over his chest petulantly, you feel like you've just selected the wrong dialogue option in a game…

“You shouldn't be up too much right now, if you irritate chemical burns you'll -”

You quickly hold your hands up as you interrupt him, wincing slightly as his frown deepens and his eyes narrow up at you as you speak.

“Damian I'm fine. I promise you, it's….. Never mind.” you sigh and look away, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

He huffs at you pointedly. “I'm starting to think you were hit in the head harder than we realized.”

The sassy response actually gets a small snort out of you, even if you can't bring yourself to ask him what you really wanna know…it's kinda nice to see he's acting normal. Even after everything that's been happening, it's both odd and comforting in a twisted way that he's doing well while you're completely spiraling by the hour, it's like a reminder how small your issues are.

“Oh wow, thanks kiddo I'm really glad you're here for emotional support.”

You roll your eyes at him but quickly reach to mussy up his hair so he knows you're not offended, though he dodges your hand and huffs at you again. Then he pauses and just stares at you with a contemplating look, lips pressed together and brows furrowed as a strange silence settles over the two of you once again.

When Damian does eventually speak, he sounds hesitant and subdued. His words halted as he studies your reaction carefully. “…father says that you're afraid of him, why is that?”

You blink, for a moment you thought you'd misheard him, but no. He's watching you closely with concerned eyes and baited breath, the shift in tone is jarring and you can only dumbly mumble out a confused question.

“I - what?”

Damian presses on, his eyes look down either side of the hallway before returning to staring up at you earnestly. Like he's pleading for an answer. “…are you? It's okay you can tell me.”

You didn't even register yourself taking a step back until Damian takes a small step after you, he looks unsure of himself while you quickly try to fix the situation before things get out of hand, this isn't what you wanted to talk about with him. “No? No! I don't know where he's getting that from…. Or why he'd tell you that, honestly. But no, I'm not afraid of him.”

“…. Then why do you look ready to leave?”

You open your mouth to reply to that, but not a single sound escapes you. The hall falls silent, neither of you say a word and your gaze falls to the carpet below your feet. You don't have it in you to lie to the boy.

🔹🔹🔹

You barely registered stumbling back to the room, half shutting the door before climbing unsteadily into the bed with a weariness that reminds you of those first days in the hospital. Who knew a little physical harm and stress could tire you out this badly…the burns especially ache terribly just from that little movement, you'll definitely pop another pain pill in the morning.

Maybe you'll be able to think more clearly then.

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: I'm very, very sorry this is so late y'all 😭 I've been suddenly dealing with multiple things at once so I haven't had any free time, I'll accept any tomatoes and rocks thrown my way 😔 anyways poor widow isn't handling things well are they? Seems like they need to smoke something and take a long nap.

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet @omnivirgo @shirp-collector-of-fixations @spidermanluvr444 @br33zy-blizzardz @lunarapple @findingjaxx @4rachn3 @buckturd @tsxukikami @paastaboi @duskeras @ibelyss @1abi @that-creepy-girl-000 @kaylaphantomhive @viilan @karmaxq @dr7girl

[alastor-simp]

Alastor + Angel Dust Reacting To Female Reader Being A Really Good Dancer💃🏼

❥Summary: Your boyfriend and you have been dating for a while, and they are very interested in learning more about you. One day in the hotel, they discover a special talent of yours, leaving them starstruck.

❥Tags: alastor x reader, angel dust x reader, dancer, headcannon, boyfriends, lovers, hazbin hotel headcannon, boyfriend reactions, fluff, romance, some suggestive stuff

❥Warnings: A bit suggestive and swears

❥Notes: Always wanted to write something like this! Hope you guys enjoy.

✪Them Finding You✪

Both you and your significant other have been dating for a few months in the Pride Ring. It honestly came out of nowhere, but the both of you were content with each other. Since the relationship was brand new, there were still some things the both of you didn't know a whole lot about the other, maybe some favorite foods and fashion choices, but nothing more than that. The both of you would communicate and want to learn more about the other, but not to the point it made the other uncomfortable.

One afternoon, they were heading over to your room to bring you a snack from the kitchen, since it has been a while since they last saw you. Upon coming closer to your room, sounds of music could be heard from the other side. The door was slightly cracked, allowing them to peak through it. Looking through, their eyes widen at the sight of you, performing a very alluring dance routine.

