#i need to figure out how his feathers are attached

[kowaindar0u]

[ braid ] (kara -> sada)

[ nonverbal memes ]

[ braid ] for your muse to braid mine’s hair 

Sada has always made an effort to look good, especially on the battlefield, his getup comprising of a full three-piece short suit replete with feathers, strings of jewels, a cape, and of course, some accent braids in his hair. So, all things considered, he's able to put it together himself, including his hair, with relative ease.

So, in readying up for his sortie dispatch later today, he's finding his usual routine going smoothly. While he's buttoning up his vest, though, he's caught off-guard when Ookurikara takes it upon himself to help with his hair.

"Oh--? Wah, Kara-chan!"

The tantou has to fight the urge to turn his head around to grin at him in surprise, so he just smiles to himself as he finishes up the third button.

"Thanks for the help! I didn't know you knew how to braid, though!"

[squidpedia]

part three of gun trash-hat?

Originally I was going to say no part 3 planned for Clover’s stink hat since I currently didn’t have any more funny ideas to follow that up with, but I thought of something that would work as a bonus:

Clover’s guardians called an emergency meeting after they finally got Clover to let them wash the hat, trying to brainstorm ideas on how to apologize. This was what they mananged to agree on.

(Part 1 | Part 2)

They promised Clover they’ll give the hat back in exactly one hour, Clover took out a timer to hold them to it. I like to think that the parts Ceroba and Starlo needed were left behind in the underground after they already moved to the surface, meaning Ceroba and Starlo had to sprint however many miles back to their old homes to get their materials, find and grab them, then sprint all the way back and figure out how to attach them to the hat quickly. They had 2 minutes to spare. Meanwhile Martlet just kinda…plucked out a feather and Dalv just has those stickers in his pockets on standby anyways.

[ineedtherapydesperately]

desperately wanna write a childhood friends to lovers au w chloe and red in the timeline where bridget never goes evil and is still besties w ella

like imagine all the hangouts and sleepovers they have, crying and whining when they have to be separated because red, dear, we really must return home or chloe, love, we've been in wonderland for a week already

imagine little chloe bursting into her parents' bedroom declaring that she'll always be red's knight in shining armour, because every princess, especially a crown princess, needs a knight to protect her and ella and christopher just KNOWING that chloe is gonna stay by red's side forever and ever

so they start planning the wedding with bridget, thrilled to have the opportunity to bring their families even closer together. they're gonna be in laws! a family, just like they've always dreamed.

imagine little red telling her mum that chloe has a really pretty smile and really pretty eyes, and it makes her happy to see chloe happy, and that chloe is the bestest friend in the whole wide world and bridget has to stop herself from squealing and pinching red's adorably flushed cheeks, because her daughter was so in love already, even if it was just puppy love. that doesn't stop her from screaming gleefully into her pillow later that night tho

imagine them growing up together, attached at the hip, never straying from the other's side. imagine them going to auradon together, everyone already knowing that red and chloe, chloe and red, are a package deal. you can't get one without the other, a known fact since the duo were old enough to travel through the rabbit hole on their own

imagine chad walking in on them cuddling, watching a movie and cooing at them, snapping pictures on his phone before they notice him, yelling at him to leave them alone. alright, alright, I'll leave you lovebirds alone and red flushes in mortification and shut the fuck up chad, we're completely platonic and you know this because little miss goody-goody would definitely be rougher around the edges, growing up with red, and she'd definitely cuss up a storm at chad, but she loves him, she swears, just maybe not as much as she loves red

imagine them going through all the motions of a romantic relationship, cuddles, cheek kisses, hand holding, cute dates and all that, but insisting that it's just platonic, and that's how they've always been because they're best friends and their parents are so very done with them, just praying for them to get together, and chad has even started a betting pool for when they'll realise they love each other. he thinks it'll take them until at least their second year at auradon prep - at least, it'll take chloe that long

imagine chloe and red having matching lock screens, and having each other set as their home screens as well. imagine red baking chloe anything she asks for, like peppermint cookies and flamingo feather cupcakes and blueberry muffins, because chloe, her princess, her knight, has a raging sweet tooth that red can't help but indulge every time. imagine chloe taking red on ice cream dates, because red LOVES ice cream, and refusing to let her pay for it because red was a princess and deserved only the best treatment, thank you very much and red has to point out that chloe, you're a princess too. but, red, you're the crown princess and im your loyal knight <3

imagine red finally realising her feelings and ranting at the council of parents because holy shit aunt ella, your daughter is so dense?? and christopher can't help but cringe because he knows exactly who chloe got that trait from and he's like I'm sorry but while we charmings are quite, charming, we're also quite oblivious, especially to matters of the heart and bridget can't stop laughing because darling, you may need to hit her with glass shoes for her to figure it out, which makes ella blush because that's exactly what she had to do that night at castlecoming

god I have so many feels about this I am totally normal about glassheart. final part absolutely inspired by @strugglingsapphic's recent post bc I love the idea of oblivious chloe not knowing shit

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 29: Single Parents/Uncles AU for an event by @bagginshieldweek24

I deeply regret that the challenge is a day late! Exams are merciless to me, and even though I started drawing in advance, I still couldn’t handle the deadline 😅 I promise to catch up with feedback tomorrow, after passing bioinformatics exam.

More headcanons and details under the cut>>

— It’s an alternative Middle-earth universe with hobbits, humans, dwarves, and elves, but set in modern times.

— Thorin grew up in Erebor in a royal family (which makes sense), is accustomed to good coffee, can distinguish different types, and knows which brewing devices are best. Now he has moved to London for work and discovered that both dwarf and human coffee shops would often use cheap beans or bad coffee machines, or they grind the beans incorrectly, or even set the wrong amount of grams of coffee per espresso shot. In general, they save money wherever they can, mostly selling the vibe and relying on the fact that taste isn’t important to most of the customers. Elves occupy the niche of coffee connoisseurs, but Thorin would rather drink filter coffee from a kettle on the roadside than go to elves. And then he discovers that hobbits, little hedonists, love good food and GOOD COFFEE! Of course, in hobbit cafes, he has to sit on low chairs and by the small tables, and at first, the other patrons looked at the dwarf in their company strangely, but it’s worth it. Thorin is willing to sit with a bent back if he gets a quiet and cozy atmosphere, excellent Wi-Fi, and delicious coffee (an office in London is good, but sometimes you need to get out of the four walls to not get nuts).

— Thorin rarely drinks pure espresso, preferring softer variations. He also has a sweet-tooth.

— Bilbo is a children’s book writer, mainly known for a series of fantasy novels about a brave hobbit who traveled over and under the mountains, rode in barrels, and played riddles in the dark (Bilbo, in canon, wrote his memoirs, which all hobbits except Merry and Frodo knew primarily for Hobbiton children, so I think he would primarily write for little hobbit kids).

— It’s not a real feather he uses, but a ballpoint pen with attached feathers, like those sold in souvenir shops. Bilbo bought it after a tour to the Tower of London. He likes the ✨vibe✨ and the fact that he can twirl the feather part around his lips when he’s thinking. (It’s literally an instruction on how to seduce Thorin)

— Mr. Baggins only drinks doppio. The cup is big compared to him because it’s hobbit ceramics, and the portion sizes for hobbits, who love treats, are no smaller than human ones.

— Bilbo has taken care of Frodo since his parents drowned in an accident. Frodo is about 8-9 years old here.

— I love the headcanon that hobbits’ ears react to their emotions, so the fact that Frodo doesn’t lower them when Bilbo scolds him is a good sign. Bilbo is a good uncle.

— Thorin and Bilbo have seen each other several times on Wednesdays. Usually, they don’t care about other patrons, but barista keept trying to serve a doppio to the stern scowling dwarf in black leather jacket, and a cappuccino with whipped cream to the little curly hobbit in a plaid sweater. They’ve had to swap their drinks several times.

— Thorin read Mr. Baggins’ books to his nephews in Erebor and quickly figured out who always sits at the table near the window in his favorite cafe. Thorin likes Bilbo’s books but doesn’t know if he’s married because he keeps his personal life private. Seeing Frodo, he immediately assumed he was Bilbo’s son, considering how the little hobbit looks at him.

— Bilbo immediately noticed the stern ( handsome) dwarf sitting with his eyes glued to his phone, but he always felt too awkward to speak with him. How do you even start a conversation with a stranger, especially from another race? So when Frodo, rather bluntly, commented on his appearance, of course, Bilbo was embarrassed. No, he absolutely agrees with Frodo. The exotic braids, unusual for short-haired hobbits, look amazing on the tall dwarf, and the iron clips highlight his blue eyes perfectly, but isn’t that a bit rude to point that out? Wouldn’t a dwarf decide that he is trying to mock his culture?

— Bilbo saw that while he was scolding Frodo, Thorin turned away and for some reason tugged angrily at his braid, so he decided to muster the courage and compliment him himself to ease the awkwardness and not seem rude (not at all because he would gladly say what Frodo did himself and not because Mr. Dwarf has much more attractive features he’d also like to make a comment on, not at all, what are you talking about, no-no-no).

— The dwarf didn’t seem offended at all.

— They started talking and found out that Thorin’s nephews love Bilbo’s books (Bilbo was flattered by this news. He’s still surprised when his books are read by anyone other than hobbits. (Gandalf didn’t tell him that his books are popular among all races. Mostly because for other races they play the role of kids books where main protagonist is a cute mice)).

— And in the end, as we see, they exchanged numbers 🌚🌝

— They will meet again, but without Frodo and not just for coffee.

— The end✨✨✨

I’m still experimenting with a flat-color style and lineart so I’ll be glad to know what do you think about it. Hope the comic was enjoyable!

[keen-li]

Cause I'm bored duh!🌸

Synopsis: Took one fuckin' look at your face

Now I wanna know how you taste

Actin' all innocent, please

When I know you out here thinkin' 'bout it

Then you realize she's right there.

And you're at home like, "Damn, she can't compare"

Warnings: cheating jk, yn is promiscuous, jk is a simp. Yn is a maneater and boyfriend snatcher. Yn is honestly a siren that calls you in and i'd fall too. Cocky and confident reader. Jungkook is delusional if you squint. Oral sex (female recieving), public oral sex.

Jk x fem reader

A/n: idk lol

☆`▪︎°▪︎`☆

You first noticed him when the blonde attached to his arm giggled obnoxiously. So loud you could hear it from where you were sat even through the booming music.

A little reserved but with looks that could kill. Dark hair in a center part framing his face. Tattoos crawling up his arm. Toned muscular figure probably hidden under those baggy clothes of his.

Just your type.

"He's cute don't you think?" You say to your friend next to you, just as reckless.

"He is" she eyes him as well and he doesn't notice your eyes prying cause of the distance and how his 'girlfriend' seems to call his attention. He looks annoyed with it, but you're no psychic.

"you think that's his girlfriend?" You both eye the blonde girl who doesn't notice the uneasy look on her boyfriend's(?) face caused by the over enthusiastic touches.

"I think so" she says and you smirk.

"I going to talk to him" you say determined eyes locked on him and a sly smirk plasterd along with it.

You stand off the stool you were sat on.

"What! He's got a girlfriend" she exclaims chuckling as she does.

You deadpan her. "When has that ever stopped me?" The lopsided smile that grows on your face is malicious. Your friend knows you too well and knows how this is going to end. But it's not like she's any better.

Birds of a feather flock together right?

"Oh look! He's coming to me" you say patting yourself on the back smiling at the lack of effort put in. Shit like this needs to be low effort, too much effort makes you look desperate.

You watch his figure walk, not to you but towards the bar. And when he gets there he takes a seat and orders a drink. He looks like trying to get some air away from his girlfriend. And you wouldn't blame him, she looks tiring.

With right stiletto heel first you walk to him. At first you don't speak just wait for him to get accustomed to your presence.

"...just one. " you say,with your soft voice at the bartender enormoured by you. He could barely look away from you even whilst making other drinks but especially when making yours. He tries to make a move to hold a conversation with you but you brush it away.

You've got better things to do.

"You look lonely" you state talking to the man you've had your eyes on and only staring at him through your peripheral vision.

He's confused about whether you're talking to him or not and when you turn to face him he acknowledges your question with a chuckle.

"The club isn't the place to be lonely" you say voice coy and he fully turns his body to yours whilst your body and eyes are still away from him.

"So tell me why do you look lonely?"

Maybe it was cause of your confidence or beauty and aura but he couldn't find it in himself to respond. The words stopped by his throat instead.

"I don't know maybe cause i am" he manages to say voice not as confident as yours.

"Why is that?" You turn your crossed legs to him and your shoe grazes his leg. The actions draws his eyes to your legs and they soon move up to stare at the skin showing from your dress riding up.

You watch as he eyes you and you internally smirk at how obvious and easy him and other men are. This always goes the same way.

"No girls to make your night?" you assume. "Or maybe you don't like girls" you raise a brow at him. If that was the case then your efforts would go in vain and that would make you sad. He's so cute.

"Its not that." He shakes his head a smile forming as well. "Maybe not the right one has introduced themselves." That's the only statement he says sounding a little confident and sure in himself.

You smile. He melts.

"Yn. Whats your name." You hold out your hand.

"Jungkook. " He takes it. It's weird to be shaking hands with someone in the club but you've found that even the smallest of touches can make men weak. And youre definitely sure it makes your new interest weak as fuck. "Nice to meet you yn" he holds your hand a little longer than necessary. But soon you're pulling it away and seeing the embarrassment form on his face when he realises.

"You should finish your drink so you can get on the dance floor" you say before he can get an apology out.

You stand from the stool and wait for him to follow.

And like a puppy he quickly downs his drink and follows you. You don't down your own and just leave it for the man who's been staring at your interaction to clean it up.

You walk in front of jungkook and pull his hand to the dance floor. Immediately you're in a comfortable spot on the dance floor you pull jungkook's hands to your waist and yours around his neck. He's taken by surprise but he definitely likes this. Likes how confident you are and how you take charge.

He likes how you pull him closer to you and the way your hips feel under his palms. The way you sway and the way you grind on him, your body moving with the music.

He's lost for words, lost of any thoughts, just let's your bodies move and enjoy your presence. Enjoy the way your body feels around him.

"Are you usually this shy?" You tease him for how reluctant he is to touch and hold you.

"N-no" he stutters, your face close to his. He's normally the more forward and confident but for you, he's not able to be that. You just seem to have a hold on him.

"Then show me" you move to his ear. "Take charge." You whisper by his ear, testing him.

It's like fire to gasoline and he's caught aflame.

He turns your body around so that your back is on your chest and your ass on his crotch.

"You like men who take charge?" He asks by your ear.

"Yeah i do" you whisper back with a smirk.

His hands get more comfortable on your body as they roam with the music. You grind against his crotch and he almost moans at the feeling.

Fuck.

He should be with his girlfriend and friends at the table by now, but no. He's here dancing with a woman he's just met and has him driven crazy like he's known her for forever.

Dancing with a woman like he's in his single years. Dancing with a woman so close like he's a single man. Feeling her body and taking in her scent like a single man. An erection growing for her like a single man. Kissing her neck like a single man.

For whatever reason he can't stop himself, he's enjoying this, enjoying you. And he doesn't care if his friends or girlfriend spot him from where they are sat. But they won't, too intoxicated. Plus the dance floor's filled with too many bodies.

Your bodies continue to move with the music and sink more into eachother. You take inmhis scent, thay dark masculine scent that makes you weak.

You're enjoying dancing with him and all, but you want more. Want to see what that pretty face can offer. So you turn to face him.

"There's a private bathroom up top if you wa-"

"YES" jungkook says a little too rushed causing you to smirk as you pull him to said bathroom.

As you walk he turns to look back and notice his girlfriend look around a little worried but she doesn't spot him.

"Let's be quick" jungkook says as he rushes.

"Someone's a little too eager"

He just smirks. He won't lie he is eager for such an opportunity. A chance to do whatever with such an attractive woman.

"Fuck" you groan as jungkook abruptly shuts the door and pushes you against it to connect your lips. "You're so needy and desperate." You say allowing him to kiss your neck.

You would've never thought he'd be this eager, for someone with a girlfriend too. Normally it takes more effort on your part.

The private bathroom is empty and clean, perfect place for jungkook and you.

"Are you some kind of witch?" He asks as he drinks away at your tongue. "You have me wrapped around your finger and i barely know you" you smirk into the kiss at his confession.

"I get told that alot" you feel his hands touch every part of your body. Around your thighs, around your neck, around your torso. He touches your everywhere like a needy bunny and you just chuckle.

"So you sleep around much?" He asks and you would take offence but you don't have time. And you honestly don't care.

"I try" you chuckle.

Jungkook doesn't care about that right now he just wants more of you in the little time he has before his girlfriend begins calling his phone.

"Come here" he says as he lifts you off the ground and places you on the bathroom counter.

"Fucking pretty" he says when he gets a view of your legs parted.

"Like what you see?" You ask with a smirk.

"Fucking love it " He pulls you legs wider on his shoulder and you feel the cold blow in your core.

"Dont stare too long" you sit up on your elbows and watch how enormoured he is by your pussy. Dripping and wet. And probably warm too. He wants to fucking taste you.

He feels his pocket vibrate and he groans. It's probably his girlfriend.

Instead of pulling out the device to respond he moves his lips to immediately make out with yours.

"Shit.." you moan at how intensely he drinks all your wetness.

"So fucking good" he licks another long strip. "Could eat this all day"

You feel your hole clench at his words, as it craves attention and jungkook is glad to give it some with his long digits.

"So fucking tight" he says pumping his fingers into you, his warm breath fanning your center.

This is so fucking weird some would say. But you just had to take a chance on jungkook. Cause he's in a relationship you'll probably never get to see him again. So make of it while it lasts.

"So fucking good" he continues to hum against your pussy and his moans cause vibrations to your core, adding more pleasure to the one he's already giving you.

Feels so good to have someone hungry and desperate to eat your cunt, can you really give this up?

He's so desperate and needy to please you. Make a good first impression. This could have you thinking about him even when you're with someone else. If he's so good when drunk what more when he's sober.

This is a one time thing no need to think too much into the future.

Jungkook feels his phone vibrate once more then twice and he knows time is running out. Soon she'll be calling.

"So fucking pretty even when eating me out" you say as you pull his hair out of his face to get a view of him.

He smiles against your pussy as he feels another vibration in his pocket and groans in frustration.

In a plea to get you to come quickly, he licks on your clit for more stimulation. Tongue gripping at it.

You gasp for air when you feel him suck on your bud. Tongue lingering long on it.

With his tongue sucking your clit and fingers pumping into you you can feel your walls clench and that intense feeling approach.

"Do you think you can come for me baby?" He asks and you nod. You laugh at how he just throws out the pet name, do you have him that wrapped.

Jungkook's never done this before, and he's never thought he'd do it. But damn it feels good. You feel so good . How your warm walls pull him in makes him want to stay in forever.

He quickens his pace and you cry out in pleasure.

"Jungkook...." you call out his name and he wishes he could hear more of it but time isn't on his side.

"Come for me baby" is what he says before you're tipping over the edge and coming all over his tongue and leaving it for him to clean up.

Why the fuck did you let some dude tell you what to do.

Once you're down from your high you come to your senses.

You straighten your dress back down to it's mini level as you watch jungkook pull out his phone to reply to a text. The boner from eating you out prominent and your mouth waters. Fucking hell, why do you want to suck his dick. You got what you wanted now forget it.

"I have to go" He says even though he doesn't want to go. "It was nice talking to you yn"

He says shy smile on display for you.

You want to walk out but then he calls out for you in a hurry. He doesn't want you to get way, this moment was too short and it has him dreaming of longer and more sober nights, where you can enjoy yourselves. Where he can drink more of you. Where maybe he can feel more of you.

So little of you has ruined so much of him. And he wants you to ruin more of him.

"Can i- can I get your number?" He pouts and shows his phone to you. You eyes land in his home screen. And a picture of him and the blonde.

You smirk.