✪Your Dance✪

Alastor🦌

🦌"My my, quite an impressive talent." Alastors gazed at you with smouldering eyes, smile widening at the sight of you.

🦌He had found you very shy and sweet when he first met you, causing him to drop his guard around you, as it would hurt his soul to treat you like he treated the others.

🦌Now he came to discover this side of you, and his heartbeat was skyrocketing. Never has he seen someone move so sensually before since his time in hell. Some of the moves you did cause some confusion as he was from 1900s, so he was more familiar with the Charleston or the Jitterbug.

🦌Your dance routine had come to an end, as Alastor saw you paused the music from your radio. Alastor had opened the door wide to your room, and began to clap his hands, honoring your little performance, causing you to jump in shock.

🦌"Bravo, my dear!" Alastor was smiling widely, as he made his way towards you, while your face was flushed pure red, having realized that Alastor was watching you the whole time. Alastor was right in front of you, head tilted at you. "What is wrong, darling?".

🦌Your broke out of your thoughts at Alastors question, looking to the side, twirling your hair with your fingers. "N-nothings wrong. Just..um..did you see all of that?" You hesitantly asked. Alastor chuckled at your question, leaning his head down further towards yours, making you turn even redder.

🦌"HAHA! Every bit of it, my dear! You never mentioned to me that you had an amusing talent like this." You kept looking down to the floor, twiddling your fingers. "Oh, I always loved dancing when I was younger, so I self taught myself certain moves and went from there." A hand made its way towards your chin, causing you to turn your face up towards Alastor, as he was gazing at you with desire.

🦌"It was very enchanting to watch. I wouldn't mind requesting a private show from you in the near future. Possibly in my chambers perhaps?" His finger traced your lips, as the static from his voice dissipated, letting you know he was being serious. Shivers spread through your body, and you felt like you could melt right now with how Alastor was looking at you.

🦌Nodding your head, you told Alastor you wouldn't mind doing that. Chuckling, Alastor leaned closer, placing a small kiss on your forehead. "Lovely~. Now, my dear. If you wouldn't mind, can I teach you some moves from my era? I'm sure you will enjoy it!"

Angel Dust🕷

🕷"HOLY SHIT ON A CRACKER!!!" Angel's thoughts exploded when he saw you busting a move in your room. Shit, you could move better than him!!!!

🕷Angel made it blatantly aware how good he was at his services in your relationship, including pole dancing. He cooled it down with you, as he assumed you weren't really use to that type of stuff and he believes in consent and making his lover comfortable in the relationship, so he put the very dirty comments and actions away for you.

🕷Seeing you dance like this was like a slap to the face. You were just a cute itty bitty little thing and here you were dropping it low, in HIGH HEELS!?! Oh no, this wasn't good, he was getting horny watching this.

🕷The music soon came to an end, and you slowly rose from the floor, moving your hands to fix your hair. The sound of the door slamming opened made you jump, and you turned to see Angel running towards you, picking you up of the ground and holding you up in the air.

🕷OH MY SATAN!!! TOOTS!!, WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL ME YOU WERE SUCH A SKILLED DANCER!! Angel kept spinning you around, smiling so wide his golden tooth was flashing so much. Your mind was still in a state of shock, especially now that Angel found out about your little hobby. "It's nothing special, Angel. Its just dancing."

🕷Angel had literally put you back down and began to shake you. "ITS. NOT. JUST. DANCING!!!!" He empathize each word with a shake. He soon stopped and placed both of his hands on your cheeks, making you look up at him, as he bent down a bit to reach your level. "That was by far the sexiest thing I have ever seen in my entire life." Angel whispered to you, as he looked at you lovingly, rubbing his thumb against your cheeks as he continued to hold them.

🕷Your heart skipped a bit as you continued to stare at Angel. Smiling, you lifted one of your hands to place it against his own, muttering a "thanks." Angel smirked and began to pull you towards him. He sat on the bed, positioning your body to sit on his lap. "Would love to have you teach me some of those moves. Whatcha think toots? Would you mind being my teacher? I'll be a really good student, trust me." Smirking, you leaned closer, giving Angel a kiss, before pulling back "Sure."

-END-

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[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.

[letoasai]

dp x dc Chronos Part 4

Part 1 - Previous - Master List

Danny woke up confused, stiff, aching. He didn’t know where he was, but he got the distinct feeling of déjà vu. Honestly, he was used to waking up dead tired. Heh, dead tired. For the last year or two it had even been his normal. 

The bone deep pain however was something he only had every now and then. He had gotten hurt often while trying to protect Amity Park but being seriously injured seemed to be left for special occasions. 

Memories came back sluggishly, and he didn’t exactly delight in them. His father breaking his ribs like he was a twig... Relishing in the pain he supposedly didn't feel...

His mother trying to pin him down like a butterfly on a board was an image he’d like to have erased from his mind forever.  Her weapon trained him him was almost underwhelming. When did he become used to it?

Unfortunately, he needed those horror driven moments. His parents' reaction to him had never been a sure thing before. Only speculation at best. He’d hoped their love for him would override their hatred of ghosts. It was what kept him under their roof. That hope that they’d still love him. 

He’d grown up with borderline mad scientists for parents and he’d always put that notion aside. It was its own box in his head. The Fentons and their questionable science. They’d been mom and dad first. Always, mom and dad first. He’d hoped to be Danny first to them. 

He wasn’t. Now he knew though, and he could free himself from that house and their neglect and dangerous excentrics. When things were safe he’d contact his sister, but he didn’t have parents anymore. Not living, human ones. 

He did have Clockwork though. Clockwork who had been at the right place at the right ‘time’ to save him one more time. He had Frostbite too, who would fret over Danny’s injuries while in the same room, and rage later, away from Danny’s senses. 

There was something overwhelmingly kind about that. Frostbite put Danny first and didn’t make him feel badly about his attachments. He worried more while Danny needed him. His anger could wait for later. 

His human parents hadn’t been much, but at least he had ghost guardians. 

It took a moment, but alarm slowly settled in when he didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t move well, a blanket tucked in tight around him. It was the slowly quickening BEEP BEEP BEEP that spiked his adrenaline but when his eyes cracked open, he wasn’t met with a white ceiling and a very obvious ghost shield. 

The room looked more like a barely used guest ro-.... That déjà vu again. 

Danny looked around, the door had been left cracked open, on his other side… Oh… The curtains were open. Even in his human form, his obsession could easily take root. Space. Was the bed closer to the window than it had been before? Did it matter? He had such a good view. Looking out into the vastness of space could hardly be considered comparable to looking up at it from Earth. It was beautiful and distracting… 

Danny reached up on reflex alone and grabbed the oxygen mask someone had put on him at some point. With a flicker of power he turned it intangible and pulled it off of his face before dropping it on the floor. 

He…ached. It was a literal, bone deep kind of ache and it occurred to him all at once that it was just because he was an idiot. He’d just… transformed. Just like that. Like that was a good idea. Like he wanted to impress Wonder Woman and instead came off as immature doofus with a death wish. 

Death wish… Funny… 

Danny inhaled slowly, feeling the air fill his lungs that were tender around bruised ribs. Bruised but maybe not broken anymore. Healing left him exhausted but the open curtains and the expanse of space before him would help with that. 

“Highness. Danny. You’re awake.” Diana was pushing the door open, looking fairly relieved. He wondered if he’d have even been able to tell if she didn’t have the same stress markers that Jazz had. The small tics and twitches of a woman who was normally so poised and put together. Someone unflappable who in some cases had really seen it all. 

There was the squint to her eyes, the way her shoulders lowered when she walked in and saw him awake. The octave of her voice betraying how tightly wound with worry she’d been. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so weird to introduce Diana to Jazz some day. He’d probably regret it instantly. They’d likely get along a little too well. 

Wonder Woman came in, dragging the seat closer again and the bed was definitely closer to the window than it had been before. 

“You gave us quite the scare. How are you feeling?” 

“Like i got hit by the GAV.” Danny muttered, inhaling carefully again. “I’m…sorry. That was stupid. I knew better.” 