"No"

[distantdarlings]

BY THE FIREPLACE (PT. 2) // t. nott

RATING: PG -13 / 1.4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested* A continuation of the interesting situation you unknowingly placed yourself in. Theo takes you, in your Animagus form, back to his dorm room and attempts to take a nap with his new friend. (Comedy?) (Read Part One first)

+ WARNINGS - Language, nothing else really

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing)

New Perspective - P!ATD (it's stuck in my head)

*I just wanted to say that I am sorry this is so short and may not be the best follow-up to Part One, but I really hope you like it. It was kind of rushed because I had a really busy, frustrating day, but wanted to write!*

---

Every few minutes, Theo would shoot a glance towards his annoyingly persistent group of friends. His glare became sharper and sharper each time, but, still, they refused to stop giggling and teasing.

He could barely focus on his bloody work and they were absolutely not going to stop any time soon. He groaned and got to his feet, shoving all of his schoolwork quickly into his bag, keeping you safely cradled in his arms. Maybe you’d attach to him and sleep at the end of his bed and stuff. He’d have to get some cat food.

Their giggling and whispers came to a stop as soon as he stood. They watched him closely, waiting to see what he’d do next.

“Oh, so now you all shut up?” Theo growled. “I’m trying to get work done. How am I supposed to do anything when you all are—?” He mocked their giggling.

“Sorry, Theo, we just missed you,” Mattheo joked, “we wanted to be close to you.”

“Yeah, right, why are you really here?” Theo asked.

None of them answered. Just all glanced at each other and started giggling again. He rolled his eyes and started towards the library’s entrance.

“Hey, where are you going?” Pansy asked.

“To my dorm and you better not follow!” Theo warned, never looking back. Their laughter only got louder. He groaned in frustration and slammed through the library door, careful not to jostle your sleeping figure too much. You slept pretty heavily for a cat.

He pushed through the occasional crowd of students on their way to classes as he headed towards his dorm. Hopefully, nobody would be in there and he’d finally get some peace and quiet for him and you. He had a million things to get done.

He walked rather quickly until he came upon the Slytherin dorm entrance. He spoke the password and made his way across the threshold, melting at the small coo you made in your sleep.

“Aw, I love you, little thing,” he laughed. “You don’t belong to Hogwarts anymore, you belong to me. What should I name you?”

He followed the staircase up to his assigned dorm and finally tossed all of his stuff onto the desk next to his bed. He gently set you down on his freshly-made bed and assured himself that you were wrapped up cozily in your little wool blanket. A small smile appeared on his face.

Distantly, he could hear his irritating friends downstairs. They laughed and joked noisily with other Slytherin students down in the common room. He refrained from rolling his eyes as he set all of his work out yet again. He was getting this shit done—today, with no more interruptions.

He grabbed his wand and flicked it at the door. The wooden lock against it landed with a heavy clunk. If someone needed to come in, they could state their name and business.

You stretched in your sleep once more, releasing a purring yawn. He smiled at the motion and brushed the tip of his quill’s feather over your face gently.

He turned back to the papers and books scattered across his desk and set to work. Circling answers, scrawling out short answers, and highlighting passages. The warmth from the sun pushed through the window, gently heating his hands, face, and a sliver of your back on his bed. Every few minutes or so, he’d lean over and run a soothing hand over your head or back.

His friends had quieted down downstairs and seemed to have gotten bored of whatever stupid joke they were playing on Theo. He figured they were just trying to get him to think they were talking about him or hiding something from him. Which was really annoying. He’d never done anything like that to them, so what the hell?

As his hand worked the quill across the parchment, his mind wandered a bit. He wondered if you’d ever gone back and picked up your stuff from the library. Maybe you’d forgotten it? It doesn’t really seem like you were the type of person to forget all of your stuff, though. He shrugged. Maybe he’d go down later and see if it was still there.

After about an hour or so of working, Theo pushed out of the desk chair and pulled his body into a tall stretch. He groaned at the release and popped his knuckles. He was sort of tired, come to think about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he skipped his fourth period. He’d tell Professor Sprout he wasn’t feeling well, which, after accidentally being transfigured into a toad in McGonagall’s earlier, he didn’t exactly feel one-hundred percent.

Just as he was scooting you gently up next to his pillows and slipping beneath the comforters, a knock came at the door.

“Who is it?” Theo asked.

“It’s us, man, just let us in.” Mattheo.

“Absolutely not, I’m busy.”

“Please, we really think it would be in your best benefit to open the door.”

“Do you need something out of here?” Theo called back, settling comfortably beneath the blankets.

“No, but—”

“Is someone injured or dying?”

“No—”

“Then you don’t need to be in here—you’re just going to keep picking on me,” Theo grumbled. He tucked his arm under the covers and curled his hand around you, pulling your back against his chest. You purred in your sleep. You were so warm.

He ignored their persistent pounding at the door and settled in, closing his tired eyes. This was going to be the best nap of his life.

He was teetering on the edge of being awake and not when he felt something move against him. It felt like something had touched his legs. Maybe you’d gotten up and moved farther down the bed. But he was pretty sure you were still curled beneath his arm. He wasn’t sure and he was too tired to care. Though it really felt weird…

“Ugh, why doesn’t he just open the door?” Pansy grunted, slamming her hand against the wood once more. “The teasing was funny, but I didn’t think he’d actually take her to his dorm!”

“Yeah, I don’t think any of us did,” Mattheo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why was she sleeping in her Animagus form, anyways?” Enzo asked. The other two shrugged.

From the other side of the door, it had gotten completely quiet, and they all wondered if he had laid down with you. They all hoped he hadn’t. It would have been funny to see you wake up, confused and angry, in his lap, but it might not be so funny if you were in his bed. You might think you’d been kidnapped or something.

Just as the thought hit, they all started pounding on the door more.

Somewhere near the back of your head, you heard muffled pounding and shouting. It sounded like a small army parading about the room. You wondered if the Quidditch team was practicing outside the library’s window or something like that.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep. Hopefully, nobody had moved your stuff. You still had a ton of work to do. You groaned and raised your arms to stretch out when you realized the bottoms of your arms caught more material. The armchair was bigger than you realized. And a lot more comfortable…

You began rubbing sleep from your eyes as you started to lean up. As you did, something caught your body and held you pinned against the chair. You opened your eyes in confusion, looking at the material below you. Not a chair….a bed? Had someone taken you back to your room? You glanced down and saw a tanned arm wrapped tightly around you. What the fuck? Maybe you got laid.

You turned over and came within inches of Theodore Nott’s nose.

“This is literally the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in…” Enzo sighed. They all had given up on trying to beat the door down and sat against the wood, waiting for one of the two of you to wake up. They hoped it wasn’t going to be too bad of a situation.

Best case, you guys awkwardly brushed it off and went your separate ways. Worse case….

A shrill scream pierced their ears. They, and half of the common room, flinched at the sudden noise. That high-pitched whistle was soon accompanied by a more dulcet shout. Both drew out for at least 30 seconds. The three students cringed at the realization that you two had woken up.

“Fuck,” Mattheo said. They all dropped their faces into their hands.

Part 3!

[6mommymilkers9]

Greedy Little Thief

Severus Snape x Student Reader

Summary : In seventh year, an infatuation with your Head of House has been brewing for too long.

Tw : None

Grasping the vial, Severus flipped open the spout, giving a quick sniff. "Love potion." Turning his head to Dumbledore, who stared with a knowing glance. "Now we know who's been stealing for your stores, Severus."

The last few weeks had been aggravating. Thankfully, the Tri-wizard Tournament, distracting students and professors alike, especially Snape. Getting into his storage room was no easy task, narrowly, especially the greasy haired madman a time or two.

Today was no different; maybe, just maybe, you could take one more vial. That's all you needed. Strolling the dungeons with a certain stride, making way to potions class, Severus surely was watching the games, hell everyone was.

You, on the other hand, couldn't be bothered, opting to take advantage. Taking ahold on the door handle, quietly opening the door, slithering into the classroom. Shutting the door behind, you turned, eyes meeting your target. Your feet moved, light as a feather, a creeked of the floor, neither here nor there.

Another twist of your wrist, you were greeted to his office, and alike, his storage room to the left, making way. The room, only light with a small candle on the professors desk, was dim, making you squint a bit, trying not to bump into anything. As many times as you've been in here, you haven't quite mapped out his room yet.

A small breath, the scent of lavender filled your nostrils, greeting your glands with a faint smile. If there was one thing you couldn't get enough of, it was his scent.

Every time the professor walked by, handing out homework or grades, the hint of lavender had you wanting chasing for more, nearly making you drool at times.

The scent nearly driving you mad for years, yearning for slip of the fingers, getting a light touch of his quill, whenever you had to bother the poor man with mindless questions, hoping for the scent to stick.

Another breath, you blinked, adjusting to the darkness, twisting the knob. Before you could fully open the door, someone had grabbed your sweater, pushing you against the nearest stone wall, making you cry out.

"You think you could get away with it Miss L/N? You greedy little thief." Severus rushed, his eyes dark, yet not holding much distain as usual.

"P-Professor please! I can explain." Barely getting the words out, grasping the professors wrist, taking note how warm they were compared to how cold he presented.

Severus knew, he had a feeling for days now. Only thing that caught him off guard was you. The top student in his Advanced Potions class was a thief. But why? That is what bugged the tall, tasteless man.

He wasn't a daft man, watching your glances, the feeling of you two brushing against each other in the hallways, dismissing it as a mistake on your end. It was the most contact he had with anyone in a long time.

Though, he couldn't deny, the feeling was exasperating, craving more from your liking. While his mind might deny, his conscience couldn't, he had grown feelings for the Slytherin girl in his clutches.

Dumbledore noticed, from the head table to the students, eyes glancing between his Potions master and the Slytherin girl. The conniving Headmaster, making due to have the lot paired during demonstrations and tasks he brought onto them both, not necessarily needing either or to do them.

When the headmaster and professor found the storage room to be missing some bottles, the older man knew just who was the culprit, leading the Severus to figure out for himself; Dumbledore being a romantic himself. Strings are attached to people for a reason, after all.

"Give me a reason to not give you detention, Miss L/N. Stealing from my personal belongings will surely lead to punishment from myself."

The seventh year couldn't help but feel the blood rush to her cheeks, tightening her grip onto the man, glancing between his eyes and the crook of his neck, embarrassed. "I dunno, sir. I thought.." You paused, barely meeting his guaze, thinking of how to confess your endeavors. "Well..I thought it would work. You smelled the amortentia, didn't you? What else was I supposed to do?" You question, searching for an answer from the Potions master.

It was true, nearly a month ago, students were assigned to make 'Amortentia', a love potion transfixed to cast itself as the smell of your lover, yours smelling for lavender, and dust. Severus, nearly casting it as a coincidence, yet in the evening, making his own, smelling your perfume.

His grip lightened just a tad, lips narrow, screaming to move, to speak. His chest, wanting to burst, yet, steady within it's confinement. "You stupid girl." He muttered, stepping into his nose was grazing yours. "A love potion cannot enhance what Amortentia presents. All you had to do was ask."

Before your lips could part, questioning his words, you felt his own brushing yours, before melting into place, his stance softening, feeling your own relax. Your knees felt like buckling under their own weight, processing what was happening.

Many nights you craved this exact moment, and it was better than your subconscience could depict. Nails digging into pale, ghostly skin, you pushed your head forward, deepening the kiss, exasperated.

Pulling away, Severus met your eyes, a force needly pushing him back into you. "Does this mean I can skip the upcoming exam sir?" The slytherin girl asked, chest puffing up in down, catching up with itself; a smile appearing on the inner corners of your lips.

"Hardly." The professor grunted, his hands finding their way onto the stone wall, either or blocking your shoulders. "Detention. Tonight, Miss L/N." How could you say no to the man?

[smilingcrittersthingig]

Oops, I seem to have written a oneshot about Reborn Starstudent instead of reviewing for my exams…

Welp 🤷‍♀️

The way I feel about you

He stood atop a platform under a big hole, the chicken looked around the large cavelike area until his eyes drifted to the green rabbit who was across him.

“Hoppy!” he yelled, the rabbit looked up to meet his eyes

“Hoppy come on! Jump!” he encouraged her, holding his hand out for the rabbit.

He kept his sight directly at her while she jumped, he noticed that her spring was a bit small, his worry grew larger the moment he felt her paw brush against his, his eyes widened as he saw her get swallowed by the abyss.

“HOPPY!!!” he almost tried to go after her but he was grabbed and dragged by the blue elephant.

“WAIT HOPPY FELL DOWN—!!!” he tried struggling out of the elephant’s grasp.

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT, KICKIN! THEY’RE CATCHING UP!” he kept his grip on the chicken who was still reaching and yelling for the rabbit.

“HOPPY—!!!”

Kickin woke up in a cold sweat.

He clutched his chest, trying to steady his breathing and desperately resisting the tears coming out of his eyes.

He looked around his dark room, he didn’t like the dark. Kickin stood up from the bed after he calmed himself down, turning on the lights.

The chicken hugged himself, recalling the time with Hoppy. He fought back tears again before looking out the window. He needed to check up on her, he just felt he needed to.

Kickin walked out of the house and started to walk to Hoppy’s house, he just needed to make sure she was there, he needed to make sure she was alive. Just a quick glance, it’s not creepy, is it?

A raindrop dropped on his head with more following right after, it started raining. Great, just his luck. He ran through the rain, ignoring the mind tricks his brain gave him as he saw glimpses of scary figures and such.

He’s not gonna last through all this. His attention was immediately stolen by a light coming from one of the windows. It was from Bubba’s house, he’s still awake?

Kickin didn’t want to stay outside any longer, Hoppy’s house was still a distance away. He quickly walked to the front door and knocked on the door.

Silence

He knocked again, this time with rhythm.

Still Silence

He started banging on the door loudly. For someone having big ears, his hearing sure suc—

Bubba slammed the door open “Okay okay what—!?” His irritated expression immediately softened as his eyes landed on the chicken, shivering from the cold rain.

“Kickin-? What are you doing here?” the elephant asked, very confused about the appearance of his yellow friend.

“long story.. can i come in..?” he nervously rubbed his arm “Yeah- of course, come in” he moved out of the way and let Kickin inside his house.

Bubba quickly closed the door and ran to get a towel for Kickin. The chicken tried to shake the water off until he felt something soft get thrown at his face.

“I’m allowing you to step inside my house, not to dirty it.” he ruffled his wet feathers with the towel before Kickin slapped his hooves away.

“I can clean myself you know.” Kickin slightly glared at Bubba. “Can’t risk you making more of a mess here” he glanced at the trail of water.

The chicken quickly wiped himself off before sitting down on his couch, the elephant followed and sat beside him. “So… Are you going to explain why you’re here?”

“…I wanted to check up on Hoppy… But the rain held me back so I decided to rest up here.” he replied.

“oh” Bubba felt his chest sting. He noticed the fact that Kickin has gotten way more attached to Hoppy lately. They’ve always been a duo but he’s recently been closer to her than usual. He’s been suppressing his feelings about that.

“How about you? Why are you awake?” Kickin raised his eyebrow at Bubba. “I was reading a really interesting book” he answered which the chicken laughed in response to.

“Of course you did” he chuckled, Bubba found his cheeks warming up but looked away in an attempt to not be seen in that state.

“You don’t mind if I stay here until the rain goes away, do you?” the chicken asked, Bubba stayed silent for a bit before forcing a small smile. “Yeah… Of course”

Kickin smiles back before grabbing the remote near him “You got some cool shows here?” he turned on the TV. “Well I have some horror movies I can put on”

Kickin looked a bit hesitant “… I mean unless you don’t want to—“ “No! No I can watch it! Put on the scariest one!” he threw the towel aside and tried to pull a confident pose, but he didn’t look as proud as he usually would.

Bubba smirked “Really? Alright I’ll take you up on that then” he grabbed the scariest movie he had and put it on as he sat beside a Kickin who’s already regretting his decision.

Bubba watched the movie intently. He’s already watch this one and was looking closely at the details he might’ve missed.

He looked away from the screen to see how Kickin was doing, he was stiff as a stick with his eyes dreading the next loud sound. Bubba could only silently chuckle to himself while looking at the terrified chicken.

Then a jumpscare came up which caused Kickin to let out a scream and latch onto Bubba’s arm as he flinched, his face warming up from the sudden physical contact.

“… I-I mean that uh— You didn’t hear anything” he nervously laughed as he let go of the elephant’s arm. He quickly snapped back to reality and cleared his throat to stop his blushing.

“So much for being able to watch it hm?” he teased the chicken to ignore what he was currently feeling “Hey!” he glared at Bubba who chuckled in response.

They continued to watch the movie until it ended. Bubba found his ears drooping down, he didn’t exactly want the movie to end, not because he liked the movie, it just meant Kickin would be leaving afterwards since the rain has also gone away.

He let out a sigh “Alright I guess you have to get going no—“

He felt something lay on his shoulder. He turned his head and sees Kickin had fallen asleep right on him. He could feel his face warm up as he looked away in panic.

Okay Bubba you got this. Just wake him up and… let him leave. The elephant felt terrible, he hated this feeling. Why can’t he just be a good friend and be happy for him. Why is he so upset about this.

…Actually he already knows why he feels that way.

He looks at the chicken’s face again, he looked peaceful… It… It would be fine if he let him sleep in, right? It looked like he hasn’t been sleeping much anyways.

He knows he’s being selfish… He’s a selfish bastard.

He tried standing up to grab a blanket for Kickin but the chicken held onto his arm and refused to let go. Bubba stayed frozen for a couple seconds before sitting back down and letting Kickin sleep on his arm.

… He closes his eyes and lightly laid his head on Kickin’s.

He knows why he’s been feeling this way.

He liked Kickin.

[withahappyrefrain]

did we ever get a follow up on that night with bob? the 7th date one where he ate us out twice? pls my brain is short circuiting i need to know if we get to fuck him💔

Not only did we fuck him, we also learned another surprising thing about Bob: he has a raging size kink. Aka Full of Surprises Part 2: Electric Bugaloo

Warning: fem reader,  language, unprotected sex, Bob has a huge dick, Bob is also a sweet precious bean, size kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, creampie, slight dacryphilia (depends on how you look at it) just wrote 3.8K of porn, don't look at me

Being with Bob Floyd was the closest thing to euphoria.

When you were with him, you felt at ease and as light as a feather.

All he had to do was look at you with that sweet lopsided grin and joy would pulse through your veins.

It was why you didn’t mind pausing as you two both recovered from your previous activities and just laid in bed, kissing one another before continuing. 

“I love kissing you,” Bob whispered before pressing another kiss to your cheek, then the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. 

A giggle escaped as you weaved your hands into his hair, fingers gently grasping at the now soft, ungelled curls, “Could have been doing it a lot sooner." 

"I know," Bob groaned, shaking his head, "I wanted to, like really bad. But I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." 

Of course he didn’t. Even after making you fall apart on his mouth twice, make sure you were at ease was still at the forefront of Bob’s mind. 

"Well," your fingers traced the soft skin of his broad shoulders, "I think it's safe to say we are now very comfortable with each other." 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips. How was this man real? More importantly, how was he in your bed? 

That was something to figure out later. Right now, you were too busy soaking in the sensation of his body on top of yours, lips attached to your neck, and what just brushed against your thigh? 

Your hunch was confirmed when he rolled his hips against yours again. 

It shouldn't have been a surprise. Out of all the things you learned tonight about Bob, this one shouldn't have come as a shock.

He wasn't short, far from it. You barely came up to his chin. When he cupped your face, his thumbs would rest comfortably along your jawline while the rest of his hands covered your whole neck. He was able to lift you up like it was nothing, for crying out loud. 

So out of all the things you learned about Robert Floyd tonight, the fact he was well-endowed shouldn't be a surprise.

And yet, here you were, mouth open and eyes wide as saucers when you saw just the tip of his cock peeking out from his boxers, resting against one of his pale thighs. 

That was just the tip?

Was it even going to fit?

"You okay?" His voice was full of concern. His cerulean eyes never left your face. 

"I um….y-you're big." You mentally kicked yourself as soon as the words came out of your mouth. 

A hand flew up to the back of his neck, rubbing the warm skin, "Uh yeah I…that's why I wanted to get you used to my fingers. We um, we don't have to-" 

"No! I mean, that was a 'no' to the idea of us not doing something. Sorry it's," you sighed, bringing a pillow to cover your face, "it's been a while and I've forgotten what's proper etiquette but I know exclaiming that you have a big dick isn't it." 