“I’m quite certain you did, but the concussion you’ve recently sustained probably did not help that.” Diana said, and he was weirdly having a hard time deciphering if she was just politely giving him an out for acting like an idiot or if she really thought a concussion would alter his decision making. 

“I have a concussion?” he asked slowly. 

“You do. Among a myriad of other injuries all in various states of healing.” She gave him a firm nod. “I apologize for bringing medical personnel in here without your permission but you were losing quite a bit of blood and we had very little knowledge to work with. Chronos did say one of your forms healed faster than the other. I understand that better now.” 

Danny winced. “Sorry about that.” He did have a headache but he attributed that to passing out from pain. That and the fact that it was easier in his living form to focus on Diana and not just the space beyond the window. “As long as there’s no experiments or intentions of ripping me apart molecule by molecule, then it’s okay.” 

Judging by the way Diana’s expression darkened, that wasn’t the thing to say. “Is that something you’ve had to worry about in the past? Chronos did say you were removed from your home. Is there anything more you can tell me?” 

“Eh…” Danny made a face. He wanted to sit up properly in bed but he knew that was going to set off a chain reaction of pain and he wasn’t interested in that yet. “Clockwork really didn’t say anything? Figures.” 

“There was one thing he said.” Diana said, after a short pause between them. “He said that you would ask for help if you wanted to.” 

Danny snorted. “Brillant, CW, thanks.” He reached up and rubbed his face tiredly, he could still just barely feel the marks on his cheeks from the mask. “Yeah, it’s a worry. It’s a worry for everyone like me. I’m not a person after all. The US Government says so.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Danny blinked slowly and hopefully hid the way his body tensed. He wasn’t a fool, he knew that tone. Sam had that tone. Val definitely had that tone. It promised hell for someone. “Uh, yeah? The Anti-Ecto Acts? The Ghost Investigation Ward? Did we cross wires somewhere?” Danny paused. “I don’t remember. Did we talk about the fact that i’m dead? You know, Ghost King?” 

Diana’s lips tightened unhappily, and she was sitting more rigidly then he remembered during her last visit. “Yes, Chronos called you the Ghost King. I recall you as well mentioning ghost guardians. It was also impossible to miss your lack of pulse when you arrived, and your sudden pulse returning when you switched forms. Is this normal for ghosts?” 

Danny appreciated the way she kept her voice calm and curious despite the bits of anger he could taste in the air. She wasn’t trying to make this an interrogation but the need to know details would eat at anyone. 

“No. There’s only two others like me. To my knowledge.” he amended. “I’m something else. Half dead and half alive. It’s… yeah, that’s probably why i’m here. I can be in the Infinine Realm no problem, but my living human half needs, you know, a living realm from time to time.” 

He plucked at the blanket around him, not sure where this own nervous energy was coming from. “I’m meant to be a balance. Something like that anyway. I can’t go home so Clockwork…was trying to be helpful by finding me a new one.” 

“Which you have.” Diana said gently, hesitating for only a moment before laying her hand on top of his. “You still have your home with me. That has not changed. If you are in danger however, you are in the right place.” 

“Am i?” Danny asked, trying to make his expression as blank as possible. “You’re the Justice League. You follows laws and…stuff. The law says i don’t feel pain. Says i’m not a sentient being. Says it’s completely legal for me and others from the Infinite Realm to be hunted. That we are free game to be caught, tortured, experimented on and exterminated. Legally, you should be turning me in.” 

“Hah?” It wasn’t a happy sound. “I understand a few of your fears, but Justice will come first. You are talking about the genocide of an entire species. An entire realm.” 

“They did try to nuke us once…” 

Diana’s free hand tightened into a fist. “The Anti-Ecto Acts, yes? We will be looking into them. I’ve little doubt that it is already on the immediate docket. You are obviously an intelligent being. I have witnessed myself the pain you are in. Not only are you a king, and a child, you are my family. I would never turn you in.” 

Danny averted his gaze and looked at the wall, hoping it hid the way his bottom lip trembled. His own mother was happily planning to hand him over. She believed her own biased research. 

He’d known Diana less than a day. Less than a couple hours? “I…” His voice was clogged. 

“You focus on healing.” Diana whispered, squeezing his hand. “Resting. Let me have a turn with this mess.” 