Bob couldn't help but chuckle, though there was no malicious intent behind it. Usually he was the one rambling and getting flustered. As nice as it was that the tables had turned for once, he didn't like that you were hiding. 

"Don't hide that beautiful face from me, darlin'," it wasn't meant to be a command. But the way his voice was low and raspy made your thighs clench. 

He gently pulled the pillow away, revealing your flustered face. There wasn’t any hint of ego on his face (despite having a very big reason to). Instead his face was sweet, a soft smile adorning his handsome face. 

"I'm sorry," you blurted out. 

Bob shrugged, "For what? I mean, it's kinda….well, hard to miss. Can't exactly hide it, y'know." 

You giggled, instantly feeling more relaxed, "Do you normally talk about your dick size in bed or should I feel very special?" 

"You should feel special," Bob's hands cupped the sides of your face, bringing your lips to his for a brief moment, "because you're absolutely incredible." 

His lips trailed away from yours, moving down to your neck, past your collarbone, until they reached your chest. Your back arched as his mouth took one of your nipples, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin. 

"R-Robby," you gasped when his fingers traced your entrance. 

The way you moaned his name was addicting. Bob had to stop his hips from rolling against the bed, knowing now just how easily he could come from watching you fall apart on his fingers. 

Instead, he watches, memorized by how your cunt stretches to accommodate his thick fingers. His cock twitched at the thought of how it would feel, desperate to have a turn. 

He knows you like him, and he's ninety-five percent positive you're the one for him. Which is why he doesn't want to rush things. 

A groan escapes your lips, your hips buckling up to meet his fingers, despite shaking your head, "I'm-I'm gonna come if you keep doing that." 

Bob chuckled, leaning over so that his face was mere inches away from yours, fallen dark blonde locks tickling your forehead. 

"Ya say that like it's a bad thing, darlin'." Prior to tonight, you had never seen that smirk on his face. It was the closest to cocky that Bob had been and you really shouldn't find it fucking hot but here you were. 

"W-wanna come on your cock," you whined. It wasn’t that you didn’t like his fingers, you loved them inside of you. But now that you knew, you were desperate to know how his cock felt. 

His blue eyes widened as his hand stilled its movements. Bob opened his mouth as if to speak, and then promptly closed it, your words replaying over and over in his brain. 

Fuck. 

Once his brain came back online after short-circuiting, Bob found himself quickly removing his boxers, tossing the undergarment somewhere on the floor of your bedroom. He could pick it up afterwards. 

A joke about being eager was on the tip of your tongue. Though it died as soon as Bob wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and placing you on his lap. 

For someone lean and lanky, he was deceptively strong. 

Any and all thoughts left your brain when his cock slid through your slicked folds. Bob couldn't help but smirk; the person who sought him out, who asked him out, now a moaning mess from just feeling his cock against you. If he had more stamina, he would continue; brush his hardened cock against your clit, drawing out high-strung moans until you made a mess with your own cum. 

Another time. 

It felt exhilarating, knowing there would be more times in the future. You didn't even flinch when he laid you back down on the bed, a pillow now flushed against your hips. You raised an eyebrow, confused by the action. 

“It um…it helps with….y’know.” 

Bob was going to do this right. 

"Please tell me you have lube." It took a few seconds to process his words, as you were too busy registering the fact he was able to manhandle your body without a second thought. 

"Why would we-" 

"We're gonna need it. Makes it easier." The fact he said it with zero doubt, because he knew it was true and he wanted you comfortable, made your head spin. You were used to guys either treating you like a rag doll or as if you were made out of glass. 

But Bob Floyd treated you like you were made of starlight. One that was capable of thoughts, one that deserved having things explained, not to downplay your intelligence, but because you deserve to know. 

It was subtle and the worst part was that he probably didn't think anything of it. To Bob, this was how he would treat anyone he cared about.

But to you, it meant everything. So much that it made your heart swell. 

Meanwhile, Bob was frozen because while he definitely heard you say that you had lube in the top drawer of your dresser, his mind was on another thing that happened to be in his wallet, which was now somewhere on your bedroom floor. 

"I uh-I have a condom in my wallet. Not that I usually carry one around. I mean, obviously I do but like, I didn’t like, actively go out, buy one, and put it in my wallet. One of my buddies gave it to me as a joke and I figured y'know, it's good to have in case I or anyone else needs it. Not that I expect to, you know, it's just it's good to always be prepared just uh just in case. I was a boy scout and they always emphasize that part, being prepared. They didn’t relate it to having sex safely, the context for them was more about carrying a first aid kit and I really should stop talking about that and check if the condom hasn’t expired-"

"God, you're so fucking cute," you sat up, hands reaching out to grab his broad shoulders, crashing your lips onto his in a bruising kiss. 

"T-thanks," Bob mumbled, glad you found his rambling endearing, as well as that you cut him off before he began talking about his Eagle Scout project. 

"I have an IUD. I also wasn't planning on being with anyone besides you." Bob's eyes widened, but instead of regret or fear (the emotions you were used to receiving), there was joy? 

"R-really? Because I feel the exact same way but didn't want to assume anything or-" 

"Have I not made it obvious that I'm crazy about ya Robby?" 

A rosy tint dusted his cheeks as he looked down, "Didn't want to assume." 

"Well, you don't have to assume," you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his, "I like you a lot. So quit assuming I don't." 

“So it….wouldn’t be wrong of me to assume that like, we’re going steady? Like officially-”

“I want you to be my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking Robby.” You could feel the smile he had as he kissed you

He gently squeezed your hands, smiling at the reassurance, "Can I make love to you?" 

"I'd love nothing more, Robby." 

Love. 

It's like music to his eyes, hearing the word come out of your mouth. 

He knows it's too soon, and in the back of his mind, he's yelling to himself why did you pick that word don't scare her. But with that sweet smile of yours, it's easy to drown out that nagging voice, and instead focus on the fact he's definitely falling in love with you. 

"Um, where did you say the lube was? Got distracted by that smile of yours." Heat rushes to your face from his words, and you nearly forget to give him an answer. 

With a quickness you had never seen from him, Bob located and applied the lube. Yes it was rude to stare, but it was hard not to look at his dick when it was that noticeable. 

A large hand gently cupped half of your face, "You'll tell me if it's too much, right?" 

"Course," you mumbled against his lips, your hips brushing against his. 

The chuckle he let out made your heart flutter, "I know darlin', I'm excited too. Don't wanna hurt ya." 

You could never hurt me Robby was on the tip of your tongue. But it died upon feeling the head of his cock enter you. The stretch was a delicious pain that made you throw your head back. Your hands dug into his back, leaving half-crescents along his skin. 

Bob's head dropped down to your chest, his mouth taking in one of your hardened nipples. It was a tried and true method; distract you from the initial pain with something more pleasurable. His eyes never left your face, on the lookout for any sign of discomfort. 

The grip you had on him relaxed, your back arching as his teeth gently tugged on the hardened bud. 

"Robby." His name came out in the form of a strangled whine, your cunt still adjusting to the sheer size of him. 

"You okay baby?" He asked before switching to your other breast. 

"Y-yeah. You c-can move now, n-now that it's all-" 

"Darlin', I'm only halfway in ya." 

Fuck. 

"Wait, what?" How quick your voice changed from desperate to shock was near comical. 

Bob tried to stifle his laugh, instead just shrugging, "I….I told ya it was a lot." 

"I didn't realize, I mean, I know you said it was big, but I didn't realize it meant-" Jesus Christ.

"I get it, I know plenty of guys who have said they had nine inches when they really meant five." 

The comment was so unexpected from Bob, you couldn't help but laugh. He joined you, feeling at ease despite that he was halfway inside of you and you felt fucking incredible. 

He peppered your face with light kisses as he slowly inched more of himself into you. As the moments passed, your body began to get used to him. 

"Gonna start movin' now, 'kay?" You nodded eagerly, your fingers gripping the ends of his dark blonde hair. 

"Fuck, Robby!" 

"D-darlin." 

He felt incredible, making you feel a fullness that had your back arching. Had that ever happened before? You thought that was just some made up shit you read in-

All thoughts left your head when the head of his cock brushed against your sensitive walls. Without even thinking about it, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. 

Bob was trying to think of everything under the sun that would keep himself from coming before you did, which normally wasn't a struggle. 

But you? You felt incredible.

Every sound that escaped your lips was enchanting. If you were a siren, he was diving head first to answer your call. It was mesmerizing watching you react to taking all of him; your lips slightly parted, your fingers grasping at the sheets as his thrusts increased in intensity. Your thighs trembled as he bottomed out once more, eyes widening as you process that he's finally completely inside of you and holy shit. 

Bob wasn't sure what he had done to deserve an angel like you, but he was fucking grateful for it. 

"R-Robby," your voice reduced to nothing but strangled whines, "S'big."

"Fuck, you were made f'me," Bob's voice was low and strained against your ear. His words, combined with the desperate panting that fell from his lips with every thrust, made the coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap at any moment. 

The only thing you could muster that resembled speech were longing whines. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, to be stretched by him, to have his cock brush against that sensitive spot that sent you tumbling closer to the edge. That no one had ever felt this good, had been this good to you. 

But that would require the ability to form coherent thoughts. 

"Ya gettin' close baby?" His drawl was thicker. Prior to Bob, you didn't think of Midwestern accents as hot. But his voice was addicting. 

You simply nodded, head now buried in the crook of his neck. 

"Don't worry, I got ya." He brought two fingers up to his mouth, coating them with his tongue. 

The sight had you whining. Call it being greedy, but you wanted all of him. 

"Ya wanna help?" You nodded your head, lips parting to allow his fingers into your mouth. 

"Such a sweet girl," He practically cooed, watching as you took the two digits up to his knuckle. 

The grunt he let out upon feeling your throat tightened as you gagged on his fingers was downright animalistic. It didn't help that Bob could feel how much it turned you on, your cunt clenching  around his cock at the sound. 

 His fingers left your mouth to trail down to where your bodies met and began drawing right circles on your clit. 

At this point, you were ninety percent certain that you were shouting Bob's name. It was hard to tell, between the bed creaking with every thrust, the downright sinful grunts Bob let out everytime he felt your walls tighten, getting closer and closer to the edge. All this, plus the sound of skin slapping against skin? Who could think about noise complaints? 

Your neighbors could get fucked. 

His lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, teeth all but clashing against yours as his tongue became familiar with your mouth. 

"W-wanna ride you," you mumbled against his shoulder, hips buckling against his. 

Bob simply shook his head,  despite how tempting your offer was, "Gotta get ya used to me, darlin'. Next time, 'kay?" 

Next time. Next time. You knew it would be at least a couple of days until next time, that you (and your cunt) would need time to rest and recover and you already knew that in itself was going to be torture because fuck, no one had ever made you feel this good before. 

But you couldn't wait for the next time. 

"C'mon darlin'. Wanna see if ya feel just as good comin' on my cock as ya do on my fingers. Think ya can do that f'me?"

Maybe you nodded. Perhaps you even gave Bob a verbal response. You weren't sure, as your brain had gone fuzzy while white hot pleasure overtook your body. 

Bob was surprised he could still thrust in and out of your cunt, considering how tightly it was clenching his cock as you came. The sight of your head thrown back, eyes closed, as the rest of your body withered in pleasure was enough for him. 

Your eyes opened upon hearing the most beautiful sound; a deep, guttural moan as Bob's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. 

There had to be other ways to get him to make those sinfully sweet noises. 

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in your room was your overhead fan and heavy panting as you and Bob attempted to catch your breath. 

Fuck, he came a lot. 

"Was that, um, was that-" 

"That was fucking incredible." Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, "Could go for another round if I'm being honest." 

Bob groaned in frustration, "I wanna be able to fuck you within the next few days, not weeks." 

You whined in response as he began to shift his body, the grip your legs had around his waist tightening. 

"Darlin', I don't wanna hurt ya," he knew you would be sore, even if you didn't feel it yet. Bob knew you would tomorrow, hell probably even later tonight. 

"No! Robby, please. N-need you. Need you s'bad." The idea of being empty, of being without him was awful. 

He didn't want to hurt you. 

But he could help wash your sheets. 

"Think you can come f'me one more time?" His voice was raspy as he pulled out. Confusion melted away into pleasure when you felt his cock drag through your soaked folds. 

He was thick and still hard, which baffled you. You were used to 'one and done'. You were used to men rolling over and falling asleep after they fucked you, not even bothering to check if you actually came. 

"You looked s'good, takin' all of me," He cooed. The praise made your head spin. 

Your hips jerk upwards, trying to catch him, but Bob sees right through it. His large hands are able to hold you down and you're honestly not sure if that was better or worse. 

"I told ya darlin', don't wanna hurt ya. Need to take a break," His gruff voice was stern. 

You gasped when the head of his cock dragged against your clit. Bob could already recognize the tall tale signs that you're close; your back arching, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, your whines increasing in pitch. 

He zeroed in on the swollen bundle of nerves, eliciting a near scream from you as you began to come undone on his cock. 

Bob couldn't help it, he tried not to curse that often. But the sight of you soaking his dick with your come caused his brain to go blank. 

What was definitely a scream came out from your lips when you felt his cock slip back inside your cunt. Your hands reached up, tugging at his hair, earning a near-growl from Bob. 

“I can’t get enough of ya. Feel s’fucking good,” each word was punctured by a thrust, “Look so pretty like this.”

As your lips parted, three fingers slid into your mouth. The sudden lack of oxygen, the sensation of his calloused fingers against your tongue, had you nearly gagging on the thick digits. 

Tears began to form at the corner of your eyes. In the back of your mind, this should be painful. Maybe you should tell Bob to stop, he would listen after all. 

But god it felt so damn good. You felt high off the immense pleasure you were experiencing, the big wave brought on by your previous orgasm having melded into small waves of pleasure. Small moans dribbled past his fingers, your hips weakly trying to meet his. 

In the back of his mind, Bob knew he should pause, should stop and ask if you wanted to still continue. But he also knew how much you enjoyed it, despite the tears. 

But that didn’t stop him from dipping his head down to your face, soft lips kissing away the tears. 

“Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He directed. How did he know that? They certainly didn’t teach that in Eagle Scouts. Or maybe they did during the swimming badge?

His cock brushed against that one spot you swore folks were making up and your mind went blank. Amidst the deep haze, his fingers leave your mouth, hooking themselves under your chin, forcing you to look upwards so he could kiss you again. 

God, did he love kissing you. 

More than the fact you made him come now three times in one night. More than the fact you were currently soaking his cock, back careening off the bed as you continued to come. 

"Oh, R-Robby." 

But that nickname, that made his heart swell, that made him feel truly at ease, made him feel like himself -not Robert or Bob- when you called him that? 

That was a close second. 

Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso, your head resting on his broad shoulder as you began to recover from tonight's excursions. 

"Stay for a little bit. Like being full of you, Robby." 

Fuck, he needed to buy a ring tomorrow. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@heartsforts @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @thedroneranger @rae-gar-targaryen @abibliophobiaa @darkheartcherry @theharddeck @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @dissonannce @sonofarathorn @cherrycola27 @girl-in-the-chairs-void @callsignspark @mrsrobertfloyd @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @ouralcohol @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @princessphilly @babyonboardfloyd @avaleineandafryingpan

[mer-acle]

i hold all the power (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Give me...

The big athena hcs

I desire knowledge and inspiration (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Haha

You kinda put me on the spot there. Not bc I don't have big headcanons but bc I'm like how do I phrase this without being like "here's the plot of that fic I wrote" yk? And now I'm unsure what constitutes a big headcanon... so I'm just gonna give you some more random ones and maybe you can help me out with what you were thinking of? (O.O)

For Epic specifically: Her owl form is a dark barn owl, bc they're really pretty and rare and have ginger feathers that match her hair

She dislikes Poseidon so much because he's so much like her father but her perception of him isn't softened by the love she has for Zeus.

Prometheus really saved her after Pallas's death. He kinda filled the void that losing Triton as a paternal figure had left more so than that of Pallas herself, but he took her along for his little creation projects (like the humans whoops) and they really match each other's freak. Yk. Until Zeus takes Prometheus away and definitely forbids Athena from visiting. I will literally murder him one of these days.

Speaking of Zeus taking people away, Athena was STRUGGLING after Pallas. Unsurprisingly, but still. Nobody but Hephaestus knows her from when she was still pretty openly mourning, they're all too young, and he never really asked why, but my girl was so depressed and lonely. She spend IRL HOURS in Quick Thought rewatching that battle and trying to figure out the moment where she went wrong. She knows Zeus intervened, but it doesn't matter to her, it's her spear, it's her kill. He was all like "for a nymph?" when she asked to take Pallas's name. "well, if you think that is a title worthy of your status..." It was her most open rebellion against his wishes for a while.

Her favorite domain is wisdom, but it's followed by crafting, not war. Don't get me wrong, she enjoys a good fight, but if she had to choose and wasn't worried about Zeus's opinion, she would choose crafting over war any day. The reason in my hc is how the domains are assigned, she was basically born with Wisdom, her powers are all about thought, and Zeus later assigned her with warfare which her powers work well with, but weren't technically meant for it. Meanwhile crafting is her "Passion domain" meaning her power in it literally stems from her intense enjoyment for creating. Imagine "What else can I do" from Encanto, but it's her discovering making clothes for the first time. The angst factor of this obviously being "My life has one mission, create the greatest warrior" Why is that her one mission? Is it the crushing weight of who she has to be?

My favorite bigger concept has to be her relationship with truth. In other words, Athena lies and manipulates her way through life, she is smarter than her father but knows he holds the power, so her council is whatever works in the moment, if she knows it's hopeless, she'll tell him what he wants to hear. Life has become a game for her, a game where she sells her soul for approval, bc she's lost those who loved her unconditionally, and can't trust those around her bc they're all trapped in the game with her, she doesn't want to be the favorite, she needs to be the favorite, it's the only way to survive, the only way for some semblance of safety and control, and yes, she gets along with mortals better than gods because they hold no power over her, they can't threaten the position she's worked so hard to achieve. Until Odysseus compromises a part of her that she hadn't thought she still had. Attachment never felt like danger with Pallas, but it does now, because what does it matter if you're more powerful when you respect the other person too much not to honor their wishes, should they tell you to leave them alone? If asked, she will have to leave, and that's terrifying (None of that would be overly conscious before My goodbye but for me, that breakup deep down always will be Athena being scared of her own feelings and trying to stop it before it goes too far and being at least 15 years too late.)

Woah that got dark lol I just wrote the last section and was like 👀fuck I am projecting SO bad. Like... gods I am so not okay. Jokes on me I thought I had headcanons all I have is trauma lmao

Anyways lol

Hope you liked it, and do let me know if you had something else in mind, I'll do my best :3

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ FLESH AND BLOOD — platonic douma & reader !

synopsis. douma’s child knows there is only one way to truly escape: killing their father. warnings. kny-typical blood, death & yknow... eating people. knives, threats of violence. unhealthy family dynamics. douma is his own warning tbh. notes. PLATONIC. (terrible) father figure!douma. gn!reader. they/them used. angst. 3.6k words. read warnings pls! @romaritimeharbor you were right, i couldn't write a happy ending. this man was made for horror, not fluff.

Every step [Name] takes is heavy.

There’s a knife strapped to their belt, hidden under several layers of clothing. They swiped in from the kitchens one night on a whim, sneaking behind two chefs who were too engrossed in an argument about spices to notice them. Once they left—with neither chef noticing them at all—they took to work fashioning a strap to attach it to their belt, and tucked it under their clothes. When they were finished, it swung on their hip, occasionally bumping against their thigh if they ran too quickly. Secure, but still accessible; exactly how they wanted it.

It isn’t the most ideal weapon. They haven’t had enough experience wielding it to even know what to do with it if their situation called for a fight, but it hangs by their side like an anchor. The slight pressure, with the glint of metal separated from their skin by a single layer of fabric, grounds them.

Every night, they make sure the edge is sharpened, before tucking it under their pillow with one hand slotted underneath. Idly, their fingers trace the edge of the handle, prepared to close around it should they wake up to an attack.

And yet, even with the care they have to make sure the knife is always close to their side, they have never once used it. It’s a safeguard more than anything else; a reminder that no matter what happens in the lion’s den they call a home, they are ready and prepared to fight their way out to safety. It didn’t need to be withdrawn; a simple pat to their side to make sure the weapon was still safely attached to their belt was enough to steady their nerves.