He hiccuped, but he didn’t dissolve into tears. That meant he was holding himself together right? “Y..yeah. Sure.” 

“Are you in pain now?” She asked. “We weren’t sure of your exact biology for all you appear perfectly human. Only mild pain killers were given to you while you were out. Small doses in case there was an adverse reaction.” 

“I dunno.” Danny said quietly. He tried twice to clear his throat. “Maybe. Yeah. I’m so used to it, i don’t know anymore.” He laid there for a moment, too afraid to even move and find out what would tug and pull. “I am, you know, perfectly alive right now so i think i would like a little more pain killers. It was never an option before.”

“I’ll call for a nurse.” Diana said with a nod, hitting a button on the side of his bed that he hadn’t noticed before. 

Danny heaved a sigh, overwhelmed with the direction his day had taken. “Probably better that way. Frostbite says i can’t just hide in my ghost form and expect my human form to heal naturally. He says that should be for emergencies.” The problem with that train of thinking was that it was always an emergency. He couldn’t have just bled all over his bedroom in Amity Park. His parents were oblivious unless it would be a headache for him. He wasn’t going to explain to them that he was bleeding because they’d shot at his ghost form two hours prior. 

“Frostbite?” 

“He’s my doctor. He’s chief of the Yetis.” 

There was something…hilarious about Diana just nodding and mentally filing that information away for later. She didn’t raise a brow or question the existence of yeti’s or anything. She just took him at his word. “Then i imagine he knows what he’s talking about. I wasn’t sure since you were brought to us in your white haired form.”

“Probably because i was brought from the Infinite Realm. I’m obviously liminal and that changes a few things but Frostbite still doesn’t like me to depend on that alone. He treats me like i’m normal.” 

Diana smiled weakly, but the upturn of her lips did express her amusement. “I’m starting to think i will have a new question to ask every time you open your mouth, Highness.” 

“Danny.” He corrected with a small smile of his own. 

“Danny.” Diana agreed. “Your usage of the word liminal?” 

“Oh, uh. Basically death adjacent?” Danny shrugged. “A lot of people in Amity Park are liminal because of their proximity to the portal my parents made. My sister and three of my friends are very liminal. My parents are liminal too though they’ve never noticed. It’s spread through the town.” 

“Portal.” Diana sighed a little. 

Ah, yeah. She was probably right. It was a lot of information when it was only passed on in bits. “Yeah…” Danny muttered. “Maybe you should get a notebook. Write this down…” 

He paused when a nurse came in after knocking. Her smile was friendly but she was clearly there to do a job and not loiter when Wonder Woman was right there. She did greet them both and told Danny how relieved she was that he’d woken up while setting up his IV that would double as both pain control and hydration. 

She didn’t even notice Danny taking the glowing green post-it off her back. He instead just held it in his fist until the nurse finally excused herself. 

It’s a good view. Frostbite will come to you. 

“Cool.” Danny muttered dryly, suddenly exhausted before deciding to eat that note too.

“Yes?” Diana just raised a brow at the action. It was kind of funny how that was the thing that threw her off. She’d been observing the nurse the entire time with a keen eye and had only moved herself to pull out her cell phone.

“Clockwork often communicates via vague ass post-its. I’m taking that one to mean i need to heal as much as i can by my obsession with space before Frostbite shows up to scold me for stupidly hurting myself like that.” Danny heaved a sigh. Frostbite’s disappointed looks could be weaponized. 

“And eating it?” She asked and if Danny wasn’t mistaken, she’d be laughing if she wasn’t so composed.  

“Ectoplasm. The reason the post-it glowed. It’s good for the dead. No sense in wasting it.” Danny offered a one sided shrug, and relaxed back against his pillows. He sagged, rubbing his face tired and glancing out the window. 

He’d love to get some paper and chart out what stars he could see. 

“I guess you have questions? If you really think you can help with the Anti-Ecto Acts and all…” 

Diana had her phone on her lap, ready to take notes. “I think the most pressing question i have…” She leaned a little closer. “How did you sustain your injuries? Who hurt you?” 

Danny frowned, his entire body almost closing in on himself. He should have expected that, but somehow hadn’t. “My parents…”

~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging started to get difficult but a bunch of people recommended a master list that i'll update. It's linked at the top ^__^

Also i never planned past part 3 so we're in uncharted territory now.