As they walk through the halls with feather-light footsteps, their heartbeat pounds with the wings of a hummingbird. They force their breath to even out into a steady pattern, squeezing their hands into fists to stop them from shaking. They were not the apex predator in this place, but they’d be damned if they were reduced to mere prey.

Through the halls of their home, they pass countless faces that greet them with big smiles and waves. They don’t stop for a single one, only nodding slightly and murmuring a greeting for each. One woman in particular gasps as she sees them, peeling away from her group to catch their arm as they walk by.

“Ah, [Name]! I was speaking with Lord Douma earlier, and he requested that you join him for dinner tonight!” The woman smiles brightly at them. They bite back a sharp retort, instead forcing a smile.

“If you see him again, tell my father that I might be late,” they say smoothly. The words feel like poison on their tongue, but they spit them out anyway.

Father was once a word they used with pride. It was babbled through lips that barely knew the sounds they were making, but the title was met with a blinding smile. Douma seemed to take pride in the word as well, if the way he scooped them into his arms every time they called him it was any indication. He’d press his cheek to their hair, squeezing them against his chest like they were a stuffed toy. A laugh, brimming with almost childlike glee, and an excited, “Yes, yes, that’s it! I’m your father, and you’re my darling little child.”

They were happy as his child, for a long time. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t their family by blood; he was the one to take them in when they were only a baby, giving them all they could ever want or need and spoiling them beyond comprehension. He adored them, more than anything. That was what he promised, at least.

Their childhood was happy, as happy one can be when raised in a cult. The followers loved them as much as they loved Douma himself, showering them with attention and gifts when he wasn’t there to give them it instead. [Name] learned to look past the smiles, to not get attached to the voices that spoke their name with reverence, because it was almost never the same face that greeted them twice. It didn’t matter too much, because Douma was always there to fill the gaps with his warm embraces.

But they grew older, as children do, and the haze of paradise slowly cleared. The mysteries of their youth that once felt like exciting secrets to unearth began to weigh on them, and they found themself pestering Douma with endless questions. Questions like ‘Why do people keep disappearing?’ and ‘What’s beyond the Eternal Paradise?’

To their frustration, his responses were vague and dismissive, never leaving them satisfied. The only answers they received were ‘They’ve achieved Paradise.’ and ‘Nothing. There is nothing worth seeing beyond here.’

Douma always said they were naturally inquisitive, but that burning desire for answers only brewed a frustration in their chest that never seemed to be quelled by his distant answers. He was hiding things, they could see it on his face. There were too many things that he kept secret to be coincidence, too many details that didn’t add up.

Their fervent pursuit of answers led to one place: the door at the end of main hall. It was locked at all times, the only place they were forbidden from entering. Douma was especially serious when he informed them the room was off limits, his eyes turning sharp when he questioned him about it.

“This is my home and yours, and you are free to roam everywhere else, but that place isn’t for you, little one.”

The words might have deterred them as a child, but they couldn’t let their curiosity fester any longer.

There was one key that opened every lock in the cult, hidden in a secret compartment in the main room that Douma didn’t think they knew about. One night as slipped through the door and locked it behind him, they stole the key, slipping it in the lock and turning the handle.

The first thing they noticed was red. It covered the room, spilling across his table, dripping steadily on his tiled floors and splattering across the walls in an angry scarlet. The second thing they noticed was that their father was covered in it. The colour was smeared across his face, trickling from his lips and down his chin. It stained his robes and coated his hands, but he barely noticed; he was too busy swiping his tongue across his lips to soak up the excess droplets.

Among the carnage was the lifeless figure of a woman, her body mangled and thrown carelessly at his feet. Douma himself was lounging on a chair, his legs crossed, unbothered by the nightmarish scene surrounding him. One of his hands clasped a severed arm, bringing it to his teeth and tearing off a chunk of flesh. He hummed as he ate, licking his lips like he was savouring the taste.

In all their years of growing up by his side, they’d watched as Douma had ignored the gifts of food his followers brought him, yet now, now he seemed to find his appetite. Their skin crawled, memories of rejected meals and his claims of already eating echoing in their ears. When he locked himself in the room, was this what he was doing? Was this where their missing followers ended up?

They clutched their arm, pressing their nails hard enough to leave marks against their skin. The sight was something out of their worst nightmares, yet the sting of pain was a sharp reminder that it was reality. Nausea bubbled up in their stomach, but they forced it down long enough to close the door with a quiet click and lock it again.

They never confronted him after that day. They could barely look him in the eye long enough to do so. But one thing was clear: as long as he lived, they and all of the followers of the Eternal Paradise faith were in danger.

Their hand brushed against their hip. The cold press of metal through their clothes eased their nerves.

A proper fighter would have a sword, and use it to slice his head clean off, but they would have to make do with a simple kitchen knife. Eventually the moment would present itself, eventually he would be off his guard, and they would have the chance to ambush him. The edge of the blade was sharp, all it would take is one slice across his throat and his life would be snuffed out.

They ignored the nagging part of them that told them it wouldn’t be enough, that Douma had to be something inhuman, something powerful, something that took more than a slit throat to kill. It whispered that a creature so heartless that it would slaughter and consume innocent humans couldn’t possibly be an ordinary mortal being.

They especially ignored the part of them that blanched at even the thought of harming him, the man that brought them in and doted on them every day of their life. That was the part that wished they could go back and never look through the door, maintaining a fragile bliss that wasn’t wrought with fear and uncertainty; the part that urged them to forget, to close their eyes and let him be their adoring father again.

Their footsteps haltered as they approached the open doorway that led to the main room of the building. Even the entrance was ornately decorated, with delicately painted screens separating it from the rest of the rooms.

“Is someone there?” A voice called out sharply. Their breath caught in their throat, and they patted their side instinctively. With a careful glance around the door, they saw him, sitting in the centre of the elaborate room on his usual cushioned seat.

“Are you hiding?” Douma asks, his eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable. He leans his head on his hand, smiling at where they are half-concealed behind the doorway. “My child, is that you? Come on out, don’t be shy.”

There was no point trying to pretend they weren’t there. With a deep breath, they step into the light.

“It is my child!” He laughs, in a voice that could be mistaken for delight. If they were a little younger they would have beamed at the sound, but their maturity had earned them the skill of seeing right through his cheery demeanour. “[Name], have you come to visit me?”

“Yes.” They say stiffly, forcing a neutral expression. They ignored the way his smile softened; it was a lie, it had to be.

“Aren’t I a lucky father?” Douma pauses to wipe away a fake tear, the sight making something curl uncomfortably in their gut. He pats the area beside his chair. “Come, sit down.”

When they were a baby—back when the brightness of his smile felt genuine—he would sit them on his lap, letting them play with his fans while he spoke to his followers. They were too old for that now, so instead they tiptoe inside and settle beside the chair, sitting with their knees tucked to their chest.

“How are you today, [Name]? It feels like forever since we’ve caught up.” Douma asks them as they sit, smiling over at them. They pick at the edge of their clothing, not meeting his eye.

“What does the writing in your eyes mean?” They suddenly ask, instead of answering.

“Curious today, are we?” Douma chuckles. He taps his nail just below his right eye. “I’m sure you know what this one is.”

They nod, recognizing the numeral. “It’s… two, right?”

“Yes, it is! Such a smart child I have.” Douma’s grin widens, and he points the other one. “What about this one?”

They squint at his eye, observing the thin brushstrokes over the rainbow-coloured iris. It wasn’t a character they recognized, even after their studies. “I don’t know.”

“This one—” Douma tapped his nail against his skin. “Is a combination of two characters. Together it means Upper Rank.”

“Upper Rank…?” They echo. “Upper Rank Two? What does that mean?”

“It’s my ranking.” Douma hums, not bothering to explain further. “Is it my turn to ask a question now?”

Their posture stiffens. “If you want.”

Douma clapped his hands together. “Oh, how fun! What to ask… what to ask…”

He pauses to think, tapping his finger on his chin. “Oh, I have one! What have you been doing with your days?” Douma leans his head on his hand with a smile. “I’ve barely seen you recently. You used to spend so much time with me.”

They swallow down the anxiety that bubbled up at his question. The truthful answer was that they had been carefully avoiding his room, not bothering to stop by unless they were called specifically. The rest of their days were spent sneaking around, scoping out potential escape routes, or making sure their knife was sharp and ready to kill.

“Just… things.” They say vaguely.

Douma stares at them with a pleasantly puzzled expression. “Things…?”

“Yes.”

“How fascinatingly mundane!”

“I guess I’m just a boring person.” They shrug.

“And what about that knife you’ve been carrying around, hm?” Douma asks, his smile not faltering, even as their heart stopped. “I would love to know what you’re planning with that one!”

His eyes are crinkling with the force of his smile, but there is no warmth behind it. They narrow their own eyes, quickly rising to their feet and taking a step backwards. His gaze tracks their every movement, following their hand as they fumble at their belt to pull out the knife from their makeshift sheath.

“Guess.” Their hands shake, but the ready the weapon anyway. “Take a guess as to what I’m planning with it.”

One slice at his throat. One slit, and he’s dead. One cut, and this whole nightmare will end, and he will never be able to hurt anyone again. This was what they'd been preparing for.

“Are you going to kill me?” Douma coos, standing from his chair and grinning. “How adorable!”

“Sh-Shut up!” They hiss, gripping the handle tighter. “I know what you did! I know about that poor woman, the one you murdered and devoured! How many followers have you killed, huh? Was I next? Have you just been raising me like a pig for slaughter?”

“Oh.” A tilt of his head, and a saddened expression that looked… almost real. Almost. They tighten their grip on the blade, reprimanding themself for nearly falling for his act. It wasn’t real, none of it was. They couldn’t forget that, no matter how hurt his expression looked. “I don’t want to kill you, my child.”

“I don’t believe you!” They yell back.

Douma tilts his head to look at them, his face still twisted in that same mask of pity. He took one step towards them, then another, until they were face to face. Before they could blink, his hand was gripping their wrist tight enough to bruise.

“I’m not going to kill you, [Name].” He says sadly, twisting their wrist to seize the knife and holding it up out of their reach. “I am not going to hurt you, nor am I going to let anything else hurt you. It makes me sad that you can’t see that.”

“You’re a monster.” They hiss, their eyes filled with tears. They stumble a few steps back, putting some semblance of distance between them.

Douma chuckles slightly. “And you’re my child. What does that make you?”

They flinch as if he had struck them, stumbling back even further at his words. “I am nothing like you!”

“Aren’t you?” Douma says, his voice thick and sweet like honey. “Oh, we aren’t related by blood but I raised you from birth. Why do you think I would spare such a frail creature like yourself, if I didn’t see a part of myself in you? We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I. You’re my child, through and through.”

“I’m nothing like you!” They cry out. “You’re a murderer!”

“Yet you’re the one who was plotting my death.” He waves the kitchen knife in front of their face with amusement dancing on his lips. “That sounds an awful lot like the work of a murderer to me.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it though? It’s still homicide.”

“It was self-defence!”

Douma chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Killing me isn’t self-defence if I haven’t laid a hand on you. I’m afraid that’s just called murder.”

“You’re—” Their words died in their throat. No matter how cruel he sounded saying them, he was right. They were planning to kill him. Maybe they were no better than him after all. “You’re… you’re a monster… I had to kill you. Before… you killed me. That was why I had the knife.”

“Oh, I’m afraid this little thing wouldn’t do much,” Douma laughs as he waves the weapon. With a smile, he drew back the sleeve of his robe and pressed the edge of the knife to the back of his arm. He drags the blade across it, smiling serenely as a line of bright red blood drips down his skin. In seconds the cut is knitting itself back together, leaving only a stain of scarlet over his fully healed skin. “It’s adorable that you thought you could hurt me, but simple weapons like these don’t leave a scratch on me.”

Their heart stopped, watching the mark smooth out and fade into nothing.

It… didn’t matter. All the nights of cutting their fingers of the edge in their haste to make sure it was still under their pillow didn’t matter. The comforting weight at their side wasn't worth anything; it never would have achieved a thing in the first place.

They were a sheep wandering around the den of a wolf, confidently thinking their blunt hooves would be enough to pierce its hide. A painful feeling washed over them—powerlessness.

Their eyes began to burn, along with their chest. As quickly as the rush of adrenaline filled their body, it left, knocking all the air out of their lungs. Tears slowly started dripping down their cheeks, quietly at first, before they were followed by heaving sobs.

“I do love you, my child.” Douma sighs. Lie, it was a lie. “I wish you wouldn’t have done something like this. I was so happy to watch you grow up, content keeping you alive and human. Now what am I to do?”

Their shoulders hitch, hands scrubbing desperately at their eyes. There was a calculating glint in his eyes, before Douma stepped forward again and pulled them into a cold embrace.

“What am I to do with you…” Douma muses, holding them against his chest as they sobbed. The front of his robes were covered in tears and snot but he paid it no mind, just sighing softly and running his fingers through their hair. “My poor child…”

The feeling of his fingers through their hair made them shiver. Were his nails always so sharp, or was his touch just soft enough to hide it?

“What was your plan?” Douma pulls them away to look at their face properly, a sparkle of amusement in his eye. “Where were you going to go, after you killed me, hm? You know there’s nothing out there for you. No one would want to take in a murderer, especially one who killed their own father in cold blood.”

“I would have found somewhere.” They mumble, slowing their sobs to quiet sniffles.

Douma shook his head fondly, like they were discussing something trivial. “Oh, my sweet child, who put such an idea in your head? There is nowhere you can go. Here, it is safe. Here is happy. Why would you ever leave?”

They wanted to scream their anguish, kicking and clawing at him until his face was red and bloody. This man—no, this monster masqueraded as a loving father for years, all while blood spilled behind his gilded doors. But the saccharine sweetness that his voice carried wormed its way into their ears, poisoning their thoughts and—

Such a disappointing, ungrateful child they must be. He welcomed them into his arms, and they were planning to—

Their mind was split. All of their instincts screamed at them to run, run until their lungs burned and their feet bled, but there was a gnawing part of them that clung to his honeyed words. At least when they were in his favour they were safe; they could turn away from the truth and cling to their fractured picture of family. Maybe if they fell to their knees and begged him for forgiveness, he would forget all about their betrayal and welcome them as his child again.

They weren’t anywhere near strong enough to kill him. The least they could do was survive.

“What do you have to say for yourself, [Name]?” Douma asks gently, and something in them snaps.

They fall forward, burying their face in his chest and clutching onto the back of his robes with a wail. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“That’s what I thought…” Douma sighs in almost amusement. He places his hand on the top of their head, ruffling their hair gently.

“I’m sorry… I’ll never do it again, I promise. Please… please don’t leave me! I don’t know what I would be without you,” they cry, the words spilling out so easily they can’t tell if they’re a lie or not.

It wasn’t the end. One day his guard would drop and they would seize the chance, taking everything they own and running away into the night. They will run, not knowing where they will end up but knowing they need to be anywhere but there. Even if it means spending the rest of their life shying away from dark corners and patting their side to check on their weapon, they will escape.

For now, they weep in the arms of their father.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[luvo27]

Fantasy High Gravity Falls au:

Opens with riz and fig sitting next to each other upstairs listening to their parents argue: namely, gilear and sandra lynn are arguing with each other, and gorthalax and sklonda are trying to mediate

The cause of the argument is, of course, the revelation that fig is not gilear’s biological daughter with the growing in of her horns

Gorthalax, not having known that fig was his biologically, now wants to be a part of his daughter’s life: riz and sklonda are there because he’s dating sklonda

This is the first time riz and fig have met. It’s super awkward! Very wow i can’t believe im meeting this girl because her mom cheated on her dad. Wow i cant believe im meeting this guy because my mom cheated on my dad with his moms boyfriend

Anyways, sklonda and gorthalax are like, “clearly you and gilear need some time and space to figure things out, and the kids really shouldn’t have to deal with this. Why don’t we send them away for the summer?”

“Where?”

Gorthalax: “well, i grew up in this lovely town called Gravity Falls. I have a friend there—”

“Friend?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure what else to call him. Friend is about as accurate a description that I can apply. Ex-boss?”

“Fair. But we’re really going to send the kids to stay with him?”

“It’ll be a good learning experience!”

Anyways riz and fig get sent to Gravity Falls to live with one Arthur Aguefort who runs the Mystery Shack

For some reason despite never having been affiliated with a school in any capacity, he insists they call him Principal Aguefort. He’s the most unhelpful adult either riz or fig have met in their entire lives, but he provides them with rooms and food, so that’s chill. They can entertain themselves anyways.

Gorgug, Adaine, Kristen, and Fabian are all Gravity Falls residents. Gorgug and Adaine work at the mystery shack part time, Fabian’s this weird rich kid who hangs around with them for no apparent reason, kristen is way too casual about the cult that she escaped from and constantly talks about how she and adaine live in the woods with a pack of werewolves

There’s a werewolf episode where they actually meet said werewolves: enter tracker and jawbone

Anyways, fig and riz get to know each other over the course of the summer and grow close with the other gravity falls kids as they get into fun and delightful adventures

Riz finds a journal at some point early in the summer with a feather burned into the cover, and uses this to guide all his friends in their adventures

At some point, they meet adaine’s sister who still lives with their parents after she reluctantly comes to adaine and her friends for help exorcising their mansion. It turns out it’s a trap to try to kidnap adaine back home. Adaine lets (read: commands) the ghosts haunting her old family home to kill her dad. The van with hands chases their mom into the woods. No one is particularly sad about either of these events. Aelwyn is going to take over this mansion and fill it with the cats she always wanted but could never have. Adaine, kristen, and their werewolf adoptive family move in. there are MANY sleepovers.

At some point there’s an episode where the kids find out that Fabian is part mermaid when his pirate mermaid family comes to visit

At some point there’s an episode about ghosts and the afterlife where riz gets to say hi to his dad briefly

As the summer progresses, fig grows more comfortable with her demon heritage. Sklonda, Gorthalax, Gilear, and Sklonda visit to check in on their kids on weekends when they can, and fig delights in getting to know her bio dad and repairing her relationship with gilear, and she basically adopts sklonda as a second mom, and she’s really excited to have riz as a brother, plus they’ve made all these really cool friends that she can keep in touch with now.

Riz, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about what’s going to happen when the summer ends. He’s gotten attached to Fig as a sister, and when the summer ends and her parents sort out their problems is that going to mean that they’re going to go back to how they were before? He doesn’t want to leave his new friends behind, he doesn’t want to go back to the way his life was before, he doesn’t want to lose any of this

Theres an episode where the kids track down gorgugs parents

It’s either about how his bio parents had their memories of gorgug wiped and the bad kids tracking them down and solving that mystery

Or is just completely normal.

“Hey gorgug do you want to find your bio parents?”

“Huh. sounds fun. sure!”

There’s an episode where the kids find arthur’s stash of fake identities.

“Who the fuck is Barthur Baguefort?”

“It’s Arthur wearing sunglasses.”

There’s an episode where the bad kids encounter and probably kill kristen’s former cult

None of the kids are particularly close to Arthur. They don’t really care about the secrets he’s hiding.

At some point, riz is trying to solve some conspiracy or the other, and this is when kalina first appears to him

At some point, the kids wake up to find arthur’s left his secret basement door room open when the kids are having a sleepover. They go in as the portal is opening, and out steps the author of the journals: ayda aguefort.

She’s been traversing the multiverse after an argument with her dad got her thrown in there during one of her research projects. Traversing the multiverse was kind of chill, actually, she’s got a hunger for knowledge and boy did she learn a lot on her adventures

She joins the bad kids on their adventures, and fig is of course delighted to have another friend (and maybe more!)

The time the kids have left before summer ends grows shorter and shorter.

Kalina appears to fig. She makes her an offer, she wants to make a deal. Fig could be gilears biological daughter, if she wants. She could have parents who never cheated on each other, she could go back to her happy idyllic childhood.

Fig does not take the deal. The entire summer for her was finding the silver lining, was learning how to repair relationships and move forwards. If her heritage never came to light, she never would have grown her family basically three times as large

So kalina goes to riz. And riz is so, so desperate. All he wants in the world is a guarantee that people won’t leave him. And kalina? Delivers.