[midnight-bay-if]

Crushing!ROs reactions' to the first time they see the usually-grungy MC all fancied up?

S: Their eyes wander to yours, and all movement, aside from their shaky intake of breath, stops. The fancy baubles and expensive materials are mere decorations for your magnificence, but every feeling you have ever evoked demands they bear witness to you now. You are resplendent.

They cough, averting their eyes to prevent staring. "You never fail to surprise me."

Rain: They never placed much stock in appearances. People looked the way they looked until they didn't. That's just how they saw it. Then, you walk in dressed so intricately, and they forget how to breathe. You look like a painting; breathtaking, iridescent, a masterwork. Rain itches to grab their paints and put colour to the memory, so they never forget when your eyes met theirs.

"I... I don't think there's going to be a person in this place whose eyes don't stray to you tonight..."

Taj: They don't care what you wear; they care more about how stupidly long the wait has been for you to make yourself presentable. Then, they see you, and the ache in their feet vanishes instantly, and their ears twitch as their stomach churns uneasily. Suddenly, you feel so far out of their reach that it brings them shame.

"For what it's worth," Taj states before their nerves can silence them, "I don't think you need to be fancy to turn heads... You do it well enough already. Ask me to repeat that, and you'll regret it."

N: They have waited for this moment with trepidation. You allure them well enough without needing extravagant detail, but N has always desired the finer things in life. Upon hearing of the excuse to play dress-up, N was practically flinging you into a changing room to get started.

The moment their eyes meet yours, they are besotted. Their elegant lines of clothing only accentuate what they already knew existed beneath. So much of you had been hidden before; now they see it all plainly, and it utterly seduces them. What a fool they must be.

"You are a spectacle, my dear. I hope you will stay close; I would hate to have to share you this evening."

Umbra: Clothing is practical; it has uses. They weren't aware clothing could also be a statement until you revealed yourself entirely changed. They don't understand why their ice-cold heart begins to thaw upon the sight. You are wonderful. They have thought so since your tiny hand reached for them in darkness, an outreach of kindness despite their bloodied blade.

They saw you then. They see you now. You are wonderful.

"I am afraid my darkness might cast a shadow on your shine, MC. But allow me to bask in it a moment longer, at least."

[loveafterdeath-if]

Hello just someone who found your game a while back and loved it. Your work was really good at invoking the emotions from your audience, or at least it was effective at affecting me. Reading through it didn't feel like a chore and the prose flows smoothly. Also liked the Extras you made where it show enough of the RO to answer some question while leading enough mysteries to keep interest. Anyway just read through El's PoV and it was heartwarming, rage inducing, and despair provoking as I had imagined it would be. So good job on that part. So a question. How would the RO's react if they are in a relationship with MC and what happened to El happened to the MC? It could be the hypothetical timeline where MC and El never met, so MC became partners with the RO instead of El. It could be the scenario where they got together after El's death and that happened.

Hey there! I'm really glad you enjoy my works, especially knowing that I succeeded in conveying the emotions I aimed for!

L would be dead inside, drinking their sorrow and crying to MC night after night, hiding it behind jokes and charm around everyone. It's what they do best, right? Even when T tries to help, L would feel like a lost cause, assuring their kid they're alright with a smile that never reaches their eyes again—those gray eyes that hold no mischief anymore. Every person around them seems to leave, and they’d start to think it’s maybe their fault, as if they’re cursed to remain alone. They might even distance themself from T, scared that the same fate would befall their child.

Ekissa would shut themself off even more than before, becoming harsh and cold—even with family. They’d turn into one of those old grumpy people who prefer to be left alone. They wouldn’t feel like doing anything, just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, days, months. Their parents would force them to eat something, trying to help, but Ekissa would brush them off, snapping that they don’t need anyone to feel better. The thought of meeting new people would be repulsive; just the idea of it would make them want to hurl.

Athiel would continue their life, posing for magazines and overworking themself to the bone until there’s no room for pain. They’d do what they do best: hate everyone, hate themself, hate everything. Life would feel like a chore. Athiel would desperately try to bury the raw and merciless pain until all that remains is the façade of the arrogant model. But what nobody knows is that every single night, Athiel would sleep with MC's clothes to smell their scent, hoping that maybe it would help them dream of MC, to see them again, holding them.

T wouldn’t feel sad—not because their love wasn’t sincere, but because they don’t see death as something to be mourned. It’s all about perspective. Every little thing—like their favorite song playing on the radio, the small things missing in their house, every dream of MC—would feel like a sign that MC is waiting for them. T knows they will eventually reunite, and when they do, there will be so much to share. T would visit MC's grave every day after work, bringing flowers, cleaning the grave, and talking about their day with that small smile that makes their dimples appear.

[theotherpacman]

got s1 is really a very faithful adaptation of agot, with only minor divergences. sometimes I really love the little details in the book that the show doesn't have room for, but sometimes I like the decisions the show made differently.

things I appreciate about the book:

the fact that jon is 14 makes his naivete regarding the wall hit so much harder. he's just a little boy and he's willing to sign his whole life away bc he believes he can be a part of something noble... neither his father nor his uncle nor anyone else tells him that to take the black is a grim sentence steeped in shame

ned hearing that bran's direwolf saved his life and being like "holy shit I killed one of them... what the fuck did I do"

sandor just whole ass traumadumping on 11-year-old sansa completely unprompted and then when he realizes he's just made himself vulnerable for literally no reason he goes "if you tell anyone about this I'll fucking kill you"

mormont thinks jon will be disappointed that bran is now a cripple but jon is so ecstatic bran's alive that he picks up tyrion lannister and spins him around (tyrion is startled by this) and then proceeds to cheerfully make friends with a guy who hates his guts bc jon kicked his absolute ass in training

tyrion and bronn starting to become friends on the way to the vale <3

THAT SINGER BITCH i love him

"whatever you may believe of me, lady stark, I promise you this -- I never bet against my family" screaming crying throwing up

jon going to maester aemon and convincing him to let sam take his vows!!!! using the metaphor of the maester's chain to make his point about how just bc sam is different that doesn't mean he's useless!!!!!!!

TYRION FIGHTING IN THE BATTLE AGAINST ROBB'S MEN!!!!! THE SHOW DID HIM SO FUCKING DIRTY i get that they didn't have as big a budget back then but come on man ToT

"when the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. when the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. when your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. then he will return, and not before." LET THE BARRENNESS BE PART OF THE CURSE why did they cut that

when tywin says "because you are my son" tyrion fucking Hates him for that bc he knows that if jaime were he tywin wouldn't spare him a second glance, he's only Tywin's Son now that jaime is prisoner and might die at the hands of the starks

things I appreciate about the show:

arya shooting a bullseye from behind bran. queen

jaime being a dick to everyone all the time for no reason. just going around starting shit. also that scene outside robert's bedroom where he talks to jory. jaime in general

ROS!!!!! MY GIRL ROS MY ABSOLUTE QUEEN ROS

"she's our guest." "she's our prisoner." "do you find the two to be mutually exclusive in your experience, my lord?" lmaooooo get his ass maester luwin

"sometimes possession,,,,, is an abstract concept"

THE DRINKING GAME!!!! first of all it gives us more insight into shae as a person who is so different from tyrion's established worldviews, secondly tyrion is always going around saying offensive shit and he thinks nothing of it bc a) people say offensive shit to him all the time and that's one of the ways he deals with it and b) he's usually right BUT when he makes all those assumptions about shae he's totally wrong and she stands up for herself, but my favorite part of that scene is that tyrion is hesitant to share this traumatic story from his past but he's just made bronn and shae confront their traumas so now he has to share too. and I think that's beautiful

all of varys and petyr's bitchy conversations when they're alone in the throne room

this only covers the first book/season I might make more of these as I keep reading

[lilghostiequinni]

Not Strawberry

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: ginger!female oc x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy

Summary: She's been in London the last few years, doing long-distance with her boyfriend in Monaco, but when she's finally able to move in with him, people are shocked to learn Lando Norris has had a long time girlfriend.

Requested: NO / yes

Max had convinced Lando to stream tonight, weeks ago, before Lando knew his girlfriend was going to be moving in, and now, he's regretting it.