So riz is thrown into a bubble dimension with his devoted partner created to fulfill his deal in the most monkeys paw of situations: enter baron from the baronies

The thing kalina gets out of this deal is for the Nightmare King to be let into their realm, bringing the apocalypse into gravity falls one weekend when riz and figs parents are visiting

The bad kids now have to save riz and defeat the nightmare king. Power of friendship time!

Pooling together collective knowledge from everyone’s adventures: the parents, who used to live in gravity falls, ayda, whos been traversing dimensions, the bad kids, who’ve been messing about with random stuff all summer, they piece together the nightmare king’s story

Kristen’s old cult is plot relevant now! It turns out that they were a doomsday cult and hundreds of years ago, sacrificed the being known as the nightmare king in an attempt to bring about the end of times. They thought it didn’t work, but they’re probably delighted that it’s finally happening

Kristen had escaped the cult because she was being set up to be the sacrifice for apocalypse attempt part 2. This makes her uniquely suited to extend a hand.

“Oh, dude, I totally get what you’re going through. But like, me and my friends completely wiped out those guys-like, killed—”

“Killed? What have you kids been up to? I knew we shouldn’t have trusted aguefort with children—”

“So it’s chill now! And like, bringing about the apocalypse is only going to give them what they want, so maybe don’t do that. I get it though, like I’ve been exactly where you are. Like, exactly. Crazy how the world works, right? Anyways, my name’s Kristen. What’s yours?”

Enter cassandra!

The summer wraps up. The question remains: where do they go from here?

Sandra lynn and gilear have decided that separating is the best option for them. And over their visits, sandra lynns gotten to know jawbone and there’s definitely something there…

I think it’s kind of bittersweet. Sandra lynn and fig move in with jawbone, and sklonda and riz and gorthalax go back to their old place. Summer doesn’t last forever, as much as anyone might want it to, but you don’t need to go back to how you were before. Gorthalax visits fig all the time, and when he can, riz joins, and when sklonda can, she comes along as well. She’s got friends in gravity falls too. Maybe it’s about learning to trust that people will put in the effort to keep up with each other when it gets more difficult. Maybe it’s about the family you find along the way, and the ways you’ll always keep them. Maybe life doesn’t work out how you thought. Maybe reality sets in, overtaking the summer haze. Maybe it’s better. Who knows?

Where did kalina go? What was her whole deal? I have no idea.

[isa-ghost]

Birds of a Feather AU

General Concept

Somehow someway, following the events of QSMP, hc!Phil and o!Phil cross paths while o!Phil is in a minor crisis. Surviving on his own while searching for his parents is going,,, not well. But luckily, this "old fuck" he's encountered has seemingly infinite wisdom about life and survival, which is-- whether he wants to admit it or not --exactly what he needs.

Little do either of them know, they have strangely similar yet distinctly unique traumas, and the longer they spend time together, the more they'll start to heal each other as a sort of Mentor And Apprentice dynamic develops.

hc!Phil

Is also SMPEarth!Phil, c!Phil, and q!Phil. All lore from those SMPs apply to him. All of my qPhil headcanons also apply to him.

Typical vaguely slutty /j fanon Phil outfit. Also has his Antarctic Empire outfit, and his Quesadilla Island "vacation" outfit (a beach coverup like his robe, a sunhat like his normal hat, and a green print Hawaiian shirt.) (Hopefully I'll eventually draw that)

Trust and attachments are complicated for him. He can't help but develop them, it's only natural, but with losing Chay & Lullah so recent in his mind, the wound is raw and he's once again gone back to keeping everyone he meets at arm's length or further away. He is NOT going to be happy stumbling across o!Phil, especially when they just,, kinda become stuck with each other.

o!Phil

Obviously the cameo from Rats SMP applies to him. I might also apply Phil's cameo in ASMP to o!Phil even though that wasn't o!Phil just because they were sorta similar in personality.

Goes by Crowfather. Phil has, in Crowfather's words: annoyingly, nicknamed him "Crowley"

Basically 1:1 with his skin but like. The hot brooding fanart versions people make. Basically looks like a bougie goth aristocrat but bird. Has more actual bird traits whereas Phil is more just,, a dude with wings and bird mannerisms (perching, collecting shiny things, etc)

Is this weird equilibrium between being cold as fuck and sociable. Is an entitled snot at the worst of times and a clearly clueless, golden spoon-fed tory who doesn't know a damn thing about the real world at best. He's been forced into this position by Circumstances (his parents being MIA) and is still working through figuring out how to be an independent and actually likeable person.

Phil is teaching him the above, at least the independence part. Unlike Crowley, Phil has lived for god knows how long and that's given him tons of life experience and wisdom to pass on.

Deep inside, he's just severely hurt and traumatized. Still not a good person outside as a result, but much of the outside would change if the inside healed.

Misc Plot & Lore Stuff

Vague Plot

Phil & Crowley's Dynamic

Crowley's Character Development

[therhythmafterthesummer]

A Mutually Beneficial Agreement (M) ~Bang Chan | [2/3]

Pairing: Demon!Chan x AFAB.Reader Themes: Supernatural AU | Angst | Smut | Some fluff Word Count: ~14k | AO3 Synopsis: Your favourite demon seemed to be full of surprises, some you could more than get used to, but others that… you weren’t sure you could get used to at all. [You can find part 1 of this story here]. Warnings: religious themes · pet names · alcohol consumption · harassment (it’s kinda mild but still yucky) · corporate bullshit · there’s a lot of focus on the reader’s feet, but not in that way · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: because i am incapable of being normal, here’s a part 2 to what was supposed to be a fun little one shot. especial thanks to @notastraykid and @decembermoonskz for reading this before anyone else and sharing their very valuable feedback with me💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

Smut Warnings: literal monster cock · oral [F.Rec] · rimming [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] (the reader is presumed to be on birth control) · lack of aftercare (due to unforeseen events. you know i don’t write my Christophers like that, but i figured i should give a warning for those of you that get triggered or feel yucky after reading something like this).

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

The marble wall was cool against your back, a complete contrast to the heat against your torso. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to coat your skin, enough that the friction produced between your back and the wall with each movement was starting to become uncomfortable, but, being honest, it was hard to register it. It was hard to care about it at all.

The place was cool around you, yet you were burning up. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, all you could do was hold onto his shoulders, trusting him enough to not let you fall while he held you in his arms and took you wholly, right there against the wall, right here on sacred land.

There were pants and heavy breaths and quiet moans mingling with the sound of frogs croaking somewhere outside. They were always loud at this time of the night, loud enough that you could hear their symphony in here.

Plush lips were attached to your collarbone, gently nibbling and sucking on the thin skin. The attention alone easily pulled desperate whines out of your mouth, but, coupled with his calculated thrusts, it all had your mind completely melting into a puddle.

You clawed at his back, sometimes ruffling the dark feathers under your fingertips. He’d always shiver whenever you touched him here, especially towards the base of the appendages. 

He was so good.

He was so, so good, and you just loved him so much. More than you’d ever loved the sun. 

You were convinced meeting him was the best thing to ever happen to you. He was warm and caring and just absolutely everything. He’d become your everything. 

His presence soothed you, his displays of affection made you feel full, he managed to satisfy you in ways you’d only ever dreamt of, and he simply made you feel things you’d never felt before.

How could you possibly need anything else? 

You didn’t.

You just needed him.

His pace was relentless, his tail wrapped around your thigh, just because it could, and you vaguely realised you’d been caressing one of the horns on his head along with his feathered appendages. His wings enveloped you both, shielding you from the outside world, they provided a warm, safe cocoon just for the two of you.

Against everything you’d been taught, against every single belief you’d been indoctrinated into, you simply adored him. 

When he pulled away from your neck, you couldn’t help but open your eyes. He looked at you like you were the sun. Like he adored you. 

Staring into that gentle brown, you could feel that pool of arousal in the pit of your stomach steadily filling up, you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into this seemingly endless lake of lov–

Your body jolted at the sound of your alarm.

You hated alarms. You needed them, but you always hated them. Sleep was precious to you, it let you disconnect from the world around you, it recharged you, which was exactly what you had needed before you took this nap earlier this afternoon.

Tonight was important, so of course you set up your alarm, even if you hated it. You couldn’t just sleep it off and miss everything, not after weeks and weeks of planning.

As you sat up on your bed and stretched your limbs, you could feel warmth all around you. You dreamt often, several times a week since the day you gained awareness. However, you could never remember your dreams. Whenever you woke up, it seemed like that feeling of warmth was all you had left.

It almost made you feel… sad. Or, maybe a better word to describe the emotion you felt would be melancholy. Why you felt this way, though, you weren’t sure.

No point in dwelling on it. Tonight was the big company event you’d been waiting to attend for months now. You were hoping to do some networking, to make acquaintances with some of the higher-ups, so you had to look and act your absolute best to achieve that.

A good scrubbing, and a scalding-hot shower later, you stood in front of your bed, staring at the two outfits you had splayed out on top of your duvet. A bright red dress, very short, very… slutty. It would certainly drive attention to yourself, which was kind of what you wanted, but would that be the type of attention you needed? Your friend had told you any attention was good attention, but was it really?

The other dress was a bit more modest. Royal blue, with the tiniest bit of sparkles sprinkled all throughout. It wasn’t as short, but it had a slit that was high enough to drive attention, while also sitting low enough for it to not be too much. It was honestly your preferred option. You’d worn it before, you knew you looked good in it, and you felt fairly comfortable wearing it.

So you did.

Eye make-up to match and a lipstick to contrast adorned your face. You started putting on your jewellery, trying on different options to make sure you wore the most suitable accessories.

As you did, the energy in your room shifted. The air got thick, in that exact way that made you dizzy, that almost made your knees buck under the pressure.

“Oh? Going somewhere, pretty thing?”

Of course Chris would choose the worst possible night to appear in your bedroom… Of course just his presence and the sound of his voice would light up your insides like a Christmas tree.

“I am”, you replied simply, fastening your earrings before you finally turned to look at him.

Chris sat cross-legged on your bed, barefoot, clad in that flowy, hanbok-like, silky suit he always wore. The colour matched his eyes, black, barely even reflecting light.

Placing his hands behind him, Chris leaned back and looked at you. You could feel his gaze trailing your form, from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes.

He seemed to be fixated on the silver ring you’d put on one of your toes for a moment, right before he returned his eyes to yours and offered you a smirk.

“You look good”, his tail unravelled from where it'd been resting around his waist, and the tip of it started to mindlessly trace the side of his thigh.

A smile spread across your face. “You think so?”

With a slow twirl, you offered him the full three-sixty view of your outfit. By the time you were looking at him again, his tail had fully wrapped around his thigh.

“I do. It’s a shame that such a pretty dress will be torn to pieces soon”.

You clicked your tongue at him disapprovingly, placing your hands on your hips. “This was an expensive dress, you know? Unless you can replace it, I won’t give you consent to do it”.

As the words left your mouth, a pout formed on Chris’ lips. It honestly made him look… adorable. What an odd gesture for a demon to make, but you had long since stopped trying to understand his ways.

“So it’s your work thing, huh?” Chris un-crossed his legs, letting them fall from the edge of your bed to plant his feet on the floor. While he was still leaning on his hands, with his legs spread like this, a small–and very horny–part of your brain started urging you to get on your knees. But you just… ignored it.

It still surprised you that Chris remembered these things. You vaguely recalled telling him about this a couple of weeks ago, right before you fell asleep after hours and hours of letting him have his way with you. Sometimes, the things he remembered about you made you wonder what he did when he wasn’t here. Did he just have a supernatural photographic memory, or did he truly care? You never really got the courage to ask…

“Mm. Tonight’s the big event”, you briefly looked at the clock on your bedside table. You had to leave soon, otherwise you might get stuck in traffic, which could possibly ruin your plans for the night.

Chris just hummed in acknowledgement, but he didn’t say anything else. You didn’t, either. You simply walked towards your bed, and, ignoring that sudden urge to straddle him and settle yourself on his lap, you sat down next to him before you reached for your heels.

The heels matched your jewellery, they weren’t necessarily comfortable, but they certainly went well with this dress. You slipped one of them on, and just before you started wrapping the long straps around your heel, Chris moved.

“Let me”, he mumbled, kneeling in front of you and taking the straps out of your hands.

It was honestly insane how the mere contact of his fingers on yours made your heart skip a beat. You supposed it made sense, considering who he was, or, more accurately, what he was, considering what you often did together… 

Slowly, gently, Chris started wrapping the straps around your heel, making his way up your leg. You just looked at him, alternating your focus between the horns protruding from his skull, to the features of his face, and to his hands diligently working your heels.

“Tonight I might not be… I might not have enough energy for, uh… Y’know”, for you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name, would’ve been an accurate statement, but you honestly felt like saying it out loud would trigger something. It wouldn’t have been the first time you missed an appointment you had because you’d said something similar…

Chris chuckled, finally tying a knot to keep the straps in place just below your knee. Thankfully, he’d used enough pressure for them to be secure around your leg, but not enough to cut your circulation. 

His attention shifted to the other leg. Holding your ankle, he eased the matching heel on your foot before he started repeating the motions with the straps of this one. 

Chris was working very slowly. Almost as if he was dragging out the moment…

You realised he was, in fact, stalling, the moment you felt his lips on your shin. Saliva started pooling in your mouth at the sight and the feel of his lips on your skin. His eyes were closed, but he was somehow still performing his task with ease, all as he pressed lingering kisses up your shin, until he reached your knee.

For a moment, your subconscious was screaming at you, telling you to open your legs and let him ease himself right in between them, but, not only could you not let that happen right now, it also didn’t seem like that was Chris’ goal. On the contrary, his lips stopped at your knee, right before he opened his eyes and looked up at you.

If you looked hard enough, you could’ve sworn you could see stars swimming in the endless darkness that were his eyes.

“It’s okay, sweetheart”, his lips brushed against your skin with every word, and, somehow, that was the moment you started to feel your cheeks heating up. “I’ll be honest, it’s not like I’m thrilled about it, especially not after seeing you like this, all dolled up… But it’s fine. You’ve got your own life to live, after all”.

A gentle smile made its way to his face. It seemed to contrast with his overall look, with his horns and the void in his eyes and just his aura in general… But, somehow, it still felt genuine. It always did with Chris.

You swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth, and it wasn’t until Chris looked away from your face to focus on tying the straps of your heel, that you were finally able to look away from him to check the clock.

You sighed. “I have to go”.

With one final kiss to your shin, Chris finally let go of your leg and stood up from the floor. He offered his hand to you, you simply took it and let him pull you up from the bed before his arm wrapped around your waist and his tail found your thigh. 

You held your breath in anticipation, closing your eyes only when his free hand found your cheek. 

You felt his plush lips on your forehead, and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn you had started trembling.

Chris was so warm. His closeness made you dizzy, the way his tail tightened on your thigh made your mind wander, it made you remember what it could do, what he could do to you… 

Before you knew it, your hands were buried in his hair, and your lips were on his, savouring the taste of him on your tongue. Sweet, but not overly so. Just perfect, like the flavour had been crafted specifically to your own tastes. Chris’ hold on your body tightened, and the moment his tongue made contact with your lips you simply let him in, because why wouldn’t you? 

You figured a small treat couldn’t hurt… As long as you didn’t let him get you out of your dress, as long as you managed to pull yourself away from him within the next five minutes, it should be fine. You deserved this much.

A few moments passed. Moments where all you could register was both halves of his tongue and his lips and his warmth. But then he pulled away from your lips. You mindlessly chased after him, because you just wanted more. You really, really deserved it. You needed it.

Chris just pulled back a bit more, fixing his eyes on your lips before he pressed his thumb to your lower lip. He swiped over the plump, moist flesh, and his eyebrows furrowed the tiniest bit.

“This is some good-ass lipstick. Not even a single smudge…”

He sounded genuinely annoyed by it, and it honestly made you chuckle. “Maybe they should add demon-proof as a selling point”.

Chris chuckled at that. With a shake of his head, he returned his gaze to your eyes, just as he pushed his thumb inside your mouth. You gladly accepted it, gently sucking it further in as you slowly ran your tongue over the pad of it. 

“I’ll drop by later to check in on you anyway, alright?”

You hummed in agreement, letting his thumb fall out of your mouth. He could drop by at any time, regardless of how inconvenient it could be. Honestly, you wanted him to drop by… You just hoped you did have enough energy left later in the evening.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he was going to say died on his tongue, cut off by the shrill of one of your trillion alarms resonating in your bedroom. 

With a deep breath, you finally let go of him. His tail loosened from where it’d been holding onto your thigh, finally moving away from you completely as you started to walk away. It left the faint imprint of snakeskin behind, and the area started to redden as well. Quite noticeably, if you might add.

You weren’t sure if you were mad about it or not.

With one final look at yourself in the mirror to fix your hair and make sure your make-up had, in fact, not smudged, you finally took your clutch from where you’d placed it on your dresser hours ago. 

“I’ll see you later, then”, was the last thing you told Chris before you left your room, trying to ignore the odd–and completely out of place–empty feeling that started to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Two hours into the event were enough to remind you why you usually didn’t attend these things. Yes, you’d managed to make yourself known to some important people, you’d done exactly what you came here to do, but you were starting to wonder if it had been worth the hassle at all.

Your lower back was screaming at you, your feet ached, and suddenly sitting at the bar and drinking a few cocktails sounded like the only possible thing that could keep you from ripping your jewellery and heels off of your body. The music blaring through the speakers didn’t help one bit, it seemed like happy hour had started, and people were going absolutely crazy on the dancefloor.

Good for them.

Not good for your overstimulated senses, though. 

You hoped that at the very least, the next time you applied for a higher position, you wouldn’t have to go through so many hoops to get it. You were good at your job, better than some of the people in power in this company, but ultimately, knowing someone important would always give you the upper hand.

It was detrimental to your financial independence. More money meant less time paying that debt that seemed to always be looming over your head. If only your mother hadn’t done what she did, maybe you wouldn’t have to be working here at all…

“Can I offer you a drink, pretty thing?”

You felt your skin crawl at the voice resonating next to you. Turning your head, you found your sleazy co-worker deep into your personal space. He reeked of alcohol and tobacco, and you honestly hated it.

You hated him in general. He was always inappropriate, misogynistic, and condescending. Unfortunately, the man was kind of smart, as in, there was no physical proof of his unacceptable behaviour, which was exactly why Human Resources never took you seriously when you reported him.

Swaying the glass in your hand the tiniest bit, you silently let him know you already had a drink. You hoped he’d take the hint, but clearly, he didn’t. He stood over you, with that disgusting smile on his face, waiting for your answer.

“No, thank you. I’m drinking something already”, you took a sip of your drink, trying to ignore his existence altogether.

“What about a dance? Mm?” He placed his clammy hand on your bare shoulder. God, you wanted it gone immediately. “I’m sure this lovely dress you’re wearing would look great on the dancefloor”.

You were two seconds away from throwing your drink at him. For a brief moment, you debated on doing it. On one hand, you’d give him a very assertive message, maybe it would stop him from making advances at you altogether. But, on the other hand, that’d cause a scene, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that kind of attention. It could jeopardise the good impressions you’d made tonight…

“Ah, there you are. Everything alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widened in shock, and your head snapped in the direction of the familiar voice. The shock wasn’t only due to his presence, it wouldn’t have been the first time that Chris randomly popped up around you when you were out and about, but, usually, he appeared only for you to see. 

Looking at him right now, it was clear that this wasn’t one of those cases. 

His hand found the small of your back, the gentle warmth emanating from his palm was a complete contrast to the stuffy feeling of your co-worker’s hand on your shoulder. Even if Chris looked different, there was no denying who he was, there was just no doubt in your mind. You could feel the familiar feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you stared at him, even when he looked this… normal.

There were no horns on his head, and his hair had been straightened. There was no tail dragging behind him, and, most shockingly, there was no darkness in his eyes, they were just… brown. Regular brown eyes, like any other man could have.

But… Chris wasn’t any other man.

“Who the hell are you?” After giving Chris a once over, and after noticing the undeniable proximity he had to you, your co-worker removed his hand from your body, but not without letting his fingertips graze your skin as he did.

The motion was repulsive, like the rest of him was. It had you almost gagging, but you tried your best to contain yourself, you didn’t particularly feel like displaying any emotion that could be used against you. Because, even if he was the harasser, you knew he was more than capable of turning any blame on you.

Chris offered the man a friendly smile, one that, quite honestly, didn’t really reach his eyes. “Oh, I’m just the plus one”, he gestured to you with his head, moving his hand from the small of your back to instead wrap his arm around your waist.

You’d learnt with time that Chris was a very… territorial creature. You supposed it made sense that he’d consider you part of said territory, all things considered.

“I–I didn’t know you had a boyfriend”, your co-worker looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, it almost felt like he was reprimanding you, like he was implying you had somehow cheated on him for having a ‘boyfriend’.

Chris wasn’t your boyfriend, though. He was… He definitely was… Well, he was someone in your life, that much was certain.

Before you could even speak, Chris had opened his mouth. “We like to keep things private, and between friends only”.

Your co-worker just scoffed, mumbling something to himself. Chris took the opportunity to speak again. “Fancy a drink? What do you like? Vodka? Whiskey?”

The man was clearly taken aback, but he answered anyway. “Rum”.

“Rum it is, then”, Chris signalled the bartender and asked for two glasses of rum, all without removing his arm from your body. If anything, he seemed to be getting even closer to you.

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. What an absurd exchange this all was… You’d never been too fond of overprotective men getting into your business, but, you’d have to admit… It felt a bit different when that overprotection came from someone like Chris.

They both started talking about nonsensical things. Topics you weren’t really interested in. You honestly preferred for it to be this way, you’d come to the bar to try and enjoy some peace, after all. At least, the music had started to lower in volume, and the songs being played seemed to be getting slower and calmer as the minutes went by.

When the bartender came back with Chris’ order, the demon finally let go of your waist so he could take both glasses in his hands. You blinked a bit as you watched him give one of the glasses to your co-worker. For a moment, you could’ve sworn the liquid had turnt much darker than the one in Chris’ glass.

You didn’t have enough time to focus on it too much, though. Your co-worker downed the rum in one ungracious gulp, making you scrunch your nose in distaste. 

Chris gave you a small smile before he returned his eyes to the man in front of you both, taking a single sip of his drink. His eyes were different than usual, but you could see mischief dancing in them.

For a moment, you wished his attention was on you again, instead of that idiot stumbling in front of you.

After a few more words that you didn’t quite hear, your co-worker finally said his goodbyes.

Good fucking riddance… 

The friendly mask crumbled off of Chris’ face as soon as the man started to walk away. He stared daggers at his back until he got lost in the sea of people. You supposed you shared the sentiment, but that didn’t really make any of this make one bit of sense.

“Done showing your feathers, you all-mighty peacock?” You couldn’t help but say before you brought your glass to your lips to take a sip.

Chris’ eyes returned to yours, chuckling as he brought his hand to your shoulder, to place it right where your co-worker had earlier. Your body’s reaction was completely different this time around, though. A shiver threatened to rush up your spine, but not out of disgust. Quite the opposite, actually.

“What? You know very well this doesn’t even come close to me showing my feathers”, Chris’ fingers found your ear, he caressed your earlobe with his thumb and index finger, further agitating the flying critters in your belly. “Besides, that would imply I felt threatened by that guy. If anything, his vibe just pissed me off”. 

“Fair enough”, you shrugged, drinking what was left of your cocktail before you settled the glass on the bar. “Now, enlighten me, please. Why the hell are you here?”

Chris looked at you for a few seconds, before a smile spread on his lips. “Dance with me and I’ll tell you”.

Your eyes went wide in surprise. It seemed like that was Chris’ mission tonight, to completely surprise you. 

The music had finally settled to slower rhythms, you glanced at the dancefloor, only to find couples dancing to the intimate tunes. It was nowhere near as packed as it’d been before you came to the bar, but there were still enough people that you would blend in just fine, so you figured there was no harm in humouring him. “Fine. Let’s dance, then”.

Chris offered his hand to you, which you accepted. He guided you to the dancefloor, leaving his barely touched glass of rum completely forgotten on the wooden surface of the bar.

Your feet were still aching, but you felt fine enough to handle a couple of dances. Deep down, you genuinely just wanted to enjoy this one in a million opportunity. This wasn’t something you did often. When would you ever get the chance again to dance with someone you were so intimately connected to?

As soon as you made it to the dancefloor, Chris placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you flush against his body. You just followed his movement, moulding yourself to his body, holding onto his shoulder and his hand as if they would be the only thing to keep you swaying your hips to the gentle music.

He was always so goddamn warm… His presence enticed you, just like it always did. Even with this… odd look of his, you could still feel the effect his energy had on you.

“You look so weird”, you mumbled in his ear as you continued to follow the music. Chris chuckled softly, lowering his hand the tiniest bit on your lower back. “Don’t get me wrong, you still look handsome. But… ‘suppose I’ve gotten used to seeing your true form”.

“You think I look handsome in my true form?” There was a teasing lilt in his words, and, somehow, it amused you.

“‘Course I do. Wouldn’t let you fuck me if it weren’t the case”.

You felt Chris’ sharp intake of breath next to your ear, and his hands tightened their hold around you. “Don’t make me think about fucking you, pretty. I might end up taking you right here if you do”.

You scoffed a bit, with no real malicious intent in the gesture. “Be honest with me, do you need me to bring attention to it for you to think about fucking me?”

“Ah, you caught me”, Chris chuckled softly. As you danced, he pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek, right before he mumbled, “Maybe I think about you a little too much”.

Those simple words immediately kick-started your heartbeat. How foolish of you to let his words affect you like this… Chris was a demon. The demon you’d summoned in a moment of weakness. He was just that, nothing more. “Is that so?”

“Mm…” Chris’ hum vibrated against your cheek, it almost felt like it was penetrating into your skin and rattling your insides. 

There was barely any space between your bodies, you occasionally looked around you to make sure no one was paying too much attention to you, but for the most part the only thing you could truly focus on was the melody floating in the air, and Chris’ presence all over you. 

“Why do you think I keep coming back for more?”

That had you inhaling a shaky breath.

This was nothing.

It meant nothing at all.

It was just Chris playing into your deepest desires, giving you what you needed, what you’d asked for from him. You were well aware of that, but… sometimes, you kind of wanted to believe there was truly more to it.

“Is that why you’re here tonight, then?” Your lips ghosted over his skin when you asked the question, just because you had wanted them to. You wanted to feel his smooth, heated skin, and if you couldn’t have your hands on his bare body because of his perfectly tailored deep blue, almost black suit, you might as well make do with his cheek.

“Pretty much. I was already up here, so I decided to stick around”, you were sure Chris was close to straight up placing his hand on your bum with how he kept moving it a bit further down as time passed, but, at this point, you didn’t care about stopping him at all. “As creepy as it might sound, on the days that I can, I find myself around you quite often. I just never make my presence known”.

You pulled yourself away from him a bit so you could look him in the eyes, completely perplexed. 

Chris chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t worry, pet. I only do it in public places. I don’t follow you to private spaces, and if you’re at home, I just show myself”.

“As if that makes it any better, creep”, with a smirk on your face, you scoffed, tightening your hold on his shoulder as he kept guiding you in your dance.

Chris didn’t have any remark to bite back, he just smiled at you, in that way that turned his eyes into little crescents. Cute…

As you looked at him, in his tailored suit, wearing that small flower brooch which suspiciously matched the colour of your dress, with that slit in his eyebrow and his brown, very human-looking eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like you were missing something. Like there was a little gremlin in the back of your mind trying to hand you a piece of information, but it couldn’t quite find it.

“This look of yours… You look familiar”, your eyes jumped all over his face, taking in his features.

His very handsome features…

Chris blinked a bit in silence before he replied to you. “‘Course I do. I’m… well, me”.

“You do. But, y’know… That’s not what I mean”.

Chris just shrugged. “I just look like every other guy out there, probably”.

Every other guy just wouldn’t look this… this good. Besides, he did look like himself somehow, just without his demonic traits. Same face structure, same body built, but even then, there was something in his eyes that felt… oddly familiar.

You didn’t say anything else, just hummed to acknowledge him before you leaned into him to rest your cheek on his shoulder as you continued to dance.

You spent a handful of songs more on the dancefloor, until you just couldn’t ignore the many different parts of your body that were bothering you. After a simple ‘Chris… My feet hurt…’ your unexpected companion for the night took you to the closest surface you could sit on. 

Twenty minutes later, and after saying your final goodbyes to your bosses and any other relevant person you’d interacted with that night, you were in the back of an uber. With none other than Chris himself, as if he even needed a car to get places.

“Haven’t been inside one of these in decades…” Chris mumbled in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear.

You hummed to let him know you’d heard him, but it was hard to tell him anything when one of his hands had found its way into the slit of your dress, and he’d boldly placed it on your bare thigh. The way his lips pressed slow, gentle kisses on your neck, certainly didn’t make it any better.

Oh, how easy it was for him to rile you up… Sometimes he didn’t even need to do anything. A simple kiss on your pulse-point was all it took for heat to gather in the pit of your stomach.

You could tell he had no intention of dragging his hand further up your thigh than it was necessary. He simply caressed your skin up to a certain point on your inner thigh, and then squeezed a bit on his way down, again and again…

The sound of taps brought your eyes away from the sight of Chris’ hand to instead look right in front of you, where the driver was tapping a plastic board hanging from her seat. ‘No sexual activities on the backseat. The driver of this car reserves the right to deny service’.

“Oh, don’t worry, ma’am”, you tried your best to steady your voice as Chris kept kissing your neck and your shoulder, completely unbothered. “He just gets a little clingy and handsy after drinking, but he’s mostly harmless”.

A lie, but a lie you had to say to this woman. Because how else could you explain any of Chris’ habits to this stranger you would probably never see again?

The woman in front of the wheel sighed, tiredly. “Men, am I right?”

“Damn right…” You replied simply, returning your attention to Chris’ hand that seemed to be groping you with a bit more force now, but still not reaching any indecent territory.

Mostly harmless, hm? Is that so, baby?

Oh, no…

Dealing with his touch was one thing, but dealing with his touch while he spoke right into your thoughts required a completely different level of self-restraint.

With a deep breath, you crossed one leg over the other, not only trapping his hand between your thighs in hopes of hindering his movements, but also trying to get some relief from the ache that had been steadily building between your legs.

Chris’ hold on your thigh tightened all of a sudden, almost, almost making you squeal out loud. You should be given a fucking prize for how well you kept that sound inside of you.

Mmm… Wanna keep my hand stuck right here? I don’t want it to, though. If only it could be my head clamped between your thighs right now instead… Wouldn’t you like that, little human?

You closed your eyes as you felt Chris’ lips press a kiss behind your ear. With a deep breath, and a tight hold on the seat’s edge, you tried your best to keep yourself aware of your surroundings. If you gave into temptation, you just knew you wouldn’t want to be taken out of the headspace Chris would pull you into.

This was going to be a long, long ride home…

Walking into your building, hand in hand with Chris, with a human-looking Chris, was certainly not something you could say you did every day. 

What was even more unusual, was being inside the dingy, crammed lift of your way-too-old building, grabbing a fistfull of Chris’ dark hair as his lips and his tongue danced slowly against yours.

It was all so, so weird… not only the feeling of a totally normal tongue that you weren’t used to. It didn’t feel bad or wrong in any way, but it almost felt like… like you were coming home with someone after a date.

Whatever it was that happened tonight, certainly wasn’t a date. It was nowhere near close to being a date… You needed to remind yourself that Chris was not someone you’d gone on a date with. But, honestly, it was a bit hard to convince your brain of that when he held you so close by the waist, when his lips moulded so perfectly against yours that you barely heard the lift reach your floor.

Before you knew it, Chris had scooped you in his arms. You couldn’t help but yelp in surprise as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. “What’s this for?”

Chris shrugged, stepping out of the lift and walking down the corridor towards your door. “You said your feet hurt”.

You didn’t say anything, just stared at his side profile until he finally reached the door to your home. Only then did he turn to look at you, almost blinding you with the smile on his lips.

Chris… he was just way too handsome, something as simple as a smile, regardless of how he looked, was enough to have your cheeks heating up.

How silly of you…

But even more silly, was how you leaned in to press a soft kiss on his cheek, mumbling a quiet ‘Thank you’ before he finally placed you on your feet so you could open the door.

The moment your feet touched the ground you were reminded of just how much they hurt. Curse this pretty, but uncomfortable footwear…

Regardless, once you’d wiped your heels on your doormat enough times to not feel guilty about stepping into your home with shoes on–because there was just no way you could undo all these straps standing right outside your door–you simply got your keys, unlocked the front door and walked into your flat, with Chris following soon after.

When he stepped out of his shoes, they just dissolved into a dark mist, and as he took his suit jacket off, this one did, too. The motion left him shirtless, because why would he wear a shirt under his suit, when he could spend the entire night with a good chunk of his chest exposed, right?

“I’m gonna just… take my make-up off and have a quick shower”, you turned away from him and started making your way to the bathroom.

“Oh, let me help you”.

You looked back at him again, with one of your eyebrows arched on your face, questioningly. Chris just brought his hands up, giving you one of his signature wolfish grins that made your heart flutter a bit in your chest.

“Got no ulterior motives. Promise”.

He sounded genuine, like he honestly wasn’t trying to just get into your knickers. So, after a moment of consideration, you hummed in agreement, resuming your walk.

“Did you get what I suggested last time?” He asked once you were both within the echoey walls of your bathroom.

“I did. It’s already inside the shower”.

After your last… encounter, Chris had insisted you got a shower stool. ‘I can’t keep cleaning you up on the toilet like a savage! Get one of those shower stools, it’ll be easier for both of us…’ so you did. You’d admit you’d already used it, people truly disregarded how much easier it was to take a shower after a long day when you could just sit down to do it. 

Chris’ hands found your hips, and he gently caressed the swell of them as you stood in front of him. “Good. Turn around”.

You did as asked, and, slowly, he started to unzip your dress. As he did, he walked further into your personal space, not fully pressing his body to yours, but enough that his body heat enveloped you.

You could feel his lips ghost the skin of the nape of your neck before he placed a lingering kiss on it. The gesture made you swallow, it made you feel tingly all over, enough that you kind of wanted to ignore how sore you already were from the long night. You could surely survive a round…

“I’m… I’m gonna remove the glamour”, Chris mumbled against your skin, just as he finished unzipping your dress, and brought his hands to your shoulders, sliding them right under the straps. “Just giving you a heads-up”.

“Why? You think I’ll get scared?” you chuckled, just as your dress fell to the floor, leaving you in just your heels and your underwear. You carefully stepped out of it, and kicked it somewhere far from the shower’s entrance.

“Dunno… You’d been seeing me as just a regular guy for a couple of hours”, Chris expertly undid the clasps of your bra. He removed it carefully before you heard the unmistakable thud of it landing on top of fabric–on top of your dress, you presumed. “It could be kinda jarring to suddenly see me with… well, my add-ons”.

You chuckled again, bringing your hands to your breasts to gently fondle them, trying to ease some of that uncomfortable feeling that lingered after having worn a bra for too many hours.

As if his demon form could do anything other than arouse you at this point… These days, just the sight of him made you salivate like a dog; it was practically a pavlovian response at this point. 

You remained facing away from him as he slid your panties down your legs. He, obviously, didn’t waste the opportunity to place some kisses on your buttocks on his way down, a motion that was steadily turning your brain into putty.

However, he truly didn’t seem to have any… sinful intentions. Chris just asked you to lift your feet so he could take your underwear and throw it on the pile of clothes that had gathered by the entrance of the room. 

When his hands were on your waist, you finally turned to face him. 

There they were again… those eyes of his that were seemingly endless, dark and void like the night’s sky. His tail calmly swayed behind him, mindlessly dragging on the tiled floor, and his horns… You honestly felt like they just complemented his features so well.

Maybe you were just a sinful little human like he always told you…

Chris stood there, just looking at you, holding your waist while you took him in. The suit trousers were gone, he was dressed only in the silky slacks he usually wore, with his chest still on full display for your ogling eyes.

You brought your hands to his arms, feeling his skin under your fingertips as you dragged them all the way to his shoulders, where they stopped briefly before you brought them to his chest.

For a moment, you could’ve sworn his skin was getting redder wherever you touched him, but you figured it might’ve been the lighting in your bathroom.

You removed your hands from his chest only to cup his cheeks. You used them to move his head all sorts of ways. Left, right, up, down… admiring every single one of his features from every angle you could think of. He let you, of course. He always did. Chris often let you play around with his body however you wanted, and if you ever did something he didn’t like, he’d just stop you and tell you. That was part of your agreement, after all…

When you finally straightened his head so you could look directly into his eyes, you started stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “See? Not scared”.

Chris grinned at you. He bent his knees and interlocked his arms under your backside to lift you off the ground before he started walking. “Not very smart of you, is it?”

The shower door opened on its own, and Chris stepped inside with you in his arms, just so he could place you on the shower stool you’d gotten upon his request.

“You wouldn’t hurt me”, you said matter-of-factly, and, as the words left your mouth, you realised you genuinely believed them.

Chris laughed at that, reaching for the showerhead to get it off of its holder before he knelt in front of you. “Are you sure about that, pet?”

He placed the showerhead on the floor, then started undoing the straps of your heels, very, very slowly…

“If you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done so when I let you shove your monstrous cock up my ass”, you watched as he finally removed one of your heels, and dropped it in the air for it to float out of the shower before he started undoing the other one.

“Just like I told you earlier, don’t make me think about my cock up your ass, pretty human. Not unless you want me to do it right here, right now”, he replied simply before he instructed you to take off all your jewellery while he worked your remaining heel off of you. 

You took everything off as requested. As soon as you were finished, Chris had already taken your heel and your toe ring off. He opened his palm for you to place all your accessories in, and, once you did, he just dropped them in the air for them to float out of the shower as well. 

Once he’d taken the showerhead in his hand, the tap opened on its own, it seemed to be moving behind you to adjust the temperature, while Chris let the water run over his free hand. When he’d clearly deemed it to be the right temperature, he took a hold of one of your heels and started wetting your feet. 

You couldn’t help but close your eyes and hum as soon as the water touched your skin. The warm temperature was highly appreciated, it was certainly helping ease the dull ache that you’d been feeling after standing in those stupid heels for so many hours.

Chris repeated the motions with your other foot, until your skin was wet enough to his standards, you supposed. The water flow stopped when the tap closed behind you. Your shower-gel floated from the shower caddy to his hand, so he simply uncapped it and squeezed some of the contents in his palms.

He lathered the gel between his hands a bit before he brought them to one of your feet. With gentle motions, Chris massaged your foot, working the suds on your skin.

You really, really appreciated it. It seemed to be further easing the pain, but, as you looked at him, you just couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Have you got a thing for feet?”

Chris bursted out laughing as soon as the words left your mouth, and he looked up at your face without stopping the motions of his hands. “Not particularly. You don’t think I would’ve done something about that already if I did, darling?”

You smiled at him, shrugging. “Dunno. You seem to be pretty focused on them tonight”.

Chris shook his head a bit before he returned his attention to your feet, gently placing the one in his hands on the floor before he took the other to repeat the motions. “You’ve been wearing open shoes all night, sweetheart. I’m just making sure you’re cleaned up thoroughly”.

You supposed you couldn’t argue with that. After all, you had stepped in quite the number of sticky puddles at the event, so this was probably a good idea.

As he finished up lathering your feet, and even a bit further up your legs, you were suddenly curious about something, so you asked, “Do you do this to the other people that are summoning you?”

You’d never really asked Chris about this… You’d think about it sometimes, though. How many people might be just… enjoying his company. You tried to always push the question to the deepest recesses of your mind, since it always made an uncomfortable feeling settle in the pit of your stomach. 

Which was a bit dumb on your part.

Chris wasn’t yours, that much you knew. You didn’t think he could even be yours in the first place. He was, after all, a demon.

Would you even want that? What would you even do with a demon? Other than fucking, that was.

It was a thought you honestly didn’t want to entertain. You didn’t think you had the right mind to even think about that possibility right now.

He was quiet for a moment, mindlessly massaging your calves. With a deep breath, Chris shrugged, right before he reached for the showerhead. “I only let myself be summoned by one person at a time. Last time I was summoned, I might have. But there weren’t showerheads like these back then, so it wasn’t this easy”.

Your jaw went slack. Back then, he said? Back then?!

“When was the last time someone summoned you before I did?” You just couldn’t keep the surprise from your voice, it was noticeable enough that it made Chris look up at you, while he blindly rinsed your lower legs.

“Dunno, maybe a handful of centuries ago?” He replied simply, like it was nothing.

“Centuries?!”

“That’s what I said, darling. Yes”, he chuckled, just as he stood up. “I’m gonna get you all wet alright?”

He was clearly amused by what he said, like a young boy would be after telling a dirty joke. You barely had any time to react before he was pointing the showerhead at your face, making you squeal in surprise and snapping you out of your stupor.

“Chris!” You tried to cover your face with one hand while blindly reaching for his hand.

“What?” He was… he was giggling. It wasn’t the first time you heard him giggle, but he didn’t do it as often, and, being honest, it was contagious.

“Oh, stop it! Gimme–gimme the showerhead!” You were now giggling yourself. Had it been anyone else, you might’ve been annoyed, but with Chris, you were just… amused.

Maybe you were more tired than you thought.

“Nuh-uh!”

There was a bit of back and forth, until you abruptly stood up from the stool and managed to get the showerhead from his hand. You turned it against him, making him gasp as he got drenched.

“My slacks!”

“Now you care about your slacks? They were already wet when you were touching my feet like a weirdo”, you were just teasing him, of course. You were sure the smirk on your face was enough for him to know.

For a brief moment, you saw his slacks evaporate into dark mist like the rest of his clothes had done earlier. Just for a brief moment, because almost immediately after, the showerhead disappeared from your hand and your chest was pressed to the cold tiles of your shower’s walls, so suddenly it made you gasp. 

You felt the loud smack on your buttock before you heard it. The sound bounced off of the walls, joining the unexpected moan that came out of your mouth. 

“Behave, gorgeous. Hm?” Chris was still chuckling, holding your buttock tightly in one hand, while he held the showerhead in the other, pointing the water flow at your lower back.

You turned your head to look at him, as much as you could without fully turning your body. “You started it”.

“Mm… Fair enough”, Chris pressed a brief kiss on your shoulder, before he pulled himself away from your space–as much as he could within the space of your shower. “Sit back down. We’re not finished”.

You turned around and offered him a smile before you leaned in. After pressing a quick kiss on his cheek, you brought your lips close to his ear. “Yes, sir”.

Before he could retaliate, you simply did as asked, and sat down on your stool, batting your lashes at him in feigned innocence. Chris just scoffed, and knelt in front of you once again. Right then, your make-up remover balm and gel floated inside the shower, and right into your lap. 

“Do your pretty face, I’ll take care of the rest, yeah?”

You hummed, opening the balm’s container and gathering the needed amount so you could start your skin care routine. It was kind of amusing to see him right now. Still kneeling, sometimes going into a crouch, fully naked, half-hard as he diligently lathered you up, but not really making any advances.

You weren’t really surprised, honestly. You’d already told him earlier in the evening that you probably wouldn’t be up for it, so unless you explicitly told him, you knew he wouldn’t make a real move

Even after the playful encounter, though, and as you kept cleansing your face, Chris’ words still lingered in your mind. A handful of centuries ago, he’d said… 

Demons didn’t mix with other demons, not sexually, at least. That was something Chris told you once in passing. If that was true, and he hadn’t been summoned by a human in centuries, Would that mean you were the first person he’d laid with in centuries?

That was, if he hadn’t found himself entangled with a different being altogether… There was a small part of you that doubted that was the case, though. Or, more accurately, that wished that was the case.

But why? Why would that small part of you wish for that? It was foolish on your part, for sure…

Chris wasn’t yours. You had to constantly remind yourself of that fact. He couldn��t be. You couldn’t mix… like that.

When you were finally fully cleaned up and refreshed, Chris helped you towel dry your hair and the rest of your body. It was way past midnight, and the long evening was certainly catching up to you.

After he brushed your hair and you got into your fluffiest pyjamas, you were finally tucked into bed. Chris simply laid down next to you on top of the covers, propping his head on his hand as he looked at you.

His hair was slightly damp still, but steadily drying in a messy pattern of curls that seemed to be further swallowing the base of his horns.

“You look better with curly hair”, you mindlessly mumbled, with your eyes barely open.

Chris smiled at you. “You didn’t like my straightened hair earlier? I thought it’d be a nice change”. 

You hummed, shaking your head slightly from side to side. “T’was fine. I just like your curly hair so much more”.

“I’ll keep it in mind”, scooting closer to you, he draped an arm over your waist to pull you to him.

“You do as you prefer, though”.

“I don’t have a preference”, Chris mumbled, just before he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

The lamp on your bedside table switched off, and your eyes finally closed fully. Chris seemed to snuggle even closer, lifting your head a bit so he could bring an arm under your head to curl it around your shoulders.

“Thank you for your company tonight”, you whispered the words against the skin of his neck, where you had buried your face as soon as he’d pulled you close.

“It was my pleasure, pretty thing”, Chris’ other hand slowly caressed your back, further relaxing every muscle of your body. “Thank you for letting me keep you company”.

You hummed, pressing a brief kiss on his neck. “M’sorry if we didn’t… Y’know…”

Chris chuckled softly at that, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he sounded incredulous. “That’s nothing to be sorry for”.

Silence stretched for a few moments, all you could hear was his steady breathing, faint voices from the party happening in the house in front of your building, and the odd car passing. You could practically feel your body fully relax, being lulled to sleep by Chris’ warmth.

Just before you fell asleep, you vaguely heard Chris mumble against your hair.

“With a bit of luck, I’ll be back in a couple of nights…”

Attending that company event all those weeks ago certainly worked in your favour. You’d had an interview a couple of days ago, and the odds were certainly promising. Nothing was certain yet, though. You never believed anything told to you at work unless it was written down on an email, but you held some hope.

Unfortunately, you’d also had a nasty encounter with the debt collectors… You’d managed to pay them part of the money your mother had owed them, but they were trying to increase interests. You still weren’t sure how you managed to leave that place without being shot, considering the nasty words you spat at them.

They did increase the interest, but to a much lower percentage than the one originally proposed, which you supposed was… not good, but also not bad.

The events of the week had caught up to you, which was why you were grateful that it was Friday night, that you were lying comfortably on your bed, and that you had your favourite demon’s head between your legs.

Chris always provided much needed relief. You didn’t want to think about the corporate world or what your mother had done to get you so deep in this mess… Sometimes, it was almost like he knew you’d been needing exactly this, to be so lost in your pleasure that you were numb, that you couldn’t even remember what had you so wound up in the first place.

It kind of made sense, since that had been your original arrangement… It was exactly the reason why you’d sought him out in the first place, or part of it, at least.

Something seemed different lately, though. 

The other night, after the company event, it’d been the first time Chris had just… stayed with you without engaging in any sexual activity, which puzzled you. Not only that, but, after that night, that started happening more frequently.

It wasn’t like you were mad about it. You realised you didn’t need to have sex with him to get that feeling of relief after meeting with him, which was fine. Maybe more than fine. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder why he wouldn’t make a move sometimes.

You’d been meaning to ask him about it, but you hadn’t really built the courage to do it. You weren’t even sure why you needed to hype yourself up to do it in the first place.

Tonight, though, you didn’t want to think about that.

You doubted you could even think about anything at all when Chris had you just… like this.

His tongue diligently worked you up, the two halves of the appendage danced around your clit so deliciously you could barely keep your eyes open, and the texture of it further enhanced those jolts of pleasure running up and down your spine. Chris’ name would occasionally escape from between your lips as a breathless whisper, and you could practically see him rut into the bed as it did.

Bringing both of your hands to his head, you took a hold of each horn with a firm grip. Chris’ eyebrows furrowed, he moaned, positively heating you up further. You saw his eyes close when you started to gently stroke the base of his horns, softly dragging your fingertips from where they started protruding from his head, before your attention shifted and you caught a couple of his dark strands between your fingers.

His tail thrashed, swishing from side to side before it shot to your ankle. It wrapped around your limb, slowly climbing up a bit before it tightened its hold, and he used it to move your leg further towards your chest. You weren’t really sure who was being louder right now, his grunts and moans sent vibrations through you, his quickening tongue had you trembling with need, and you were so, so ready to finally get your relief…

Chris’ tongue moved further down, licking at your entrance briefly before it found its way to your ass. You couldn’t help but mewl under his motions, fully aroused by the feel of that wet muscle on your sensitive skin, of his nose catching at your entrance. His own noises of pleasure fueled you, it made you believe that Chris enjoyed being right here as much as you did. 

“Chris… I’m… I’m so close–” Your sentence cut short when he returned his tongue to your cunt, when he pushed his forked tongue within your walls and his nose started to nudge your sensitive nub. 

With his arms under your thighs, his hands on your hips, gripping you tightly, Chris kept you pressed to the bed, preventing you from pulling away from him. The grip of his tail on your lower leg tightened, your grip on his horns tightened as well. He was fully submerged in you and that heaven between your legs, and, before you could even let him know, you were trembling with the strength of your release.

It didn’t matter how much you writhed and whined, he just interlocked his fingers over your tummy and kept you right where he wanted, making your mind go numb under the motions of his lips and his forked tongue.

Stars…

All you could see were stars.

Stars and feathers and soft gentle light…

As you came down from your high, Chris finally relented a bit. He pressed the flat of his tongue against your clit, giving you slow, gentle licks that helped prolong your pleasure. He was so good to you, better than you could’ve ever expected. He always knew what to do, how to make you feel good, and every time you laid on your bed with him like this, you were reminded of that fact.

You finally let go of his horns, and started tracing the elegant curve of one of them with your fingertips. Your other hand remained mindlessly playing with his curls, almost tenderly, and Chris just hummed, sounding just immensely satisfied.

He finally removed himself from your centre, but he stayed right there, with his hands still holding you down as he left kisses on your inner thighs. As he did, you couldn’t help but stare at his back from where you were still somewhat propped on your pillows.

You were barely capable of focusing your tired eyes on it, but you honestly couldn’t help but feel curious again. You always did whenever you looked at him, whenever you saw the scarred tissue running parallel to his spine. ‘It happened a few millennia ago. They were left behind after my wings were ripped off of my body’, he’d told you once, but he didn’t elaborate further. If anything, he’d avoided the topic altogether after that.

He had finally stopped licking at your core, which you appreciated. Right now wasn’t a moment for overstimulation, and he seemed to have caught up on that very quickly. As he pressed kisses on your inner thighs, you couldn’t help but bring your foot to his back, barely applying pressure with the ball of it on one of his scars.

Chris’ whole body jolted, his lips immediately detached from your skin with a gasp, and, in the blink of an eye, he was on top of you. With both hands pressed to the mattress at either side of your head, he looked down at you.

You swallowed, suddenly transfixed by the darkness in his eyes. 

“Does it… Does it hurt?” Your voice was barely a whisper, gentle, and, even to your ears, it sounded like you cared. You supposed you did. It was hard not to care when your protective walls were down, when you’d bared yourself to this demon above you so many times, in more ways than one.

Chris shook his head, licking his lips. “Doesn’t really hurt anymore. It’s just… this tingly feeling…”

He readjusted his position, so he could properly kneel between your legs. His tail had loosened its grip, it ran gently up and down your calf in tandem with the tip of his cock on your folds. You held your breath in anticipation, bringing one of your hands to hold one of his wrists, and the other to cup his cheek.

Taking a deep breath, Chris closed his eyes, keeping the slow, teasing motions of his length between your legs. He turned his head the tiniest bit, and placed small pecks of his lips on the palm of your hand.

He was, truly, the oddest demon you’d ever met.

Not like you’d met any demon other than Chris, but he just didn’t fit the idea you had of someone like him.

With his lips still pressed to your palm, with his eyes still closed, he finally plunged himself right into you. You couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Even if it wasn’t the first time he’d been inside you tonight, the suddenness of it all caught you off guard.

Only when he was fully sheathed within your warmth did he open his eyes. They were dark, endless pools of black like they’d always been, lustful, sinful, but… there was something else there. Something that made you shiver under his heavy gaze.

“F–Fuck…” You swore under your breath, dizzy with the feel of the ridges and bumps of his monstrous cock stimulating your walls. “So big…”

Chris chuckled, lowering himself to his elbows so he could briefly claim your mouth in a sensual kiss. 

“That’s what you’d asked for, no? A big monster cock to fuck you stupid”, he mumbled the words against your lips, just as he started to move, slowly, almost teasingly rocking his hips. In and out, in and out… “That’s why I’m here. Isn’t it, pet?”

You whined, closing your eyes and further pushing your head against the pillow. You could feel your mind turning hazy once again, lost in the feel of Chris in you, on you, all over you…

“Isn’t it?” Chris repeated his question, a bit lower this time, barely even audible over the squelching sounds that started to resonate in your room.

Was that the only reason? A big monster cock?

You’d convinced yourself that had been exactly it, but now, you weren’t so sure.

Your body had a tendency to act on its own around Chris, to do things without receiving the proper, logical signal from your brain, which was probably why you found yourself shaking your head before you could stop it. He didn’t say anything about it, though. He just kissed you. Kissed you like he needed you to keep breathing.

His hips sped up, his weight fell further on you, his firm chest rubbed against yours with how close you were. You wrapped your limbs around him, heels interlocked around his torso and your hands palm flat on his back to keep him in place. You needed him closer, as close as he could be. You wanted him to crawl inside your skin, to become one single soul. 

Although, you supposed his lack of one made it a bit difficult.

That was alright…

Yours could be plenty for both.

You could feel the tip of his tail dragging up and down the back of your thigh, enticing you, provoking you. Chris was grunting in your kiss, pushing his tongue against yours, tugging your lips with his teeth, and you figured this was as close as you could be.

That was fine.

At least, for now.

Your hands found the scarred skin of his back, and you gently traced the outline of it with your fingertips. Chris seemed to have started trembling under your tender motions, his lips disconnected from yours, and his heavy breaths filled your senses when he rested his forehead on yours.

“Do you… Do you regret it?” You asked between broken moans, tightening your legs further around him.

Chris shook his head, and he started to thrust harder into you, further pulling desperate sounds out of your mouth. “Would do it all over again…”

You shivered as soon as the words left his mouth, your walls clenched hard around his length, and Chris swore under his breath. 

Dragging your hands down his back, they found the base of his tail, and it stiffened up into the air as soon as you touched it. Chris whined, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, being mindful to keep his horns out of the way.

You were barely coherent under his quickening motions, unable to produce any sound that wasn’t his name or those that manifested your pleasure. Leaving one hand at the thick base of his tail, stroking the area, you brought your other hand to one of his horns, gently caressing the keratin. Chris’ hips stuttered, his previously controlled thrusts turned into an uncoordinated tempo, and his desperate moans and pleas of your name became more frequent. 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, if you–if you keep doing that, I’m gonna–gonna come…” Chris mumbled, but despite his words, his hips didn’t stop. 

With your mouth next to his ear, making sure he could hear every single moan, every single sigh coming out of your mouth, you whispered. “…Good”.

His pace was brutal, erratic, his cock brushed all those incredibly sensitive areas within you, just like you needed it to, and when his tail found its way between your bodies for the tapered tip to stimulate your clit, your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head.

For you, my love… I’d do it all over again…

Chris’ thoughts slipped into yours, just as a broken whimper escaped his throat and he finally let himself go within your walls.

You weren’t sure if it’d been the motions of his tail, or the feeling of his cock repeatedly splitting you open, or the words he’d poured into your mind, but before you knew it, blinding hot pleasure overtook every single one of your senses. Was there anything else in this world that wasn’t Chris and his tail and his horns and his cum inside you?

At this very moment, you really couldn’t come up with anything off the top of your head, you could barely form a single coherent thought.

A few breaths passed, just before Chris’ lips found yours. He pressed pecks on your lips, and your hands simply buried in his hair to keep him close as you left kisses of your own on his lips. Tired kisses, yes. But kisses nonetheless.

Kisses that just seemed to perfectly finish your seemingly never-ending night of nothing but warmth and intimacy.

When he pulled away, he started pressing slow pecks on your cheeks, finishing off with a final, lingering one on your forehead before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you.

There was a moment where all that could be heard were heavy breaths, and the swish of Chris’ tail on your bed sheets. You were basking in that post-orgasmic bliss, enjoying the satisfying aches of your body.

You felt light, but full. 

Full of Chris.

Both physically and spiritually.

There was a small smile on your lips as you enjoyed those last blissful moments…

But then your eyebrows furrowed.

Opening your eyes, you stared at the ceiling for a moment. Something was weighing heavy in your mind, like your brain was trying to tell you something that you couldn’t quite hear, or that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

Propping yourself on your elbow, you looked at Chris. His eyes were almost closed, he even looked relaxed, but as he took in the look on your face, his entire expression shifted.

He looked worried, concerned…

“What’s wrong, pet?” He propped himself on his elbow as well to get to your level, and you immediately sat down fully, ignoring the feeling of foreign fluids coming out of your body.

“What was that about… about you doing it all over again for me?”

Chris’ eyes widened. He remained silent for a few moments, but then you saw his Adam’s apple bob, and his eyes started jumping all over your face for a while. For a long, quiet while.

He wouldn’t say anything, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him this paralysed before. Chris wasn’t someone that just got paralysed. He was a demon, for crying out loud…

“Chris?”

His expression shifted once again, to one of complete neutrality. Like he’d never even shown emotion in the first place.

“It was just… Y’know, a heat of the moment thing”, he stood up from the bed, abruptly, breaking eye-contact for a moment before he tried to pull you into his arms. “Don’t look too deeply into it. C’mon, let’s go to the shower”.

You moved away from his reach a bit, which made him frown.

You didn’t buy it.

For some reason, you just didn’t buy it. Chris was an honest being, he’d always been. Sometimes you’d wondered if he’d been deceiving you for real like all those priests your mother followed would say, but you never truly felt like he was lying. And as you heard him speak just now, you realised that you’d been correct.

Because, right now, he was lying. You could just tell he was, he sounded so insincere, like not even he could believe what he was saying.

You arched an eyebrow, just looking at him, not saying anything, not moving from where you were sitting on the bed. Chris’ eyes fixed on your hand, and only then did you realise you’d been gripping the bed sheets in a tight fist.

“It’s nothing. You know I ramble a lot, it was just one of those things I say sometimes. C’mon…”

Chris did ramble a lot, and he did say a lot of things in general when you were having sex, but they were always things that made sense within the context, things he thought, things that always felt like he meant them. That, coupled with the fact that he just wouldn’t look at your face, was enough to further trigger the alarms in your brain.

“You didn’t just say it. You thought it”, you saw him swallow again, you could see and hear his tail relentlessly moving behind him, hitting the floor, your bedside table, a chair… “Chris, look me in the eyes and tell me again it was just a heat of the moment thing”.

He remained quiet, unmoving, completely frozen on the spot. There were not only alarms in your brain now, but anxiety was also quickly building within you, although you didn’t quite understand why.

“What do I have to do with the fact that someone ripped off your wings?” 

Chris finally reacted. He brought a hand to his hair, ruffled it as a tired sigh fell from his lips. “This is… It’s not… I mean, it just slipped out of my head, but it’s not like, you know…”

Now he was truly rambling, and it just irked you. “No. No, I don’t know”.

“Let me just… I need to clean you up, okay? You need to drink something, we can talk about this later–”

“No”, you said firmly, tightening your grip on the bed sheets under you. “You’re hiding something from me. You’re lying to me. You’ve never lied to me. Why? Why are you lying?”

Chris sighed, turning his back to you and walking towards your open window. He held onto the frame, but he didn’t move further.

You stared at the scars on his back. The original wound must’ve been deep, traumatic to the skin, leaving keloids behind upon healing. He had other scars, too, but none stood out quite like those two did.

You stood up from the bed on unsteady legs, and made your way to the window. The aches in your body you usually enjoyed so much were just inconvenient like this, which reminded you why Chris was the one to take you in his arms everywhere after hours of nothing but sex.

Chris let go of the window’s frame, and instead brought both hands to his head, where he gripped his hair and the base of his horns as he mumbled to himself. “Shit… I should’ve been more careful… This wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

“What wasn’t supposed to be?” You reached for his back. The moment your fingertips touched his scars he immediately whipped around to face you, looking at you with a deep frown on his face. “God, would you just say something?”

“Don’t!” Closing his eyes tightly, Chris held his head in his hands, shaking it from side to side. You took a step back at the tone of his voice. He’d been loud, louder than he’d ever spoken to you. “Don’t say Her name. This is all Her fucking fault. If She had just let me do what I wanted, we wouldn’t be like this”.

“Who’s she?” You were beyond confused, raising the tone of your voice in response to his own increase in volume.

“God!” Chris said it like it was a name. Not an expression of frustration, or confusion. It was a name. He was talking about God as if they were someone, as if she was someone. “You wanna know why I was thinking what I was thinking?! Because She took you away from me! And when I tried to get you back, She turned me into this!” He gestured to his eyes with two of his fingers, as if that made this make sense at all.

Chris didn’t seem like he was thinking, he was just talking, rambling, venting, rendering you speechless in the process.

“If She had let me just get you back we wouldn’t have to be in this endless, agonising cycle. She always let’s you fucking die, and I always have to watch! I’ve seen you die more times than I have fingers on my hands. I’ve had to wait centuries for you. Sometimes even millenniums! All on my own, because She just loves to play with us like we’re her little figurines. She just loves to see me suffer, to make you suffer, just because I wouldn’t do exactly what She wanted me to do! Do I wish She wouldn’t have taken my wings? Yes. Yes, I do! But even then, I’d do what I did again! And again, and again, and again! I couldn’t just do nothing”.

You stood there, speechless, trembling, confused out of your mind. Before you could open your mouth Chris swore, a loud, aggressive, ‘Fuck!’ that had all items on your vanity flying onto the floor. Once again, he brought his hands to his head, resting his palms on his forehead as he fell to the floor, curling in on himself as he crouched.

There was silence for a while. It was deafening, suffocating, you felt like your legs, too, were about to give out, and you barely even registered your own voice coming out of your mouth.

“What… What are you saying?”

It was barely above a whisper, but Chris looked up at you anyway. His eyes were nothing but a black void, and yet, you could see his feelings painted all over his face… Pain, despair…

When he stood up from the floor, his hands were immediately on your cheeks, so fast you barely had time to react. “You were meant to be with me forever. I promised you a forever… But not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this”.

With trembling hands, you reached for his own that cupped your face, and pulled them off of you before you started walking backwards.

“You’re not making any sense. What the hell are you talking about…?” Your ears started to ring, your head started to hurt, and your vision spun.

“I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have let it slip like it was nothing, I know I should’ve told you, but I’m a fucking coward and can never bring myself to”, Chris tried to walk closer to you, but you immediately walked away.

The back of your knees hit your mattress, and you immediately stumbled and fell ass-first on it. Your hands were shaking, the ringing in your ears seemed to intensify, and your chest started to feel heavy. “You… You should’ve told me what? I don’t understand a single thing, Chris. What the fuck are you talking about?”

Chris remained rooted on the spot, looking at you like standing right there was hurting him. “I’m not just a demon. I wasn’t even always a demon… My wings, my soul… God took them away from me because I tried to get you back from the underworld many, many years ago”.

Your lower lip started to wobble, your chest felt tight. Was he saying that… he lost his wings because of you? But that didn’t make any sense whatsoever to you. Chris just kept talking, rambling like he often did.

“Why do you think you’ve always been fascinated by the occult? It doesn’t make sense considering your background, does it? But you are. You always sought out that which was beyond, you’ve always been looking for me”, Chris walked closer to the bed, and your eyes remained fixed on his eyes, lost in the darkness. In the darkness that apparently had been your fault…

“I was one of God’s angels, you know? An obedient little servant… Always ready to do whatever She asked of me. That changed when I met you. Not this you, but the you in your first life. Since then, I am bound to you, I promised you I would be, and we are. But God just can’t let me have what I want… Because of what I did, because She banished me to the underworld, I can only leave it whenever you are looking for me”.

Chris laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous laugh, more one caused by absurdity, one that left a bitter taste on your tongue. “If your bond is so strong, then I’m sure you’d have no problem waiting for the call… That’s what She told me then. And… I suppose She was right. It doesn’t matter if it takes you centuries to be reborn. You always look for me. Whenever you reincarnate into a human, you always look for me”.

“N–No. I wasn’t– I didn’t…” This wasn’t what you’d been trying to do when you had decided to summon a demon… How could you be looking for Chris, when you didn’t even know him? You were calling to any demon… weren’t you? You were sure you’d been doing just that, which was why it was so hard for your brain to fully understand what he was telling you. “How could I? I didn’t know you before that”.

“You did!” Chris’ voice boomed in your room, the loudest, most aggressive you’d ever heard it. It made you jump on the spot, the way the darkness in his eyes started shifting, swirling into erratic patterns, the way his tail thrashed behind him, all of it combined made you feel uneasy. Especially when he was walking, getting closer to your bed. “You do! Listen to me–!”

“Stop it!” You raised one of your hands, with your palm facing him. Chris froze on the spot, just before he could climb into your bed. “Just… just stop shouting!”

Slowly, Chris’ expression changed. From that angry, frowning demon, to a look of shock, then concern. “I didn’t–I didn’t mean to–”

“Stop talking for a second, would you?!” You brought your hands to your face, and applied pressure on your eye sockets with your fingertips.

Your head was throbbing, overworked from trying to fully understand what Chris was telling you. Suddenly, you felt like crying. The tight feeling in your chest was suffocating you, his presence was suffocating you, and, before you knew it, you were sobbing, having a full on meltdown right then and there.

“Love, listen–”

“No! What do I have to listen to?! Huh?!” You could barely see him through your blurry vision, only able to barely make out the shape of his body and his tail anxiously moving behind him. “That it’s my fault that you’re like this right now?! That I’m somehow trapped in a cycle with you?! What the fuck is this about?! That just doesn’t make sense, Chris! You’re lying!”

“I’m not lying! I can give you all the details you want, but not… not like this, not right now. You need to calm down and–”

“I need to calm down?! Me?!” You scoffed, followed by quite possibly the most pathetic sob you’d ever heard. You were sure your head was about to explode, the ringing in your ears got even louder, and you just needed to breathe. “This isn’t what I wanted… It’s not what I was looking for… Please just… just leave”.

“What?! No. No, no, I can’t–!” Chris was scrambling, once again trying to get on your bed, trying to get close to you.

“I said leave, Christopher!” You couldn’t recognise your own voice coming out of your mouth, you could barely understand where you were, where was up, where was down… The world was spinning, your whole body started to hurt, and all you wanted to do was lay down and cry. Alone, in silence.

“No, no, no, please! Don’t use my name for this, it’s not fair! I can’t just leave you like this!” The air around you started to shift, like there was a strong current coming from the window, it had goosebumps rising on your flesh, it almost made you tremble.

“Please leave me alone, Christopher. I just… Whatever this is, I just… I just can’t–”

Chris fell to his knees, clutching his chest. His body was taut, like he was fighting that strong blow raking your bedroom, like it was taking every single bit of power he had to remain right there.

Between gasps, Chris crawled to the side of your bed. He tried to reach out to you, but you just couldn’t let him get any closer, you couldn’t, so you shuffled backwards, sobbing as you watched his hand fall on the edge of your mattress and gripping it tightly.

You could barely make out the features of his face, but you could tell he was looking right at you. 

“I know… I know it’s hard, but, please…” He looked like he was in excruciating pain, like he was about to rip your mattress with how tightly he was holding onto it. “Please, call for me. Whenever you’re ready, just call for me. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait–”

Chris’ form quickly evaporated into dark mist. The air in your room went back to normal, rather abruptly. The sudden shift had you collapsing on your bed and gasping for air.

It was all so much.

Whatever just happened, was just too much for you. 

The pain in your head intensified, you felt like the weight of the world had been placed on your chest, but, worst of all, you felt just so incredibly cold. So, so cold. Unbearably cold. So you reached for your bed sheets and threw them on your body to try and warm yourself up.

You spent a long time curled up under the bed sheets, with your face buried in one of your pillows while you just cried your heart out. You were hurting all over somehow. Emotionally, physically, spiritually… 

It wasn’t until your body had exhausted all remaining energy fuel within yourself that you eventually stopped crying. And as you laid there, dealing with all the different aches and pains of your body, just as you were about to pass out for the night, you finally understood why Chris had always been so insistent on aftercare.

It was, in fact, a very integral part of the act of sex. If you’d let him do it before this whole thing exploded, maybe you wouldn’t be feeling like a beaten up, empty tin can.

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

Author’s notex2: i am so sorry. the third and final part is currently being planned.

Tagging:

@comet-falls · @princelingperfect · @notastraykid · @iadorethemskz · @kileidoscope · @maknae00 · @dundullresident · @vitrealisbunny · @yeetfellx · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @oiminho · @binchangf · @luxsonny · @mamieishere · @straylightdream · @bintificreads · @seo--changbin · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @ppiri-bahng · @letsbangchanblog · @fun-fanfics · @armystay89 · @iightsung · @noellllslut · @100layersofdaddyissues · @toplinehyunjin · @biribarabiribbaem · @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad · @stayconnecteed · @floatingcoffecup · @5starlee · @ven-fic-recs · @poutypoutybin · @kisskissbanggang

If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form. you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist

[bubuslutty]

hc: witch!reader x 141 (+ Ale, Rudy, König, Horangi) as monsters

A monster's high

word count: 1.5k

tags: they/them pronouns, poc friendly, 3rd person pov, proof read by me so sorry for any mistakes, nsfw, fluff

warnings: a bit of body horror

a/n: i initially meant for this to be fluffy but uhhh I guess I'm a whore 🥰 enjoy either way!!! 💙 pls if u wanna see anything pls let me know, cuz I just want more excuses to talk abt monster cod mw2 guys!!

Soap (werewolf):

Johnny has a habit of scenting his witch when they have to go somewhere without him, and he claims it's to keep them safe from other monsters. but does he really need to rub his face all over their tummy and ass??

Johnny's witch takes care of him during his ruts by brewing him teas for his stomach aches. and provides him with their worn clothes so he can have familiar and comforting scents around him when he's rutting.

Soap also likes to hang out with his witch during nights on a full moon, so he can turn and run in the forest. and sometimes they even play catch with him, by throwing a stick and he runs after it, getting it for her, for pets and praises, tail wagging and all.

Ghost (symbiote):

Simon Riley is pretty cool, kind and pleasant to hang out with, Ghost on the other hand is dark in a weirdly attractive way (monster fucker alert). Ghost doesn't really have a form, they're just a mass of black matter that merges and melts into Simon's pores, but also has a voice of its own.

Reader has gotten used to Ghost jumping in on conversations when they're talking with Simon. And has even gotten used to Ghost threathening (flirting) to eat them (??). While Simon always apologises about Ghost, reader hasn't figured out if Ghost wants to eat them literally or sexually.

Reader has also gotten used to walking around Simon's place and being suddenly pulled into a dark corner by a cold tentacle attached to Simon's symbiote. Then asked in a very ominous voice "Can you get orange juice from the corner store? Simon can't, too tired."

Reader shrugs and nods, "Okay." while being held up in the air by dark matter.

"Thank you." Ghost whispers, their voice raising all the hairs in reader's body.

Price (Dragon hybrid):

he can breathe fire, but doesn't allow himself to so he satiates the urge with cigars. Breathing fire is a hazard and can put others around him in danger, and he can accidentally destroy his belongings by allowing the tickle of a flame leave his throat.

But sometimes he slips up, for example when he's balls deep in reader (don't ask me how we got here). They were curious about what it'd be like fucking a dragon hybrid and how can Price say no to those pretty eyes?

It happens when he's about to orgasm, and he feels fire tickle his throat, and when he can't swallow the urge back, he throws his head back and let's out fire escape his lips, blowing it upward so it doesn't catch on anything.

And then when reader realises what he just did, he gets shy about it. Usually he doesn't spit fire when he fucks someone, but reader doesn't need to know that.

Gaz (Crow harpy hybrid):

first of all, Gaz has the prettiest, softest feathers. They're black but Show different colours when lights hit them in different angles. And reader spends a lot of time just admiring them and caressing them while he plays his favourite video game.

And when they accidentally press on the feathers a bit too hard, he jumps and grabs their wrist, "Don't do that again, please."

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry." Reader apologises

"You didn't, they're just a bit sensitive… That's all." Gaz mumbles and they nod, resuming caressing his feathers in the gentlest way possible as Gaz resumes his game and tries to ignore the tingle at the base of his spine, making him shudder and heat up.

Horangi (Tiger shifter):

at first he scared reader because when they first met him, he was in his tiger form napping in the living room when reader walked in, completely clueless with a bunch of ingredients for a potion in their arms, "I got the-"

They used all of their strenght not to drop everything in their arms because the ingredients are expensive while they stood, facing a sleeping tiger, taking up the whole couch.

The tiger quickly noticed their presence and woke up, lazily blinking and letting out a big yawn, revealing a sharp set of teeth and reader readied themselves to cast a spell if the tiger was to ever attack or try anything.

The tiger kept staring at reader until they got bored and stood up on the couch, and shifted just like that, fur flipped into pink soft skin and bones reshaping themselves in real time.

And so reader was face to face with a naked man in the middle of Soap's living room.

König (eldritch):

König wears a huge diy'ed mask on his head, covering red and black smooth salty skin and tentacles. Sometimes he lets them hang outside the mask, poking and prodding this and that when he's comfortable, but most of the time they're hidden, out of sight.

Reader has yet to figure out where all of his tentacles come from, they know they come from his head, from the area that would be considered his chin and jaw if he had one, like a beard that has a mind of its own.

They've seen peeks of König shirtless a couple of times, but couldn't see any extra limbs or tentacles coming out of his skin, so how earth does he manages to wrap them in huge long tentacles? Where do they come from??

They've asked König of course, but all he did was smile, his eyes shaping half moons, patt their head and walked off without a word.

Alejandro (werewolf):

The only other werewolf in the bunch apart from Johnny. This man has also an obsession with scenting reader after Johnny scented them just to get a rise out of him.

He's territorial of course, very protective and loves to bite and nip at reader when they let him. Be it their hips, waist, tummy or ass, he'll happily sink his teeth in any part of their body as long as they let him.

He's also allergic to wearing clothes when the sun shines, if Alejandro senses that summer is very near, he'll strip to his boxers and hang around in all of his tan and hairy glory.

And reader is only human, when they see him like that, their heart skips a beat and they quickly leave the room Alejandro or otherwise he'll somehow smell them getting aroused.

And Alejandro doesn't even need to smell their arousal to know they're affected, because he can hear their thumping heart when he focuses his hearing.

They also try to avoid him when they've had their back blown by a local resident monster (only Soap's pack tho, no one else or they'll (141 & Co.) have a mental breakdown lmao) because he can smell the cum plugged inside them. and even when they've showered, washed away all traces of sex, he still can smell it underneath all the soap, lotion and body mist. And when he does smell it, he corners them and bullies them into telling him how it went down while they whine and beg him to let them go (they actually love it dw guys, ale would let them go as soon as they express real discomfort)

Rudy (human):

The second human in the pack after reader. While reader is a witch and in tune with the spiritual and supernatural world, Rudy can't feel shit. like nothing at all. everyone might be on edge because they can smell someone's heat and he'd be sitting there absolutely oblivious, at least reader is knowledgeable enough to know the signs of a heat or rut without smelling it.

Reader might be reluctant to go somewhere because they feel like the vibes are off, or the place is cursed and haunted, and Rudy would shrug and go in to retrieve whatever must be retrieved.

Rudy could be checking himself out in a mirror while a spirit would be looking right back at him and reader is just standing there, uncomfortable while he hums and fixes his hair and the spirit is highly confused because how the fuck isn't he being seen by the dumb very handsome human?

He's the type of guy who'd brush off any attempt at scaring him or cursing him without a second thought, a witch would try to curse him by planting a little pouch under his door matt and Rudy would absolutely have no idea and would never step on the matt at his doorstep because his legs are long and he never needed to step on it in the first place, he even has another one inside his house as well, it's just there to look nice really, so the curse never took effect in the first place until reader shows up and hisses in disgust, immediately finding the pouch for Rudy and throwing it away.

Even when a demon is actively trying to cause him nightmares, Rudy doesn't even notice because every night our boy passes out on werewolf knot, brain melted out of his ears, he barely has the energy to open one eye so it's impossible for his brain to conjure up dreams or be active enough so the demon can plant nightmares into his head.

I imagine Rudy getting his organs rearranged in the nastiest way possible while the invisible demon is just standing there like 🧍‍♀️😐 waiting for Rudy and the werewolf, who is probably Ale to be done so he can give him nightmares.

He's our unbothered King and I love him very much.

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @canadianmilkbag @angryandreadytokill @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs @canadianmilkbag @ahoeformando @ray-rook

[hom3landr]

My, My, I Could Never Let You Go

In which your extensive knowledge of teen movies and flair for the dramatic comes in handy

Homelander X Reader

You don’t know what put him in this foul mood but it must have been one hell of an event to have him this riled up and pissy. He barks at you for any perceived slight against him and even the sweetest touches don’t lessen the fire in his eyes or loosen the set of his jaw. His anger doesn’t seem to be directed at you specifically but rather you are forced to take the brunt of it as the only other inhabitant of the zoo exhibit that Vought considers a penthouse. Alas, while you need not fear him hurting you, you are not spared from the venom that spews from his lips. However, you’ve done this song and dance before and you know that times like these are when he needs you the most.

So you devise a plan and for once you’re grateful that being Homelander’s girlfriend means that you never have to wait long to obtain what you want.

~

Your grouchy boy had to leave for his meeting with the Seven. You wince when you think of how that’s going to play out. He has another engagement after which means you have a few hours to put together your brilliant plan. Your items arrive promptly and you practically vibrate as you begin your plot.

It takes a bit to figure out how to program the lights you purchased to sync to the music and you only have enough time to toss your boa around your neck and get in position before he’s stomping into the apartment with petulant purpose. Your fingers itch as you grip the remote, eager for him to turn around so you can start the show. This is a stupid idea and you feel stupid but if this works then maybe you can baffle him out of his bad mood.

He turns…and the lights dim. His brows furrow only to raise in surprise when the two spotlights you have attached to your laptop illuminate your pose as you stand confidently atop his bed. The mirror above catches the light and causes a disco effect which suits your purposes to a T. Another press on the remote and an upbeat song starts playing

ABBA fills the room as you strike a pose in your bell bottoms and fluffy boa.

Homelander may be the celeb but you can hold your own when it comes to showmanship. Your brush is held up to your mouth like a microphone as you belt out the eternal classic Mamma Mia. Your whole life has been building to this moment. You are holding a metaphorical boombox for the man you love and if he wants a romance like the movies then that is just what he’s gonna get.

Homelander stands frozen at the foot of the bed. He’s squinting at you in confusion as his hands rest on his hips. You bust a sick move and he emits a baffled scoff. He doesn’t stop you though. He waits, maybe not patiently, but he lets you have your moment as you serenade him happily.

When the song ends you take a bow to a silent audience.

You stand awkwardly for a few moments on top of the bed sheets that are now impossibly rumpled from your dancing. The hairbrush drops to the bed with a soft thump. You wait for any kind of response but eventually you realize you might not get one.

“What? Never had a cheesy teen romcom karaoke love confession before? I know I’m no Heath Ledger but…” You’re quickly cut off as Homelander tackles you onto the bed as soft as he can without causing you damage. You burst into delighted giggles as he presses kisses all over your face, leaving no spot untouched by his affection. You rest your hands on his shoulders and you feel warm inside as you realize that much of the tension is gone. He pulls back briefly to fix you with a soft bemused stare.

“Tha song doesn’t even make sense! You never left in the first place” he huffs, snuggling closer when your hands migrate to his hair.

“I wanted my Meryl Streep moment! Don’t judge me.” You squeal when he nips at your neck, his head briefly disappearing into the absurd mass of feathers. It tickles when he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh I’m judging. You didn’t see your dancing” he teases and you can feel his lips pull into a smirk. You swat him on the back of the head although you know it’s barely more than a breeze for him. You’re pleased that he’s pleased. Your boy is a sucker for cheese at heart and you’ll serenade him forever if it means he’ll smile the way he is right now.

After all…ABBA does have an extensive catalog of music.