Max had met Rowan more than a few times during the relationship, and while he would have allowed Lando to not join the stream, a couple of other streamers were going to be on tonight, all of which Lando had promised to be there.

So, here Lando is getting ready to stream and also not wanting to let his girlfriend go.

"But baby, I don't want to," Lando whines to his girlfriend as he pushes his head into her neck.

"You are the one that promised, and you knew I was moving in this week," Rowan points out to her boyfriend as she runs her fingers through his curls.

Lando groans as he pulls away, whining the whole time to his stream room.

"I'll make dinner as you do," Ro calls after the groaning Brit.

She hears a faint okay from the room as Lando leaves the door open just a crack so he can hear if his girlfriend needs him.

In the kitchen, Rowan picks up her tablet, logs into Twitch, and turns on Lando's stream as she moves around the kitchen, getting everything she needs to make their dinner, which is Traditional Swedish Meatballs with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots and some dessert, which is Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte, or Black Forest Gateaux.

Also, she had been craving her mom's homemade cinnamon rolls, which she stole the recipe for before moving to Monaco.

Lando also made the request for cheesecake as he was bragging to Max about and she was going to make it happen.

She was bored and didn't just want to stand around and wait for Lando to be done.

She was watching the stream as she made the meatballs for dinner.

"Baby, that smells so good," Lando calls out as she gets them frying in the pan.

Rowan smiles at her boyfriend as she watches the chat of his stream go crazy about learning the rumors about Lando having a girlfriend.

Lando realizes what he said and that he didn't mute his mic as he did, and Rowan chuckles at the driver but not entirely loud enough to hear her.

"Yeah, I have a girlfriend and have for the last 5 years, but she was just now able to move to Monaco because of personal reasons. I will not tell you at this moment," Lando reveals as he continues to play with his friends.

"Max, does he really have a girlfriend, or is he just playing?" One of the other gamers asked the driver's best friend.

"Yeah, he does, and she's got some great red hair," Max answers.

The other streamer stopped for a second and looked at the camera, "Is she a natural red or like box die?"

"She's naturally a ginger. She's currently cooking because that's like her favorite thing to do aside from writing her novels," Lando says, still playing the game.

Rowan stands in the kitchen and for the life of her, cannot open the jar of condensed milk.

"Lando," She starts as she knocks on the door of the 'stream' room.

Lando stands and goes to the door and sees his girlfriend with her sad face and an unopened jar of condensed milk; Lando chuckles and grabs the jar and opens it for the girl, then she kisses his cheek and walks back to the kitchen.

Lando goes back to his stream, and the comment is going crazy about why he stopped in the middle of a round to go to the door.

"My girlfriend couldn't open a jar, and I just helped her; it wasn't long. It's fine," It may seem a little snippy, but he doesn't want a big deal made out of something he does for her because he just wants to help.

Lando stays on the stream for a little while longer before Rowan knocks again and says that dinner is done, to which he nods and tells the guys he has to go

Another thing that Lando promised is that while the two go to England to get a few more of Rowan's things, while Lando does some work at McLaren.

Another thing he wanted out of not yet wanting to share his girlfriend with the world, even if he does have to do so for her books.

Lando sits in the car and rests his head on the headrest, "Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes baby, you promised Max," Rowan says to him.

Lando looks at her and takes a moment before getting out of the car and then walks over to her side and opens the car door.

Rowan got out as Max came over, and he pulled the ginger into a hug.

"Ready?" He questions when he pulls away.

"No, I don't want to share," Lando whines as he pulls Rowan to him, and she tucks herself under his arm.

Max chuckles at the answer he got from Lando, and the two follow mate to where they are shooting the video.

"This your girlfriend?" One of the Quadrant members asks when they see the three.

"I thought she was going to be strawberry or box red, not actual ginger," A different member says.

"Not strawberry. Full, natural ginger," Rowan says as they get done speaking.

Lando chuckles at his girlfriend; he can't remember how many times she's said the same line whenever people see her hair color.

A/N: I would like to point out that I don't do Twitch, so let me know if I got something wrong. So, I have a quick question for those being tagged; what other drivers would you like to be tagged in that I have. There's Carlos, Max, Oscar, & Charles. What about F1 ships?

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop