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flowersforbucky · 2 months ago

Text

devil's in the backseat

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.7k

summary/prompt: a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected.

or getting fucked in front of a mirror

author's note: this is my first halloween fic!! this was so much fun to write. if you've read haunting adeline, then you know exactly what inspired the mirror maze scene! also disclaimer i have never been to coney island so if any of this is inaccurate then just pretend ok it's fiction :))

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only content, sex in a public setting, mirror sex, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, friends to lovers, romanogers makes an appearance! kind of grumpy!reader, protective bucky, random men being creepy, language, reader is afab, she/her pronouns, reader pov, no use of y/n, porn with a little plot, fluff

my masterlist

“I can't fucking believe I let you talk me into wearing this.”

You tug the tight, cherry red colored velvet fabric of the babydoll dress in place for the dozenth time since arriving at Coney Island.

“What? You look hot. Plus, our costumes go great together.”

Natasha's costume mirrors your own - except hers is a pearlescent white and instead of a pitchfork and horns, she dons angel wings and a halo.

“I don't feel hot. I feel cold. It's fifty degrees and the sun hasn't even set yet.” If it wasn't for the black thigh high boots that cover the majority of your legs, you'd be shivering in the chilly late October weather.

“It's not my fault that you put off getting a costume until the last minute and had to pick through what little was left at Spirit Halloween,” she mumbles, passing you one of the cups of apple cider that the cashier hands to her. You gladly accept, sucking down the hot liquid in hopes that it will warm you from the inside.

Her phone dings as the two of you walk towards the rides. “It's Steve,” she informs you as she reads the text message. “They just got here,” she looks back up at you with a smirk on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bucky decided to come with them.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly hating your borderline provocative costume even more.

“I thought he was leaving for a job in Denver this evening?”

It's not that you didn't want to see Bucky. It's that you didn't want to see Bucky dressed like this. As if you don't already get flustered around him when you're dressed in normal, everyday clothing. The hem of your dress barely conceals the curve of your ass and your tits are practically spilling over the low neckline.

“Guess it's been postponed,” she shrugs, nudging you with her shoulder.

The two of you turn to look in the opposite direction when a familiar voice calls your names. You see Steve, Sam, and Bucky walking towards you. Steve is dressed as a pirate, eyepatch and all. Sam wears a cowboy costume with an oversized hat, concealing the upper half of his face entirely.

And Bucky? Bucky wears jeans and a navy blue Henley.

Yeah, you're regretting any of your life choices that lead up to this moment.

“Well, well, well,” Sam drawls as he tips his hat back enough to take in yours and Natasha’s outfits. “Look what we have here. An angel and a devil. Have you two already entered the costume contest for best duo or should I go add your names?”

“You wouldn't dare,” you scold him. Natasha just laughs, falling into Steve’s embrace as he plants a kiss to her forehead.

“We should, you know,” Natasha agrees. “I think we'd have a pretty good shot at winning.”

“Yeah, right,” you retort, looking around at some of the more elaborate, creative costumes that many of the strangers around you are sporting. You notice a man and woman dressed as Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz and know that you and Nat wouldn't stand a chance in a costume contest. “And what about you?” You acknowledge Bucky, your eyes skimming up and down his civilian clothes. “Didn't have time to pull together a costume?”

He smirks, his eyes trailing up your figure for a heated moment before he responds. “I'll have you know that I am in costume, actually.”

Steve and Sam both snort in laughter.

“Oh yeah? And what are you supposed to be, exactly?”

He tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, showing off the shiny vibranium that is his left arm.

“I'm the Winter Soldier,” he says with a smug grin. “Obviously.”

“How creative,” you praise sarcastically.

“Cut me some slack,” he feigns insult. “I was supposed to be halfway to Colorado right now. I didn't have time to pull together anything too cute.” His eyes flicker to your dress and boots at the word cute. If anyone else notices, they say nothing.

“What are we doing just standing around here?” Natasha exclaims, tugging Steve in the direction of the rides and games. “I want to ride every ride and eat funnel cake.”

They race ahead of the rest of you, with Sam close behind, leaving you and Bucky to fall into step beside each other.

“So, why did your mission get postponed?” You ask casually, trying to fight down the nerves that threaten to bubble over every time you're alone with him.

“Beats me,” he shrugs. “Fury didn't give much of an explanation. I got the text as I was loading my bags into the car to head out.”

“That's annoying,” you mumble, swallowing the remnants of your hot apple cider. “I'm sorry,” you tell him with a glance in his direction. “I'm sure it was for a good reason.”

He shrugs. “I'm here, so I can't be too mad about it.”

Before you can overthink exactly what he means by that, you're both brought to a halt when a jolly looking man in a Ghostbusters costume steps directly in front of you, blocking your path.

“This little devil looks like she needs a giant sloth!” He exclaims, gesturing towards the prizes hanging above the balloon darts station next to you.

“Oh, no,” you start. “That’s okay–”

“Come on!” The red-faced vendor insists, looking at Bucky. “Don't you want to win your girl a giant sloth? Perhaps a giant giraffe? If she was mine, I'd be winning her any prize she wants. I'll give you five throws for ten doll–”

“Fine, fine,” Bucky relents, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. You notice a faint hint of pink blooms along the apples of his cheeks, but he doesn't correct the man when he calls you his girl. “You've worn me down,” he sighs as he shoves a crumpled ten dollar bill into the man's hand.

The man accepts the money with a satisfied, toothy grin and hands Bucky five darts.

“If you get three out of the five throws, you can choose a prize from here,” the man gestures towards a section of smaller prizes. “And if you get all five throws, you can choose–”

The man is cut off by the sharp popping sound of a balloon, and then a second, and a third, until all five darts have been impaled on the board in a consecutive line in a matter of seconds.

“She'll take the bunny,” Bucky tells him before he can erase the stunned look off of his face. He points to a large, flop-eared purple bunny hanging from the upper row of prizes.

Unlike the vendor, you aren't shocked by his perfect aim at all. Anyone who knows Bucky would have known that he wouldn't miss a single shot. You are shocked, however, that he chose the bunny without even asking which prize you want.

The man in the Ghostbusters costume grabs the bunny and hands it to you, surprise still etched on his face. He mumbles a quick goodnight before he's moving onto the next people approaching the stand.

“How did you know I'd want the bunny?” You ask Bucky, trying to juggle the stuffed animal, your empty cup of cider, and your pitchfork all in your arms.

“You like bunnies, right? It was an educated guess.” He shrugs, moving through a thick crowd of people away from the game stations. “Here, let me carry it for you,” he offers when he notices the large stuffed animal is obstructing your vision. You hand it over to him and he tucks it underneath his metal arm.

“Thank you,” you tell him, your cheeks heating at the realization that he'd remembered such an inconsequential piece of information about you. You do like bunnies. The cold night air suddenly feels a lot more balmy.

“I'm - uh - I'm going to find a trash can real quick,” you say as you wiggle the empty cup in your hand. Truthfully, you just need a moment to collect yourself.

You begin walking in the opposite direction before he can reply, your eyes scanning the throng of people for a garbage can.

So what if he knows that you like bunnies? It's a pretty trivial fact that probably means nothing. You know that Natasha’s favorite animal is flamingos - because she's your friend. It's normal for friends to know things that their friends like.

Right? Right.

“I like that outfit a whole lot, baby. But I think you'd look even cuter in just the boots and those horns.”

You're so lost in your internal monologue that you don't even notice two men closing in on you as you toss the empty cup into a trash can. Unlike most of the people here tonight, neither of them are in costumes. They stand so close to you that you can smell booze on their breath.

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan as you attempt to walk away, but they've effectively blocked you between their bodies and the large garbage can behind you. Wicked grins grow on their faces as you realize that you can't get by them.

“Look, I don’t have the patience for this tonight. Get out of my fucking way.”

“Or what?” One of them taunts. “You'll use that little pitchfork on us? Jokes on you, because we're into that.”

“What if I used it on you?” A familiar voice comes from behind them. “Would you still like that?”

Before they can even turn around to identify the voice, Bucky is pulling him back by the hood of his sweatshirt and throwing him on the ground with little to no effort. The other one attempts to stumble away as Bucky turns his attention to him.

He still has your bunny clutched in his flesh hand - despite the seriousness of the situation, you have to bite your lip to keep from smirking at the sight. You don't know of anyone who could be quite as intimidating while holding a stuffed purple bunny.

“What about you?” Bucky asks, towering over the guy by half a foot. “You got anything you wanna say?”

“I - no - we didn't know she was with someone,” he half slurs, half stutters out. His gaze flickers to Bucky's vibranium hand. The man on the ground manages to stand back up, following after his friend.

“Now you know,” Bucky calls after them as they quickly hobble away.

“I had that handled, you know,” you tell Bucky with a nod towards your pitchfork. “But thank you, anyway. Really.”

He places a gentle but firm grasp on the top of your arms and begins to tug you in the opposite direction, guiding you through the small crowd that had stopped to witness the altercation.

“I have no doubt about that,” he sighs, releasing his grip on you when the two of you are a reasonable distance away. “But I also don't doubt that you handling it would have drawn even more attention.”

He's right. If he hadn't stepped in, your method of handling it would have been even more dramatic.

“They would have deserved it,” you mumble. “I knew I shouldn't have worn this stupid costume.”

“They definitely would have deserved it,” he agrees. “And your costume isn't stupid. You should be able to wear any costume you like without getting harassed by drunk assholes.”

The two of you approach the ferris wheel as it comes to a slow stop, a couple getting out of one of the cars. You and Bucky flash your wristbands to the operator, who offers to hold your pitchfork for you while you’re on the ride.

“Besides,” he continues as you sit down next to each other in the car, the operator locking the gate in place. “I happen to like your costume. A lot.” He turns his head to you, his gaze trailing from the tops of your thigh high boots and up to the felt horns that adorn your head.

There's a shift in energy as the ferris wheel suddenly comes to life, sending you sliding across the limited space of the metal bench seat and right up against him.

“Oh, yeah?” You tease with your face a few inches from his. Close enough to see your reflection in his irises. “Is that why two different people have implied that I'm yours tonight and you haven't corrected either of them?”

“Your costume had nothing to do with that. I wouldn't have corrected them even if you were dressed as a giant banana,” he says, his tone and face both serious. “Does it bother you that I didn't correct them?”

“No,” you answer automatically - eagerly. You should feel embarrassed, but with the way he's looking at you, and how good it feels to be pressed so snug against him, you can't find it within yourself to care. “I didn't correct them either,” you point out.

The ferris wheel comes to a stop to let new people get on when your cart reaches the peak.

“And why is that?” he asks lowly. If you weren't sitting so close to him, you wouldn't have been able to hear him over the obnoxiously loud carnival music that pours from speakers in between the ferris wheel's carts.

He wraps his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you further into him.

“Because I liked the sound of it,” you answer honestly. Your voice quivers - from nerves, or from a gust of wind that sways the pod still perching at the top of the wheel.

“Is that right?” he murmurs. He places his flesh hand on the exposed skin of your thigh - just above the top of your boot and just under the hem of your dress. His fingertips rest near the crack between your thighs. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart - not much, but enough for him to smirk at your body's automatic response to his touch.

“You like the sound of being my girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I do. Is that okay with you?”

He chuckles, his fingers inching further up your thigh. You spread your legs open further, giving him the go ahead to go as high as he wants. He stops when he reaches the apex of your thighs, just an inch away from the cloth of your panties. He applies pressure with his fingertips, his short nails digging into the sensitive flesh and making you clench your legs around his hand.

“That depends,” he contemplates. “Are you my girl?”

You open your mouth to answer when the sensation of his index finger grazing the fabric that covers your cunt makes you forget how to speak. You sit there with your mouth agape as he hooks a finger into the cotton panties.

He eases a finger through your folds, lubricating it in your slick before adding a second finger and massaging the pads of them over your sensitive clit.

“Feels like you're my girl.”

You become vaguely aware of the fact that the ride is now in motion once more, heading back down to the ground, when Bucky places the stuffed bunny on your lap in an effort to conceal what is happening in the cart that you and him share.

He alternates between slow, languid circles and quick strokes against your clit as the ferris wheel makes its way down and then back up again. You can feel yourself soaking your underwear as the world dizzies around you. You hide your face in Bucky's neck to conceal the pleasure written across your face.

You're seconds away from coming against his fingers, the pressure in your belly building to a climax, when he pulls away and tugs your dress into place. Your gaze snaps up to his, shooting daggers, as the ride comes to a slow stop. He looks back at you with an amused smirk as the operator approaches the cart to unlock the gate.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he tells you in a strained voice as he snatches the bunny back from you. “After you,” he motions with his head as the operator holds the gate open for you.

Stunned and speechless at what just happened, you stumble out of the cart and down the stairs to the ride's exit with Bucky behind you - both of you completely forgetting about your pitchfork. You can't help but snort a laugh at the position of the large stuffed animal - directly over Bucky’s crotch.

“Real discreet,” you tell him, glancing down at the bunny and then back up to the semi-pained expression on his face.

“I have to admit, right now this thing is worth every penny that I spent on it,” he sighs, and then removes one hand from the bunny to place it on your lower back. “Follow me,” he instructs with a smirk.

He guides you through the crowd and you follow him without question, just trying to ignore the wet ache between your legs.

You shoot him a quizzical look when you arrive at the house of mirrors. You haven't been in a mirror maze since you'd gotten lost in one at ten years old.

There's an attendant sitting in a chair outside of the entrance who unenthusiastically greets the two of you. Bucky reaches into his pocket, digging out his wallet for the second time that evening. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and flashes it at the elderly man smoking a Pall Mall.

“Take this and don't let anyone else in until we come out,” Bucky tells him before dragging you into the attraction. You and the gray haired man both go wide eyed.

“What was that?” you cackle as the door slams to a close behind you. Bucky doesn't answer, just grabs one of your hands in his and begins guiding you through the maze of mirrors as if he's been here a hundred times.

The entire place is lit by bright, neon red lights that only aid in further confusing your sense of direction. Bucky doesn’t seem phased in the slightest, finally coming to a stop after a few minutes of maneuvering through the endless mirrors.

“You never answered me, you know,” he says as he drops your bunny to the floor. “When I asked if you're my girl.” He smirks at you, stepping closer to you and backing you against the mirror behind you.

“You just paid that man a hundred dollars to get me alone,” you jab as you pull him to you by the front of his Henley. “I think it's safe to say that I am.”

He smiles as you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his. His hands trail down your back until they land where your thighs meet the curve of your ass cheeks. You release months worth of tension into the kiss, sweeping your tongue along the swell of his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth the second that he parts his lips for you. He groans into the kiss, kneading the globes of your ass with his fingers. You can feel a prominent bulge through his jeans against your stomach.

Adrenaline begins to kick in when he pulls away, looking down at you with lust blown pupils. He sinks to the floor below you, kneeling in front of your cunt as he raises your dress around your waist and tugs your panties down your legs and over your boots. He slips them into his back pocket before hiking one of your legs across his shoulder.

You can already feel your juices leaking down your inner thighs before his mouth makes contact with you. When he does, you lean your head back against the glass behind you in pleasure.

He sucks your clit between his kiss-swollen lips with an obscene pop before running his tongue down your folds. He plunges his tongue inside you and you grind yourself against his face, chasing the release that you were seconds away from on the ferris wheel.

He moans at the taste of you and the vibration has your walls clenching around his tongue. You ride out your orgasm on his face, the neon red lights blurring and spinning around you.

Despite the fact that your legs feel like jelly, you pull him up to you as soon as you're able to form a coherent thought. You clumsily paw at the button of his pants and his zipper, and he shoves both his jeans and boxers down over his ass, just far enough to free his cock.

He places both of his hands just under your armpits and lifts you as you instinctively lock your legs around his hips.

The head of his cock nudges your wet folds, your juices coating his length before he nudges it inside you.

You feel full before he's even halfway in you. Your walls constrict around him and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip as he adjusts to the sensation of you.

“Fuck, that's tight. You're perfect,” he grunts as he sheaths the rest of his length into you. You let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.

He has total control as he cradles you between his body and the cold, hard mirror behind you. He sets a harsh pace, his head ramming against your cervix at the sweetest angle from his position beneath you.

He manages to support you with the strength of only his vibranium arm as he brings his flesh hand between your bodies, once again massaging your clit in rapid circles as he fucks up into you.

You cum around his length in a shockingly short amount of time, digging your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he follows after you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum.

You stay in the same position after you've both reached your climax, panting against one another in the claustrophobic feeling space.

“We should probably go find our friends,” you say breathlessly with a kiss to the side of his face. “Sam's probably getting sick of being a third wheel.”

He pulls out of you, his cum running down your thighs and ass cheeks. He gently lowers you back down to the ground as he begins to tuck himself back into his pants.

He laughs, cupping your face in his hands as he pulls your lips to his once again.

“If he hates being a third wheel, just imagine how much he's going to hate being a fifth wheel.”

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whereisthedamndaddymanual · 1 year ago

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Rich Cougar in her late thirties.

Sees hot older man in a beat up vehicle.

Clearly doesn't give a shit.

She senses big dick energy

#3 minutes cellular communication #I am tempted for fat diamonds in the ears over hoops #....or a couple onyx's would be nice #thanks for following!#lead unknown follow willingly or get me out if the wya #you: i am the mysterious bad girl you dream about Eve #me: I like looking at this #girl at the fair 😏#Jason's mom thought they were into him... 😏#handwriting analysis: you a yes a brief flicker of the fair good #what a hilarious advantage you have over me and yet I can reduce you to a wet spasming mess #there is a certain beautiful balance there #and dTL of the sandbox and crescent I see now it was wooden shoes asking me the question about signs and astrology compatibility #now that you mention it #like sometimes I am a deep thinker but I never thought about sharing a birthday with my blue eyed beautiful woman #to see a record stating I was born California it is asinine #SG-2 is like you right here boi #a hard spire for a lower case magnetic spire #99 is also having two g's and that's VC Puthick #you look around at your colors and what not it appears you have all protection installed #the O of Arthur #how profound #people are like waiting for Arthur to return and Merlin keeps him across the hall already in the flesh again #He is a man who lived through all that crazy 20th century shit #also #Eat Sleep Cheer #folded over I am like eat sheep #and then I remember Melva cooking that raw ass lamb #a visit with old Melva (these old value systems you know)#I should have been like I don't know about God but grandpa was busy with you one way or another

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hmusunoo · 4 months ago

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𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒! - hyung line

▏synopsis. enhypen hyung line as different types of angst tropes

▏warnings. angst, most of these are really sad.

▏wc. 2k

✩ heeseung - memory loss

You woke up in a blur. The lights to this very lit up room were blinding, coupled with the white walls and thin sheets you laid upon. Your mind was in a haze, your eyes taking long to adjust to its surroundings as your head pounded so hard you could feel the ache behind your eyes. Groggily you brought your hand up, pawing at your eyes to alleviate the bleariness from them.

Your confusion was laden on your face as you took in your surrounds. You were definitely in a hospital that was for certain. If it weren’t for the stark white of the room and the crisp smell of cleaning supplies you weren’t sure if your mind would have even registered it. It seemed that normal day to day things were splotchy to recall, names of objects and colors were hard to come by.

Your body had ached. Feeling as if you were hit by an a thousand pound truck at record speed and in the confusion to find your bearings you hadn’t noticed the hunched figure that sat directly next to your hospital bed, fast asleep. Chest rising and falling at a rhythm.

more under the cut!

A boy sat next to your bed, holding tightly to your hand as if it were his lifeline. You wiggled your hand out of the boys grip. The movement had caused the boy to stir, opening his eyes to peer at you. The boys eyes widened as he looked you.

"Y/n!" He said, hoping up from his place on the bed. "You're awake." His smile had brought a small sense of warmth to your chest, one you couldn't explain and were extremely confused by.

You tilt your head in confusion at the boy but said nothing, struggling to find the right words to say, to break his happy spirit when you tell this boy that you had no idea who he was. None at all.

Finally deciding to break the ice you asked "Who are you?" The bright smile that once adorn this beautiful boys fell, a look of confusion now replaced the happy expression. "What?" He asked his tone broken sounding.

"It's Heeseung? Your'e boyfriend.." You tried your hardest to force the memories of him back but it just wasn't working. You had no idea who he was and somehow deep down inside of you seeing him sad and heartbroken hurt you.

Your mind might not have any idea to who he was but your heart definitely had.

✩ Jake - bet

You were running. You weren't entirely sure where you were going but all you did know was that you had to get out of here.

You were trying to catch your breath but the bubbling of a sob was to hard to swallow, catching in your throat. The sound of footsteps behind you reminding you to keep your pace and not allow Jake to catch up to you. You feared that your resolve might break if you were face to face with him after what was just revealed to you.

"Y/n!" Jake shouted after you panting. His voice breathy from running. You started slowing down getting tired. The single lapse win pace was Jake's biggest advantage in catching up to you. "Listen to me please, baby"

Jake sounded desperate his voice breaking slightly at the end of his sentence. "Please" he pleaded again. You stood still your back to him hugging your arms around yourself, the only form of protection you could provide yourself.

"You lied to me" You whispered not able to conjure up anger only sadness. "I was a bet, a fucking bet" The tears from your eyes like a waterfall. You didn't turn to him, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You wanted to appear stronger than that even though you knew you weren't.

"I can explain, ok." Jake said sucking in a breath "I'm sorry I hurt you-"

"You broke me!" You whipped around to look at him finally. The anger finally simmering in you, reaching its boiling point and exploding all over the two of you.

"I gave everything to you! Just to find out I was a fucking bet. The punch line of your sick fucking joke. I don't want any part of it anymore. Leave me alone." You spit the words at him trying to hurt him like he had hurt you. You think you succeeded when you watched his face drop. A look of despair over taking him. He was one hell of an actor you'd give him that.

"Just- let me explain before you berate me-"

"You deserve it" You said cutting him off again "You deserve to hurt like I hurt Jake."

"You were a bet." He said, you scoffed shaking your head at him "I know that already."

"But I fell in love with you, that was real. And I know that doesn't change how this happened but I mean it ok? I love you. " The tears felt like they were forming again.

Your heart breaking even more, you knew within yourself that you would not be able to forgive him. if now or if ever you weren't sure, you just knew that it hurt walking away from him.

✩ jay - saying hurtful things in anger during an argument

"You're not listening to me!" You shouted in frustration grabbing your head in annoyance. "You never have time for me anymore Jay. I miss you"

"I hear you loud and clear Y/n, and im telling you I can't help that I have a job and responsibilities." Jay sat on the couch head in his hands as you stood over him trying to get him to just hear you out god damnit.

"That's not what I mean and you know it Jay." You said defeated. "I just want you to make time for me. I miss my boyfriend, I miss who we used to be."

"I can't always be the same person y/n" Jay snapped, standing from his place on the couch. "Some of us are trying to do things in their life, some of us want to be successful and not be stuck at home listening to their nagging girlfriend all day." The words struck you.

You said nothing in surprise at his sudden outburst. The silence more than likely clearing Jay's mind. The realization of what he said hanging in the air over the two of you.

"So I'm just some loser girlfriend who waits at home all day for her more successful boyfriend to make a living for her. got it." You said curtly nodding at Jay.

"Y/n I didn't me-"

"You didn't mean it? Then why did you say it Jay. Stop kidding yourself that's the most real thing you've said to me in awhile." Your words stung him. The severity of the situation dawning on him.

"I didn't mean to say it like that Y/n." Jay said, reaching out to grab your waist. You turned away from him softly muttering "I need a break."

"You need a break?" He asked, his tone rushed. "Are you breaking up with me? Over something like this?"

His question had made you angry. Did he think what he said was nothing? That it weighed no significance. "I don't know" You responded honestly. "what I do know is that I need to be away from you. I'll be at Y/f/n's house don't call me." With that being said you walked out the door grabbing only the essentials not knowing if you'd ever be back.

✩ sunghoon - reader catches him talking badly about her

You were excited to finally see Sunghoon after he had been busy with comeback schedules and preparing for tour. He had been spending a lot of time in the dorms and not coming to see you as often as he used to. It was exhausting being away from him.

You often called him only to be sent to voicemail or to get a quick 'love u talk to you later' text. Something that rarely ever happened, you didn't end up talking later.

You would sometimes go days without talking to Sunghoon, you missed him dearly. So tonight you decided to surprise him. You were going to wait for him at the dorm. He would be home soon and finally you'd be able to spend some time together even if its for the night. You sat in Sunghoon's room scrolling on instagram waiting for the text from Jungwon that they were home. Finally your phone dinged with the notification that they were home.

You knew that it had been a long day for them so you decided to send a quick text to Sunghoon before he came up wanting him to be even more excited to see you when you surprised him.

You texted him ; have a goodnight babe! love you and miss you!!

it was simple and sweet and you just hoped that he loved in. Gathering the snacks you had gotten for the two of you, you felt giddy and jumpy at the thought of seeing Sunghoon after so long. Finally the door to dorms opened and you heard bustling of the boys coming in.

"I'm exhausted" You heard Jake groan out and then the sound of a thud that was most likely his bag. "Sunghoon why don't you go see Y/n tonight since we have the day off tomorrow." You heard Heeseung say. Sunghoon let out a groan. "She just texted me and honestly I'm not even going to answer I don't feel like dealing with her tonight."

Your ears perked up at that. A dreadful feeling sat at the pit of your stomach. "Hyung..." Jungwon spoke softly "maybe she just misses you?'

"She's over baring with it. She's like my mom with how much she texts and calls me. You think she would get the hint when I don't answer for days, I deal with millions of fangirls a day I don't need to deal with one when I get home too." Taken aback by his words you step back, hugging the wall.

You hadn't realized you were crying until you felt the wetness on your cheeks.

Sunghoon must have started to make his way towards the room because all you could hear was Jungwon's protest. It was too late though, the door swung open and you were met face to face with Sunghoon.

As soon as his eyes set on your his face turned as white as sheet. Realizing that you must have heard his harsh words based on the tears falling from your eyes.

"baby.." Sunghoon spoke shock written all over his painstakingly beautiful face.

"Is that how you really feel?" You asked him, the hears still falling from your eyes. "Like I'm some crazy fangirl"

Jungwon, Jake and Heeseung stood awkwardly behind Sunghoon watching the scene unfold before their eyes.

"Since i'm such a bother to you, I'll do you a favor by leaving and never coming back." You were stern. Turning to grab the things you had brought with you save for the snacks. He could have those.

"No, Y/n I didn't mean it like that I'm just stressed with work." He tried to reason with you. Trying to stop you from walking out go the dorm.

"I was only trying to help you Sunghoon. Not suffocate you." You were still crying. Humiliated as his members watched you break down.

"I know that baby- "

"don't call me that" You cut him off "I'm not your baby anymore."

"Y/n no" He said shaking his head. "Let's talk about this first." You shook your head a sigh falling from your lips.

"There's nothing to talk about I heard what you said, I got the message." With all your belongings in your hands you walked out the door leaving an embarrassed and heart broken sunghoon behind.

taglist - @shypen , @belovedhoon , @st1llm0nster , @blossommi , @jooniesbears-blog , @kkamismom12

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world-of-aus · 18 days ago

Text

This One's For You

Pairing: hockey player!bucky x NHL Photographer! Reader

Warning: Bucky barnes being a heartthrob

Authors Note: another snippet of Bucky and hotshot 🤭

The arena is a buzz of excitement; gold and black line one side, red and blue line the other, the two colors meeting and molding in the middle of each side. You’re at ice-level behind the protective barrier of Plexi-glass as you wait like the many fans for the game to start. Your equipment sits on your chair – a lone stool that has unfortunately seen better days. As you go to get your camera set up you feel your phone vibrate in the confines of your jean pocket.

Plucking your phone from your jeans you see an unread message from Natasha waiting to be opened. A picture of your jacketed back stares back at you, the message below reading,

‘You’d look so much better with your jacket off, a certain right defenseman would agree with me.’

‘It’s cold!’ you shoot back.

‘I left the apartment with you this morning, you have a long sleeve under, black one, remember?”

You curse your roommate under your breath, another message popping up below that one.

‘Take it Off or I’ll personally go take it off!’

‘Shouldn’t you be taking pre-game photos?’

A moment later a photo of Bucky walking in through the backstage of the arena is taking up your screen, he’s wearing a tailored suit, his hair lazily slicked back as he winks at the camera, his all too pink lips curled in a wicked smile. Your heart skips a beat in your chest, your teeth capturing the smile that threatens to break through.

‘Now take it off.’

‘So bossy’ you mutter under your breath as you take off your jacket, your jersey that she gifted you for your birthday now on full display.

‘Happy now?’

Her text takes a while to come in and only then do you realize why when her text comes in with Bucky’s contact attached. A picture of you adorning his jersey pops up a message appearing shortly after.

‘See now that looks so much better! Woops wrong chat..’

You whip your head around trying but failing miserably to find the blonde in question. Your phone vibrates in your hand.

‘Looking Good Hot Shot! Drinks on me after the win..”

‘At least take her to dinner first Barnes.. 😉’

Your cheeks are warm despite the cool air of the arena nipping at your skin as you read the messages transpiring between the two.

‘He didn’t mean it like that Tasha! Besides he’d need to secure a win against the Rangers first.’ is your odd lame of an attempt to dust away any feelings between the two of you your friend is trying to make appear out of thin air.

‘The win was in the bag the second you stepped foot into the arena Hot shot, you wearing my name was just an added bonus, oh I totally meant it like that but can the drinks be on you instead?’ 😉'

‘With all those puck bunnies sporting your last name throwing themselves at you I doubt you’ll remember, but given the chance you remember drinks can be on me.’

“Stop sabotaging yourself.” You jump slightly, hand on your racing chest as you look over your shoulder finding Natasha, her gear tossed over her shoulder, lanyard laid against her chest. She gives you a pointed stare, “you and Barnes have been doing this same old dance for some time now and it’s getting tiring y/n.” She shakes her head at you, “Not like that, this whole will they won’t they, we’re rooting for the two of you y/n. He’s not Brock,” she murmurs her hand reaching out for yours. “He’s reaching, barring his hand to you – you just need to meet him halfway and trust that he’ll catch you, we all know he will, we’re all just waiting for you – he’s waiting for you.”

You suck in a breath at her words, she knew where your uncertainty came from when allowing yourself to feel anything for the bruin's player, “but what if he doesn’t, you saw how -” you shake your head not willing yourself to go back there.

Both your phones vibrate in your hands but you only see yours,

‘Not letting you back out now hotshot because the only bunny I’ll be chasing is you tonight, hopefully the drinks taste as sweet as you.’

Natasha’s grin is evident as she closes in on you one arm going around you as she hooks he chin on your shoulder. “You see!” she points at the screen you still look at. “You’re not wrong about all the puck bunnies sporting his name wanting an inkling of his time, but he only has eyes for you, let him know you see him right back y/n.”

She’s grinning squeezing your arm as she reads your reply,

‘Hope you run just as good as you skate Barnes.’

Natasha throws her head back on a laugh as you pocket your phone reaching for your camera as you get into position the announcements popping up on the screen. “This game just got so much better!”

Red and blue lights flood the arena, the sea of Rangers fans standing tall, getting loud as their teams players flash across the screen. The players glide onto the ice from their opening, circling the arena as they hype their crowd. You’re quick to take notice of a few of the players lingering on your side egging the opposing teams' fans on. It’s short-lived as the screen changes, shades of black and gold flashing, the Bruins players coming onto the screen. The crowd behind you roars in excitement Natasha joining in as you lift your lens, they come in fast and hot as they circle the arena in the same manner. You’re quick to get shots in rapid succession, focusing in on a few personal shots at the player’s that are closest to you.

You spot Sam, the camera finding him easily as he does what he does best. He always gets a kick out of warming up the crowd, getting them riled up for the game. It puts him in the headspace he needs to ensure his team a win. Your camera spots Steve next, he’s gliding closer to where you and Natasha are, a grin pulls at your lips, heartwarming for your friend who gets herself closer to the glass. You capture the moment he comes to a stop in front of the Plexi-glass his gloved hand pressing against where her’s already rests waiting. You lean back a bit to get both of them in the shot you know Natasha would be requesting that photo by the end of the night.

��Kick some ass out there Rogers, give me something to celebrate tonight.”

The dirty blonde taps the glass throwing a wink her way, “Good luck out there Stevie!” you call out, as he turns to skate to where Sam is. A tap on the glass has you turning your head in the other direction, the crowd seemingly getting louder as Bucky approaches you from the opposite side of the glass. You bring your camera up to capture him, a breathtaking smile cutting his lips as he stares at you through the lens of your camera. You notice he doesn’t get as close as Steve does, but he only has eyes for you as he glides across, “this one's for you hotshot!”

“Good luck out there B!” You hide your smile behind the lens of your camera capturing the grin that splits his lips before he’s turning to the call of his name.

The referee's whistle kicks off the game, and its as good of a game as Natasha said it would be.

You don’t set your camera down for a single second of the game as you focus on the players on the ice and capturing ‘the shot’. You’ve managed to dodge a few pucks and players that have flown your way into the glass. It’s fast paced, brutal even as both teams fight to secure that win.

It’s down to the wire now, the crowd is tense as they watch their teams leave it all on the ice. Your cameras resting against your chest, Natasha gripping your hand in hers as your eyes follow the players. “C’mon c’mon, bring it home!” she pleads. You catch the moment Steve begins his move for the winning shot, your camera coming up to follow the game behind the lens of your camera. Bucky and Sam stay in Steve’s line of sight as he passes the puck to Sam, Sam then glides forward Bucky just a few feet off to his side to get the puck from the left defenseman. Capturing the moment Sam makes the pass, you hold your breath as Bucky swings, the buzzer sounds a split second after, the roar of the crowd loud behind you as Natasha jumps into your side her own yells of victory loud in your ear.

“He did it! Y/n he fucking did it!!” She screams shaking you.

You can’t find your voice as your camera shutters away, but the way your heart races, the smile parting your lips gives way to the emotion filling your chest.

“C’mon let’s go!” Natasha urges pulling you along to get the two of you out onto the ice.

You thought the excitement was palpable behind the glass, but it’s electric out on the ice with the celebrating team. You’re capturing as many images of the teams victory as you can before Natasha spots the guys urging you on. You let her go capturing the moment Steve gets her in his arms, the kiss the two share between them. You find Wilson next he’s all smiles at you and your camera as he glides towards you. You lower the lens momentarily to let him pull you in for a bone crushing hug, “you guys did it, I’m so proud of you Sammy!”

His lips press to your head, “it was all for you hotshot, I’ve got to say when your boys determined, he’s determined,” he grins as he pulls away to look down at you.

“It wasn’t just for me, it was for the fans, for the team.” You lamely argue.

His grin only grows, “yeah? Tell him that then.” And then he’s gliding off to the side towards where Natasha and Steve wait. Bucky stands feet away from you grin on his lips, his hair a sweaty mess, your camera comes up. Each shutter brings him closer to you till you have no other choice but to lower the device and take all of him in. He’s barely got his arms open enough before you’re eating up at the last foot between the two of you your arms going around him.

“You did it B, you won!”

His arms wrap tighter around you, his nose buried in your hair, “I told you hotshot, this one was for you and I meant it.”

You lean back taking in the right defenseman, there’s that smile, the one you always find directed at you. “You did, didn’t you,” you breathe unable to look away. “Guess the drinks really are on me tonight.”

He chuckles grin splitting his lips further, “don’t think that’ll be the only thing on you tonight,” he murmurs pulling you closer, his head lowering to yours, he stops just before his lips brush yours. “you gonna let me catch you hotshot?”

“Yeah B. I think I am.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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savanir · 22 days ago

Text

The Consequences

The comforting ticking of clocks fills the air, Danny cannot help himself but look at the many gigantic gears working in tandem each time that he pays Clockwork’s tower a visit.

“Alright, I’m here” Danny waves the green post it note around.

“Good,” Clockwork appears and gestures to an open door, “there is something I wish to show you, come”

Danny follows Clockwork into the room that appears to be an infinitely stretching hallway both left and right from him with the two of them in what he must assume must be the middle.

The young ghost takes a moment to process this and comes to the conclusion that this is just typical Infinite Realms ghost bullshit because clearly, logically, this is impossible.

There is a line on the hallway wall.

“Okay, what am I looking at”

“Time”

Danny takes a long deep breath of air before exaggeratingly rolling his eyes and giving Clockwork bombastic side eye, which the guy very rudely ignores.

“can you please be a little less vague Clockwork…”

the older ghost who has shifted into the appearance of a child grins at him, “very well, this line represents here, you could say it’s ‘my’ time.” a line which would sound ominous as hell if it were said by anyone other than the Ancient of Time itself.

“Did you call me here to tell me more about yourself” Danny quickly looks from Clockwork to the very important line and then quickly back to Clockwork “is this a bonding thing, are we ghost bonding? Do you show this to all your favorite ghosts?”

“Daniel” Clockwork has shifted to his elderly form.

Danny rubs the back of his neck, "It's really cool- in a way. I kinda do feel like there is more to it though.” It’s also a little underwhelming, just a infinitely stretching dark grey stone hallway with a line on the wall, He’d expect Clockworks time to be… well… okay, so he’s got no clue what he was expecting Clockwork’s time to look like but it wasn’t this.

One thing is for sure though, Danny is no longer thinking about touching the Time Line.

“you would be correct,” Clockwork has shifted to his adult form, “let’s get back on track, the reason why I am showing you this is this discoloration over here” Clockwork gestures where to look with his staff.

“the blackish bit?”

“Correct, this is what I like to call missing time” Clockwork huffs, “I used to not mind it, but times have changed” he’s got the young king to be to worry about now.

Danny is somewhat startled while taking a closer look at the small black bit of the time line, “you’re missing time!? … please do not ask me to go find it for you”

Clockwork chuckles, “no there is no need, I know quite well where it is.” then it’s not actually missing is it?

“alright uh… I’ll just ask- What happens when you’re missing time, do you just… black out? orrrr, like, just what’s going on here”

Child Clockwork starts to explain, “During that period the Infinite Realms will move without me.”

Adult Clockwork continues, “from what I have learned of these events in the past it’s safe to say something will soon happen in this section of the realms, something big and dangerous, the tower is protected against these events- by going into a form of stasis.”

Elderly Clockwork finishes, “like I said, in the past this was of no concern of mine, the tower functions as intended, preserving me and time itself as it should, but I worry for you Daniel.”

“I’ve called you here to warn you, mayhap you could find out what this danger is, not to prevent it, but to ensure you yourself will not get hurt.” preventing it is sadly no longer possible. with the dark coloration on the wall the event happening is all but set in stone.

“can’t you look forward to see what it is? or maybe give me a hint or something?”

“sadly not, for me the time is wholly missing, in the sense that it will happen, and so in a way has already happened, which means-” Danny quickly waves his arm around to prevent Clockwork from going into a time tangent and give him a legendary headache, “-which means you will not be able to help me now, or during, or after. I understand.” the boy then sighs, “I’ll look into it I guess”

“Be careful” Clockwork says gravely in his adult form.

Danny nods, and deep in his core he can feel the unspoken please.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

The young halfa really does try to figure out what might happen, what might be wrong, but it is incredibly hard when you have no clues what so ever.

Time passes, life goes on as usual- as it always does.

And then it starts.

Ripples go through the realms, an oppressive pressure building up. minor shades and blob ghosts scatter darting in every direction as long as it’s away from the perceived threat.

Not long after that there is strange crackling and rumbling, artifacts start behaving weirdly, powering up rapidly.

Walker’s prison becomes a fortress that he’s quickly losing control over locking everything and anything down tight.

Both Skulker’s and Undergrowth’s domains life grows rapidly. And although Undergrowth doesn’t mind Skulker certainly does, his jungle is his hunting playground, not the other way around! And that wouldn’t even be that much of a problem if his suit wasn’t completely on the fritz.

Desiree hides herself away deeply in her haunt, frightful of her own powers going absolutely haywire with every wish she grants, usually she enjoys the chaos- but this is rapidly getting out of hand.

Clockwork manages to catch Pariah’s keep going into its own magical automated lockdown before his tower does the same in its own way.

More and more ghosts decide to evacuate away from this corner of the realms, opting to temporarily stay somewhere else and return once whatever this mess is is over.

While all that is going on in the realms outside in the realm of the living Danny still has no clue what’s going on but his powers are freaking out more and more and he’s very glad that there are no ghost attacks because he’s not sure what will happen if he actually has to put some power in his abilities.

For now he’s simply not using them, instead deciding that while this is going on he’s just a regular living human boy with no special gifts, and you know, maybe it’ll all just blow over on its own and settle down.

So far any attempts on Team Phantom’s end to figure out what the hell is going on in the realms has led to nothing. They can obviously detect the surges of power slamming through the zone but they can’t find the origin.

The best they have got so far is that whatever it is has something to do with leylines. a suggestion brought up by Sam after Tucker mapped out some of the ripples and Sam recognized some of the shapes from her occult witchy books.

This sadly didn’t answer much and honestly only made Danny go, “This better not be some culty bullshit then”

and Tucker hissing, “bro don’t jinx it!”

When it all comes to a head it was just a normal average school day. After hearing them all out Jazz decided that the best course of action was to lock the doors of the portal just in case, and look further into ley lines later that day.

English class had a little outing planned, the whole class went on a short trip out of the city and into the forest for a special assignment.

Mr Lancer told them to find a scenery there that would inspire them, take a picture, and then write three pieces about it of various word counts, this was to teach them about word use and what not. Just regular shit, Danny wasn’t paying that much attention.

while trudging around in the woods, trying to avoid Dash and Kwan and find something to photograph does he feel it. It’s like his entire skeleton freezes over, a thin layer of frost over his entire insides that shatters right after.

Tucker yelps, “Danny what the hell was that!?”

Danny slaps his hands over his mouth, “I think that was my ghost sense? but like insane?”

“what”

Then a small portal opens and a tiny green blur speeds out and crashes right into Danny’s chest.

Danny can’t help but catch whatever it is and he quickly identifies it as Cujo when he can take a proper look.

The poor thing is shivering and whining and abrasions on his paws quickly clue the gang in that the little dog is hurt.

“Jezus, what happened to him?” asks Sam looking worried for the little guy.

Cujo whines and burrows down Danny’s jacket and into Danny's shirt, by now the A listers as well as Valerie have noticed something weird is going on.

once Valerie recognizes the puppy butt going down Danny’s shirt does she shout, “that vile beast! Let me at them! Don’t worry Danny I have something that will deal with that thing real fast, just stand still!”

Sam immediately jumps in front of Danny to shield him and Cujo.

“Uhm, that’s a puppy,” says Paulina derisively while Star next to her starts to coo as Cujo’s small head pops up from Danny’s neckline, snuggled in fully and clearly content to be and stay right where he is.

"Sooooo cute!” Star just wants to snuggle it, if only all ghosts were adorable little animals, then the whole ghost thing all the time wouldn’t be nearly so annoying.

“That thing is evil,” Valerie fumes.

“It’s a fucking puppy, Gray. What the hell is your damage” Paulina and Valerie viciously verbally tear into each other and Sam hates to admit it but she’s really glad for Paulina’s redirection of Val’s ire.

because she’s right, Cujo is just a puppy.

Mr. Lancer shows up noticing the commotion and increasing volume of Valerie and Paulina’s now borderline screaming match to put an end to all that.

And it’s right then, right when everyone is fully distracted that a flash happens in the distance quickly followed by a tremor through that they can feel in the ground.

Then the sound reaches them, a loud boom and right after dark clouds quickly rise up in the distance where the flash originated.

All of it happens incredibly fast but right after Mr. Lancer wastes no time to round them all up and head back to the meeting point

“Holy shit that came from Amity”

“Did the town blow up?!”

“I’m texting my parents”

"Hi? mom? Are you okay? yeah? what the fuck happened!?”

dread pools in Danny’s stomach, it grows heavier as he gets no response, it does not lift even slightly through Mr. Lancer’s general reassurances to the whole class, holding Cujo tightly to his chest helps a little, but the frantic feeling keeps surging through his body as the whole class gets into the bus to head back home.

Back in Amity it’s just chaos, police sirens, fire fighters, people out on the street, for once there are no ghost warnings blaring and it’s all the stranger for it, all the more worrying.

This isn’t a ghost attack, this is a normal explosion, and it’s so much worse because of it.

Everyone is used to ghost attacks, they aren’t used to normal explosions.

Once back in Amity things get a bit blurry for Danny, he vaguely remembers school, there was a lot of rushing of people, he vividly remembers constantly trying to contact his parents and Jazz and being incredibly worried and frustrated that they aren’t responding to anything.

He very clearly remembers that Mr. Lancer was there through all of it, when everyone else got picked up, Danny remembers both Sam and Tucker not wanting to leave him and go with their parents, but he’d… well there wasn’t really…

things stopped making sense when the police showed up specifically for him.

After that it was all just one big dark smear.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

The street is pulverized, his house and those adjacent to it are reduced to rubble.

The other buildings are badly damaged enough that the people have to be relocated until repairs are completed and they are confirmed to be safe, for the ones closest to the explosion there is a high likelihood that the structural integrity is compromised.

They might need to be torn down as well if that’s the case.

All the windows are smashed in a very wide radius around the initial point of the explosion, overall the scene looks like… like something out of a war documentary.

Danny doesn’t get to see much of that though, he’s put in a meeting room, or office, with some things to snack on and water to drink, both untouched, and Cujo in his lap.

The basement exploded, well, the lab or even more specifically, the portal exploded. But the local authorities don’t know about all that stuff so for them right now it’s just the basement.

And seeing as there is honestly nothing left, it's very possible that they are never going to realize there was a gateway to the realm of the dead under that house in the first place.

His mom and dad are… gone, as well as Jazz, she was most likely upstairs- studying.

Danny swallows and holds Cujo closer, nobody has bothered him about the ghost dog, everyone is just treating the little guy like a regular dog, Danny would appreciate it if he wasn’t completely numb.

He’s trying very hard to just keep it all together and not start spiraling cause this is all very painfully familiar, explosion, death, they are contacting Vlad, it’s taking really long.

But from this point forward he’s going to have to do everything in his power to not slip, this is it. He can’t afford- Cause Clockwork isn’t availa- is that it?

Is all this caused by the mess in the realms!?

Now Danny has to fight the thoughts that he should have done more, taken it more seriously, researched harder, he’d gotten an on time proper and clear warning for fucks sake! Why didn’t he- Why didn’t he-!?

But he did didn’t he? There was basically nothing to go off of, he tried really hard with the tools that he had and he had been making progress, it just wasn’t enough, he didn’t- couldn’t figure it out on time, and-

Why is it taking so damn long to contact Vlad and get this nightmare fully going he wants out of this room it’s getting suffocating!

The door opens, the nice sounding lady regretfully informs him that there seems to be more bad news, she brings it very gently and carefully, most likely trying to not re traumatize him again.

But it comes down to this, Vlad’s estate has blown up as well and nobody knows where he is, they haven’t found, ahem, him yet.

Danny swallows, that’s not how this is supposed to go.

“You think Vlad is dead?” he stammers out.

“We-” she starts clearly thinking very hard about how to word this, “Right now he’s considered missing, I’m afraid that any attempts to reach him hasn’t been answered but search and rescue-”

Danny blinks, he knows Vlad’s phone just has reception in the zone, and something as a portal explosion wouldn’t take him out, the guy should be chomping at the bit to come and get him. So he’s… incapacitated.

“-however, in the meantime the Foley’s have generously accepted to temporarily take you in, I have heard you are good friends with their son Tucker so-”

Danny perks up a little, and Cujo sleepily snuffles before settling in again, “that sounds good, as much as anything can sound good right about now”

The lady tries to hide her wince and gives him a pitying smile instead, both suck.

The next thing Danny knows he’s wrapped up in a tight hug by his best friend.

“You’ll get through this man, we’re here for you, Sam is in spirit here with us right now, if you’re very quiet you can hear her furious yelling at her parents to let her go so she can hug you too”

Danny gives him a watery laugh, “thanks, I just- fuck”

“yeah… yeah”

it’s bad, but it’s not like that time with Nasty Burger, he’s still got Sam and Tucker, Mr. Lancer too, who is certainly not stopping checking in with Danny either.

And Vlad is missing.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

The zone is a mess, it’s also devoid of life, more than usual, devoid of unlife might be a better way to put it?

Suddenly tracing the point where this mess came from is a lot easier, Sam came with the idea that the one or ones or thing or whatever that started all this probably did something to hide what they were doing.

They go past Clockworks tower, still encased in a perfect time still bubble, seeing none of the outer gears move even an inch is rather unnerving.

eventually they reach a gigantic neon green flaming crack in reality, or at least that’s what it looks like.

with Cujo’s aid they move back into the living world somewhat to the right of the reality tear.

It turns out that on the living side of things the tear is a big erupting neon green magma spewing volcano.

By Danny’s estimates the green is ecto adjacent but feels horrible wrong.

“so this volcano was connected to the realms somehow and when it erupted…” Sam shivers, “so natural disaster?”

Tucker looks from his PDA trying to make sense of the ecto energy readings and the still spewing volcano, “there is no seismic activity here, that volcano was dead, something triggered it”

“or someone” hisses Danny, “I’ll have a closer look around as Phantom, do not hesitate to contact me if you see someone or something”

Sam and Tucker both agree and Danny transforms and heads into the volcano.

the place is… weird, there are ruins, and some ritualistic areas, there is a huge mostly destroyed pool where new debris occasionally still falls into, causing a new explosion, Danny takes a few samples of the stuff in the pool to investigate later, cause even though it’s the same toxic green it’s clearly different from the stuff the volcano is spewing into the air.

Then he makes a quick sweep through the underground caverns and stumbles upon a sight he was not expecting.

Unconscious Vlad. Though upon closer inspection it’s revealed to Danny he’s very cold and stiff, so properly dead Vlad.

The idea is… ridiculous.

So is that it then? Vlad found some neat new place to fuck around with shit he shouldn’t and he found out in the most explosive way possible, and now there is some manner of ecto volcano or whatever, though probably not cause it just doesn’t feel like ecto… But anyway it all exploded in Vlad’s face and he died and caused another Pariah Dark level event through the Realms and somehow managed to also kill Danny’s parents and Jazz while he was at it.

Danny lifts Vlad’s corpse up and takes him with him to Sam and Tucker. Whatever happened down there happened, but Vlad’s corpse doesn’t deserve to just be left there to rot, just like Danny’s parents and Jazz, he didn’t deserve to die (fully).

Sam and Tucker startle violently when he carefully lays his body down nearby.

“Ancients! is he-” Sam takes a hesitating step forward

“I don’t sense anything from him anymore, like, there is supposed to be something there and there just isn’t so…”

“fucking hell” Tucker wipes a head over his face, “can we- I would really like to go home now, I think I’ve gotten enough of this place”

The trio agrees and after some back and forth they have decided that Danny will put Vlad’s corpse in a not yet combed through section of his estate. Search and rescue will find his body, and then… uhhh…

“I worry about everything after that when we get there, alright?” Danny says, and that’s that.

It feels… wrong, but none of them can come up with a better plan so…

It’s not long the next day that the same nice lady contacts Danny about Vlad.

Danny was expecting that.

What he wasn’t expecting was that eventually in that conversation a whole new bomb got dropped on him.

Because apparently Vlad has registered him as his heir, as in like heir to Dalv.co

And heir to a lot of money.

Time passes, the world is in magical chaos, the Justice League is solving it. Danny isn’t involved in any of it.

He just had a funeral and is now looking at the graves of his parents and his sister, and a little bit over there is Vlad.

Cujo is still with him, the little guy seems to have decided that he’s just not going anywhere without Danny so he has a dog now, he’s always wanted a dog.

There is a man a respectful distance behind him, apparently that’s Vlad’s butler, his butler now, since when did Vlad have a butler? Danny cannot remember there being a butler the last time he was forced to go to Vlad’s creepy mansion.

It’s starting to rain.

“Master Daniel,” oh no, he’s going to have to put an end to that right away.

Danny turns and takes a step to the guy, “please call me Danny”

“time stop”

Danny startles as everything around him stops moving, rain drops freezing in place.

The butler in front of him now looks a lot like Clockwork.

“First I want to give you my condolences, I am very sorry for your loss Danny” Clockwork looks well and truly remorseful, he’s genuine. There is a tiny part of Danny that instantly wants to rage and scream at him about the unfairness of it all. But Clockwork cannot do anything, not this time.

“And secondly,” he changes back into the very regular human butler appearance, “I’ll be around to aid you along this new path”

Danny blinks.

oh, well, okay then.

Clockwork introduces himself as Conrad W. Kronus and makes it very clear that to everyone that matters he’s always existed.

There will be no need to worry about any paperwork or whatever, from here on out Danny will get to stay at the other estate Vlad got in Amity so he could do his Major work more easily and he’ll get to live there with his butler and his dog.

That way he can finish school in Amity Park comfortably.

There is of course still the matter of Dalv.co to worry about but Clockwork reassures him that he doesn’t have to think about any of that just yet and to focus on grieving properly instead.

He says all that while driving them home in one of Vlad’s fancy cars, Danny didn’t think the old ghost would know how to drive at all…

It’s when they arrive and Cujo jumps out of his arms to explore his new home while Clockwork goes about his own maybe butlery duties while Danny kind of just stands in the main living room that a sudden realization comes to him.

“oh- this is… I’m like Bruce Wayne now”

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #batman #dp clockwork #tucker foley #sam manson #lazarus planet #savwrites #this is longer than I intended #after I wrote the soul sight Danny post I couldn't really let the whole thing about Lazarus Planet go #so you could say that in a sense this is a prequel to that #but it can also be read independently if you aren't a fan of Demon Twins #For anyone wondering what exactly happened to Vlad #He got approached by Ra's mom #aka Ruh #he teamed up with her for power reasons #and like a bunch of other evil adjacent magic users got eventually betrayed #and his juice was stolen and put in the shiny helmet of magic #sadly for Vlad he cannot survive without the ecto stuff #so unlike the other people he died #play stupid games win stupid prices #also it is impossible in his sense for the stuff to get put back into his corpse cause the helmet sorta exploded #and that's what caused the volcano to erupt #which send a shockwave of magic and ecto energy through the gigantic super Lazarus pit underneath the volcano #and that eventually reached the Fenton portal and Vlad's own personal portal #who then exploded

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jarofstyles · 2 months ago

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Dress

Hellooo. Here is a best friends sister sorta request- h is best friends with your brother 👀 and he’s tired of hiding 👀 I think this is a one off, maybe a two off if I’m feeling spicy.

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Words- 3k

Warnings- exhibitionism(don’t do stuff in public pls), dirty talk, soft dom!h, slight angst, slight mention of violence, people pleasing tendencies, etc etc etc

———

"I just wish things were different. I wish we didn't have to hide. I wish your brother knew about us. This sneaking around shit… it’s getting old. I don’t like having to pretend you aren’t the only fuckin’ thing I’m thinking about."

“I know…” The dark corner of the club was their solace. The humid air from the sea breeze leaked into the club around them and overly loud and slightly dated music being the unlikely reprove to having to keep up appearances through the last few days. Harry’s family always came with them on this vacation out to the islands and it used to be hell on earth. Each year she had tried her hardest to tamper down her crush, but now she didn’t have to.

Well, not unless their families were around.

With her brother in his own room, Harry had volunteered to take Y/N out as a ’chaperone’ of sorts and in turn, gave her a real taste of what it would be like if they didn’t have to hide their relationship- but she wasn’t exactly ready for the explosive way she knew her brother would react. He took things incredibly personally sometimes, but she was doing her best to try and not let it scare her too much. Harry was right- it was getting old. incredibly so, but it was hard to let go of her peacemaker mentality. She’d adopted it her whole life to keep the peace, diffuse situations, and now that she had finally found happiness with someone- it happened to be the one person that she knew he was going to freak out over.

“We need to tell him eventually, I know that. But I just…” Her fingers tangled in his necklaces, the alcohol making it easier to be emotionally vulnerable for once. “I don’t want to ruin it. Don’t want him to scare you away.”

Harry's heart ached as he looked at Y/N. He knew she was right, but the thought of hiding their relationship made him feel sick. Tired, even. He didn’t like having to watch his hands, where he was looking. He should be able to room with his girlfriend. It wasn’t like their parents hadn’t been rooting for it for ages, but he tried to understand where she was coming from.

Maybe it was a bit of the rose colored glasses keeping him from seeing what she did, but he didn’t feel the need to valiantly protect her brother from the knowledge that he was dating her. "I don't want to hide either, darling." He said softly. “M’not going to let anything come between us, especially not him." His hand slid up her thigh, wrapping around to the back of it and flexing his fingers.

"Your brother might piss me off when finds out, but only because he's probably, definitely going hit me. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise you that." His face grew more serious. "I don’t know how to make you understand that I am not afraid of him. I’ve been his mate for years. I know what he’s like but respectfully, he’s going to need to get over it and realize that I only have the best intentions..."

“I know.” She repeated, the humid air hitting her neck as she pushed bed hair off her shoulder, craning it to look up at him. It was unfair how handsome he was, with his curls sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck and the light shadow of facial hair since he had missed shaving yesterday. “I just… I know it’s selfish, but I want to spend tonight imagining he already knows and we don’t have to worry about anything. That no one would be all… shocked or even say anything if I do this.” Leaning up, she lightly pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before settling back on her feet, lips slowly separating. Harry made no move to pull away from her. If anything, he followed.

Harry's eyes shifted as he watched her, his heart picking in his chest. He loved the way she thought, the way she imagined a world where they didn't have to hide. Never once did he imagine himself to be one of those lovesick fuckers, but here he was again. Swooning over a goddamn kiss.

But really, who could blame him? He loved the way she kissed him, all soft and sweet and so damn gentle, like she was still a little hesitant he would say no even though they’d kissed dozens and dozens of times- stolen them right under everyone’s noses. As if he could ever say no- his body wouldn’t ever allow that. It was all greedy for her, had no capacity, no ability to deny her if anything when it came to telling his girl no. "Then let's imagine.”

Sinewy arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her back into their hidden corner, the music pumping around them and his body hiding her from the crowd.. "Let's imagine that your brother knows and he's okay with it. That he's even happy for us." He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin. “A little grossed out, because I think that you are… the most beautiful, incredible, sweet woman I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing… but that would only be the truth.”

“You really think that about me?” Her voice spoke solely to him. In their seclusion, people were still passing by, but no one paid attention. No one cared. To the rest of them, it looked like a young couple too loved up to keep hands off of each other. In most ways, that was the truth. Who knew invisibility could be such a gift at times?

Harry chuckled against her throat, his breath hot on her sticky skin. She smelled like sunscreen and that tequila sunrise she had accidentally splashed on herself, so a bit of orange juice and grenadine. Edible, summer, he wanted to sink into her and melt. "Of course I do." The man scoffed, his hands slowly roaming over her body as if he couldn't help himself. "And if your brother knew about us, I'd tell him exactly that. That I want you… and I want t’make you my girl properly. But that’s probably where it would stop, because I think he’d want to kill me if he knew what ran through my head when I get to see you.” Harry knew it was a good thing he wasn’t a mind reader, and that they’d gotten away with it for a bit so far. Yeah, he’d be taking a punch because he knew how Harry’s mind worked but he didn’t know that he fucking loved her- that this shit was different.

“Well… since we’re pretending all is right in the world right now…” Her hands splayed across his chest, chin tilted up as he pulled away from her throat. Starry eyes glazed over in love peering up just at him, not knowing she was the one he was orbiting. “Why don’t you enlighten me on the things you wouldn’t tell him?”

Harry's eyes glinted with amusement as he looked at her. "You really want to know, sweets?" He crooned, his voice low and sultry. "Alright then." His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him so she could feel just how much he wanted her.

"First... I'd never tell him that I think about you all the time. Like... right now, I'm imagining wrapping your legs around my waist and backing you up against that wall over there." His eyes flicked to the wall behind her before meeting her gaze again. "And how bad I want t’kiss you until you barely have any breath, make you borrow some of mine."

Y/N felt her breathing pick up, ironically enough, feeling trapped in the best way. Whenever Harry was around her she sort of wanted him to smother her, in a weird sort of way. it was hard to explain but close never felt close enough. Harry just had this sort of… way about him that had her itching to get close and bask in his own kind of warmth. It soothed her bones.

"N’then once you caught up, I'd keep kissing you until you were panting, so that cute little giggle that turns into that sexy moan that you do. Fuckin’ love that." he continued, his voice growing deeper as he showed little restraint with his words. It was easy to forget where they were when he got started. "And then... " He trailed off, leaning in to kiss her neck again, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I probably shouldn't tell you the rest."

“Tell me.” She whined, in a way only tipsy Y/N wouldn’t feel shame for. “Please, baby?” Something she’d noticed was how strongly he did react to those little pet names so she kept them sparse, but seeing how he reacted always acted as a reward. “You can tell me. I want to know.”

He groaned low in his throat at the nickname, nipping at her earlobe before whispering to her the rest of the details he had been keeping away, waiting for the coaxing she had to pry out of him. "I'd slide my hand up your pretty little skirt and underneath your panties, feel how wet you already are for me. Slip a finger inside, nice n’slow at first, until you start to rock against my hand."

“Yeah? In front of all these people?” She was slightly shocked- but slightly not. Seeing as Harry had really struggled with not being able to publicly show her affection, she should have guessed he’d be handsy in all scenarios if he has the full permission- but this was more than she had anticipated. Even more so… She liked it.

"Mhm..." Harry agreed, his hands slowly sliding up her thighs, bunching the hem of her skirt as his hands went underneath without a second thought. "And if you kept making those little noises like you do when I touch you, no one would even notice."

Y/N she didn’t always make the best decisions but she knew she wouldn’t regret anything with Harry. As cocky as the man could be, as arrogant as he may appear, getting to know him up close and personal the last few months that they’d evolved into more than what they were… she knew he was a good guy. He was the type of guy she wanted. If he wasn’t, she wouldn’t be risking the peace her life had for it.

But no one ever said she wasn’t impulsive. “It is loud in here.” His body did hide hers in the corner, making it easy to be bolder. “So you should put your money where you mouth is, and touch me.”

"Oh, I plan on it" Harry said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn't waste any time in sliding his hand fully up her skirt, his fingers brushing against her skin as he made his way underneath her panties. His pace was careful, his touch light as he slowly slid a finger inside of her. Then soft hitch of her breath made him hum felt her bury her face in his chest to muffle any noise she might make. All talk, his girl, but he didn’t care too much- not when he felt that slick hole around his digit after being essentially edged all week. He continued to slowly pump his finger in and out, his thumb gently circling her puffy clit.

Biting his lip as he felt her clench around him, he could feel himself grow harder at the thought of being the one to make her feel like this. He added another finger, still moving slowly but picking up the pace slightly. "I want to take you out, show you off. I'm so tired of hiding you." Harry whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed a kiss to her temple as he continued to move his fingers inside of her. "I want everyone to know that you're mine. Don’t want to have t’sneak off in vacation just to play with my girl’s cunt. Should’ve been making you cum the whole time." Harry's other hand came up to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so he could kiss her properly. His eager tongue slipped into her mouth as he continued to move his fingers inside of her, feeling her wetness coat his fingers.

She was clinging to him, her nails digging into his arms as she tried to keep quiet. Her breath was coming in short gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Face buried in his neck, her teeth sank into his skin to muffle her moans as he felt her shake against him. Y/N had never dabbled in public play before, and she knew no one could see, but the thrill of it all had her more wet than she had anticipated. Sure, the girl talked big game but she didn’t know what she would do if she had actually got caught being touched like this. Add in the fact that Harry’s tank top hugged him perfectly, his tattoos contrasting his skin, the broad shoulders and brush of his facial hair against her sensitive skin had her feeling drunk.

“That feels so fucking good.” She mewled, unsure if she wanted his mouth to keep her quiet or his chest.

"Shh..." Harry hushed her, his voice low and warning. "You have to be quiet, baby. Know it’s loud but y’don’t want anyone t’hear you." As much as he liked that idea, he knew his girl. That was something they’d need to work up to. Just feeling her dripping down his knuckles as he fingerfucked her was shocking enough, so he was more than pleased with this. His face nuzzled against her neck, his stubble scratching her sensitive skin. "Wrap your arms around my neck. Lean back against the wall."

Putting her trust in him was easy, or maybe it was the pent up sexual tension she hadn’t been able to release all trip as she did as he asked. The position made it look like a couple drunkenly making out, but his hand angled the farthest from the dancing drunk crowd was working slowly under her skirt.

Harry took advantage of her new position, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of her as his thumb continued to rub against her center. He felt her squirm against him, her arms tightening around his neck as she buried her face in his chest once more to muffle her moans. "Good girl... keepin’ so quiet for me... " He praised, his fingers picking up pace as he fought to keep himself calm. He glanced around quickly, making sure no one was paying attention to them, before he gently tugged her leg up, resting it on his hip.

The man had been good this whole trip. He’d played by her rules, trying his best to keep prolonged eye contact to a minimum, not leaning into her too much, not touching her, trying to act as he had in the past- but it was borderline impossible. Not with the way he felt about her. He wanted to rub all over her like a cat, wanted to wake up with her in the pretty room with the balcony and be the one to order her morning coffee. He was so tired of being good. In all honesty, the man didn’t care who found out anymore, not when being with her felt like this. Her little cunt gushing over his digits, dripping down the back of his hand as he curled his fingers just so.

"You're soaking through to my wrist..." Harry growled lowly, his other arm banded around her waist to keep her upright as her knees grew weak. He could feel her tensing up, her breath hitching as her body grew warmer. "Want you t’let go for me, love..." He curled his fingers one more time, pressing against her spot over and over as he rubbed his thumb in tight circles over her clit. Her whole body shuddered against him, her legs trembling as she tried to hold herself up. "You’re right there, baby. Can feel it. Let it go for me, my sweet girl... "

Harry buried his face in her hair as he felt her clamp down around his fingers, her body trembling slightly as she came silently against his hand. Her nails dug painfully into his shoulders as she bit down on his chest to keep quiet, her whimper muffled against his skin as she rode out her high. He held her leg tightly against his hip, his arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright as her body shook with her orgasm. His fingers remained buried inside her, his fingertips gently stroking against her spot as he kept her on edge, prolonging her orgasm the best he could.

Pulling her face up, he dragged her mouth back to his. Their kiss was sloppy and desperate, Harry's tongue pushing into her mouth as he devoured her whimpers, groaning in response as he felt her cunt clenching rhythmically around his fingers. One of his favorite feelings, his favorite tastes. The only ways it could be better would be with his tongue on her clit or his cock inside of her. His hand shifted, tangling in her hair, holding her head still as he ate at her mouth, swallowing her noises as he kept his fingers buried inside her trembling pussy.

"Shh, baby... I've got you... " Harry cooed, his voice low as he gently worked her down. Slowly removing his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and licked her taste off of them before he lowered her leg back down to the ground.

“We’re telling him. Tomorrow.” He mumbled, wiping his spit soaked fingers on his shorts. “I’m not spending the rest of this trip with you not in my bed because he’s gonna have a fuckin’ tantrum. He’ll get it over, baby.”

Looking down at her, his eyes softened significantly as he gazed at her flushed face and messy hair. "You're staying in my bed tonight. I’ve gone long enough without it. Everything else, we’ll figure out in the morning."

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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago

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Alley Drunk!Danny AU- Part 3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4]

“Have you considered anger management classes?”

The Batman turned sharply, cape flaring out as he raised his weary fists in preparation for another fight. Only to pause, as he caught sight of a bedraggled man leaning against the pockmarked, water worn, Gotham variety stone of the abandoned post office. Non-hostile. Scent of booze, not strong enough to be fresh, but prominent enough for him to clock the stranger as a habitual drinker. Young. Sympathy softened Batman’s stance. Still, Batman kept his guard up. Good thing Robin was benched, he was off his game today if he hadn’t noticed the young man.

“Nevermind. You run around as a bat. Clearly anger management classes aren’t on your to do list.”

“What do you want.”

He’s young. Not as young as Robin, but… enough that it made Batman gentle his approach. The young man pushed away from his spot, fearlessly slouching towards him. Casual. Unafraid. How curious. Even Gothamites were wary around him, correctly assuming and witnessing his takedowns of Gotham’s Underbelly.

“You do this a lot, don’t you?” The bedraggled young man asked, head tilted neutrally at the bodies strewn around the Batman.

“Hm.”

“Why do you never swing by Crime Alley?”

Batman’s guard faltered at the blunt question, but he regained it quickly.

“I do.”

“You don’t.” The man disagreed amiably. He reached down towards the victims but Batman grabbed his arm in an iron hold before he could rifle through their belongings. The young man laughed and pulled back agreeably. “Is it classism, why you avoid us? The poor isn’t good enough to deserve protection from Gotham’s knight?”

“No. I do this for Gotham. All of Gotham.”

“…Well, there’s always room for improvement, I guess?”

The stranger pulled back and broke Batman’s hold, which had the vigilante sharply focusing onto the man. The stranger was strong, despite how skinny and starved he looked. Few people could casually break his hold and tonight, he added one more to the tally.

“You should tell your sponsor to look into creating job opportunities in Crime Alley. The problem isn’t actually the crooks,” the man told the vigilante, gesturing around them. “That’s just the symptoms. The actual problem is the poverty.”

“I know.”

“And yet, you still avoid Crime Alley.”

“Who are you.”

The man began walking away, throwing a dry “The Crime Alley Drunk, apparently,” behind his shoulder. When Batman took to the roofs to track him, the man had thoroughly slipped away.

“Agent A, did you catch that?”

“Yes, Batman. It appears you’ve gotten the wool pulled over your cowl by a rather mysterious youngster.”

Batman heard a younger snort of laughter. Robin. Who was supposed to be doing homework.

“Please stop making fun of me.” Batman sighed half heartedly.

“Not on your life, B.” Robin chirped.

——

“Ya talked ta Batman?!” Jason crowed at him, excited. Danny had done as promised and met him at the chili dog stand at the correct time, which increased his credibility in Jason’s eyes.

“Sure did. He knocked out like, five guys by himself. It was pretty cool.”

“Fuckin’ woah.”

“Right?” Danny smiled tiredly at the kid. He stayed up all night to pull his shit together, and outright bought an apartment for them to stay in. That safe had a lot of cash, after all. “Come on, kid. We’re heading back to base but before that, we gotta pick up a few things.”

“Like what?” Jason asked suspiciously.

“Like curtains in the color you like, groceries, and blankets and bedding, and general cleaning stuff.” Danny ticked off a finger per item.

“We killin’ someone?”

“What? No!”

“Ya said general cleaning stuff!” Jason defended himself. The raggedy kid peered at Danny cautiously, and brightened when Danny only snorted in amusement.

“Oh my ancients, you Gothamites. No, those are for like, actual cleaning. You know, for the apartment I just got you.”

Danny missed the burn of booze, but when Jason looked at him like the child he’s supposed to be had Gotham’s streets never laid its claim on him, Danny didn’t want to fail the kid.

Even if the kid thought he was buying chemicals to clean up a body. He’s the son of two mad scientists, he knows how to get rid of a body, obviously. As if he’d need chemicals to begin with, honestly. His ghost powers are quite versatile.

“An apartment?”

“Yep. It’s shitty, but it’s got all the utilities and I kind of miss having warm water to shower with.”

Jason straightened and trotted alongside the Alley Drunk with a little more purpose. People avoided them. Danny lead the kid to the apartment, handing him a key and letting him explore the sparsely decorated place.

“So, first thing’s first. You go shower. Then, we’ll go shopping for clothes, register you for school, get your school supplies, and grab some lunch. Not necessarily in that order, but ya know. And cleaning supplies.” Danny grinned.

Jason whipped his head around from where he was closely inspecting the windows for insulation- like Danny would let the actual kid live somewhere with drafty windows- and spluttered. Hope, fear, uncertainty battled across Jason’s face as he tried to say something. Danny watched Jason open and close his mouth several times before he finally managed to whisper something.

“I- I c’n go to school?”

“Yes. You are, in fact, legally required to do so, Jason.”

A pause as the kid grapples with the idea, of something he didn’t think he’d ever get to do. A grin bloomed over his face as he realized Danny’s sincerity.

“Then what are we waitin’ for?!”

“For you to shower. C’mon grubby, the shower’s that way. Towels are in the cabinet, and there’s some extra clothes in here,” Danny tossed Jason the plastic bag of clean kid’s clothes he bought from Gotham’s version of Walmart, a store that somehow had the energy of a Tesco and a Denny’s parking lot.

“Fuc- I mean- yeah! On it!”

——

Clearing out the drafts- feel free to continue ^^

#me the entire time writing this: Justice! for Gotham! Batman needs to go back to the batcave!#alley drunk Danny #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #dc x dp #dcxdp #jason todd #bamf danny phantom #Danny: Batman u got issues #alfred Pennyworth #alley drunk! Danny AU

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littjara-mirrorlake · 5 months ago

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The Color of Hope: Ambition, Necromancy, and Black Mana

Black is one of the most misunderstood colors in Magic: the Gathering, not least because it appears on the surface to be so straightforward. Look at the most iconic black cards of Magic and you'll see deals with demons, necromancy, mass destruction and cruelty and suffering–the trappings of classic fantasy evil. Even the color's symbol itself is a skull, a universal signifier of death and danger.

And in early Magic that seemed to be all it was. White was the color of Fantasy Good, black was the color of Fantasy Evil, and the rest of the colors were... fire magic? Elves? Whatever odd but intriguing skeleton affairs are implied by Time Walk?

Gradually, though, Magic deepened as both a game and a storytelling medium. The color pie grew into itself as a system of complementary philosophies, archetypes whose associated aesthetics were only part of the full picture. Their arrangement around the wheel, below, is highly deliberate; neighboring colors are said to be allies with a high degree of philosophical and mechanical overlap, while colors on opposite sides of the pie are known as enemies, more likely to disagree on fundamental levels.

Black stopped merely representing capital E Evil and became the color of striving for power; unlike its peers, black felt that nothing, least of all morality, could prevent it from seizing what it wanted. Mark Rosewater's 2015 article about black emphasized the color's focus on the self:

"Black's philosophy is very simple: There's no one better suited to look after your own interests than you... Many costs require the sacrifice of others for your own advancement. Because it puts itself first, black is always willing to make this trade. The weak must fall for the strong to thrive." -Mark Rosewater

At its worst, black is an exploitative, amoral color that prioritizes itself at the expense of all others, allowing the "weak" to fall and scorning the very idea of compassion. Rosewater writes that black is "always willing" to trade others for itself. And these can certainly be parts of black's philosophy, when taken to its worst possible extremes, but they're far from the entire story.

Over time, Magic's outlook on black gained nuance. Magic story introduced protagonists like the necromancer Liliana Vess, whose craving for immortality, seemingly exploitative nature, and demonic deals called back to the oldest portrayals of black–and yet she was not one-dimensionally evil. She underwent character development over the years, learning the value of reclaiming herself and standing beside others, and at no point did she become any less mono-black for it. Remember her; we will come back to Liliana and her story later.

In addition to the usual death and decay, black cards began to feature a theme of relentless devotion. On the plane of Eldraine where each color represents a virtue, black's is persistence, explicitly as important as any other color. On the plane of Ikoria, the love between bonder and beast pulls Winota back from the brink of death. Wherever this Oathsworn Vampire printing is set, its flavor text is quintessentially black. It's the same self-driven attitude as before, but cast in a different light: black is nothing if not persistent when it's got its heart set on something (or someone) it cares about. Nothing, least of all the grave, will keep it down. After all, black will always come back for its own.

These newer cards uncovered the true face of black as a color capable of both great love and harm (sometimes even the latter for the sake of the former), and suggested a tantalizing new thread: perhaps putting yourself and yours first isn't all that bad, necessarily. Black is a deeply protective color; it says you don't just have to accept what you're handed, it's okay even to be furious about it (hello, ally color red), but let that galvanize you to do something about it.

Vraska, a gorgon who faces extreme discrimination on her home plane of Ravnica, triumphs by reclaiming herself, gorgon powers and all–and even more radically, loving herself. She displays traits often considered the purview of white and green, such as a love of home and a drive to elevate the oppressed, but they are all filtered through the lens of her black alignment. Vraska staunchly refuses to deny herself or her people, the Golgari Swarm, of their value. Nor does she allow law or propriety to prevent her from championing them by any means necessary–even if that means cold-blooded murder, or aligning herself with a villain like the Planeswalker Nicol Bolas.

"[Vraska] thought of Mazirek, of the kraul, of the rest of the Ochran assassins and the malignant Jarad who reigned with casual ruin over the most downtrodden of the downtrodden. She remembered her years of isolation, and the heinous cruelty of the Azorius, and how no group deserved to suffer as much as those who would subjugate her own. Eliminating that hell was all she ever wanted." -The Talented Captain Vraska, Alison Luhrs

Like Vraska, black loves fierce and hard, willing to break any taboo for the sake of those it cares about. And it whispers, the entire way through, you are enough. You deserve better. No matter what others may say or do, you are enough.

"If I am to be met with disrespect, then I must first love myself with a fierceness no fool can take away." -Vraska in Pride of the Kraul, Alison Luhrs

Even black's "ruthlessness" isn't as fundamentally cruel as it appears, centering a passion for problem-solving (shared by its other ally blue) instead of a blunt disregard for others.

"People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think it means 'mean.' It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it." -K. A. Applegate

All of this comes together to make a black a color not of evil but of strength, integrity, and persistence. And that's all well and good, but I'm going to take it even further and put forward a new proposition: that black is the color of hope.

Of the nine mono-black Magic cards with "hope" in their names, all but Liliana portray black as an instrument of hope's destruction. This is, once again, black's flaw taken to its extreme–crushing others to achieve its own ends–but neglects black's own relationship with hope.

Black, more than any other color, requires hope to stay alive.

For black to persist, it must believe in a light at the end of the tunnel, a future in which its goals are realized. As long as it does, it will endure any hardship, walk through fire, and turn reality itself upside down on its way there. Primal, desperate ambition is the engine of hope that burns at the heart of black, keeping it always one step ahead of stagnation. Bitter and stubborn, black believes tomorrow will come because there is no other choice. After all, for black to relinquish hope is to let itself wither, regress, and die–an unacceptable outcome.

Thus, it is monumentally difficult to strip black of hope. That only makes it all the more crushing when it happens, when black contends with the idea that there is nothing it can do.

Black's deepest, darkest fear is helplessness.

Like any mono-black character, Liliana Vess is driven at her core by a seething, desperate hope. When Liliana first unlocks her necromantic power, it is out of a sheer refusal to allow her ill brother Josu to die, even when the esis root that would cure him is destroyed by enemy witches in an undead-raising ritual. She defies her previous training as a healer, which taught her only to take the safe path, in favor of a higher-risk and higher-reward approach: stealing life from the witches themselves to restore power to the esis root she needs. It is her knowledge that her brother needs her, and her sheer stubborn will to succeed, which allows her to defeat the witches against steep odds.

"Six foes, and Liliana stood alone. But Josu's life depended on her, and the power blossoming within her was more than enough." -Liliana's Origin: The Fourth Pact, James Wyatt

Tragically, however, Liliana's attempted cure goes horrifically wrong, transforming Josu into an undead being plagued by eternal suffering. In his pain, Josu attacks Liliana. For a while Liliana holds out hope, finding the power to fight back while she determinedly searches for a spell to reverse the harm she's done. It is when she realizes this isn't possible that her strength falters.

"All this time, she had believed… that she could turn the power of death to the service of life and health. That a healer should use every tool at her disposal. But Josu was the result, a horrible fusion of life and death, and all her spells meant to manipulate the life force of the living could do nothing to harm the dead." -The Fourth Pact

Liliana learns that even her own dark magic, fueled by determination, cannot solve the problem she's created. She discovers the hard limit of her willpower, and the despair of this discovery is what causes her Planeswalker spark to ignite.

At this time Planeswalkers are as gods, immortal and near-omnipotent. Liliana spends decades enjoying this affirmation of her capability before the Mending strips her and all her peers of their power, reducing them once again to mortal mages.

"Then the Multiverse reshaped itself, robbing her—and every other Planeswalker—of the godlike power they once had wielded. Some called it the Mending, as if something broken had been repaired, but to Liliana, it seemed the opposite. It broke her beyond any hope of repair." -The Fourth Pact

Once again, it is Liliana's fear of helplessness and her refusal to accept it that drives her to push beyond the bounds of propriety–this time, to make a pact with Nicol Bolas and four demons to maintain her immortality. It is not enough for her merely to delay death; she requires the security of knowing she is fully beyond its reach, that she will never be helpless before it again as she was with Josu.

"Holding death at arm's length for whatever years are left to me? No, that's not enough. I want to be free of its shadow." -Liliana in The Fourth Pact

Black isn't like its enemy colors white and green, which are superficially associated far more often with hope. Unlike white, it doesn't believe that conviction, justice, and community will bring about rightness. Unlike green, it doesn't trust in the wisdom of the world or the natural order. Black believes that nothing will change unless you make it change; ultimately, black's self is the only one it can trust to bring about the world it needs. In addition, black lacks its enemies' idealism. Instead, it strives to be a pragmatic realist, making a final assessment of defeat all the more definite and crushing.

While white and green are more amenable to finding hope and holding it aloft as a banner, black claws hope desperately to its chest with shredded, bloody fingernails. Every ounce of hope black has, it tore by itself from the clutches of an uncaring world.

Ironically for such a self-driven color, black's fierce hope is the greatest asset it can provide to others–on its own terms, of course. It was Liliana who turned the tide of battle against the Eldrazi titan Emrakul, defiant in the face of cosmic despair. And when Nicol Bolas made his bid to return to godhood, using Liliana's necromancy to command his undead hordes, Liliana finally turned against him. In reclaiming her power, so too did she use it to free her fellow Planeswalkers from Bolas' assault. Her fear of helplessness no longer shackled her to him; agency and autonomy were hers at last.

The triumph of black, its moment of ultimate victory, is the hard-won fulfillment of its hope.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light." -Dylan Thomas

An aetherborn, railing against the shortness of their natural lifespan, constructs a new body for themself with their own bare hands. An artificer's grief over her lost companion causes her to push invention to its limits. A young girl who loves her brother calls on the darkest of powers to save him. As it turns out, necromancy–that original thematic keystone of black–is only one of black's many, many refusals to let go of love and hope once it has them, even in the face of the ultimate end.

Time and time again, black–in love with life, ablaze with hope–looks the Grim Reaper in the eye and tells it: "Not today."

#mtg #magic the gathering #color pie #black mana #liliana vess #vorthos #literary analysis #war of the spark #magic origins #planeswalker #nicol bolas #vraska #necromancy

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navybrat817 · 3 months ago

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😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

credit here

Look at him!

Handsome and Beautiful

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to look good for you. He also wants dessert.

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Established relationship, slight insecurities, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: In the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky scowled at this reflection in the mirror as he studied himself. He couldn't seem to get his hair quite right no matter how much he tousled it. He also wasn't sure when he got wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, but age and general stress would do that. Since when did he care so much about his appearance? He hadn't since the 40's.

Until you came along.

“Hey there, handsome,” you smiled from the bathroom doorway. “Looking good.”

A touch of heat went through his cheeks from your compliment. “Why aren't you dressed yet, beautiful?”

“I need your help putting on my dress,” you said all too innocently as you strolled into the room in just your bra and underwear, the color matching the shade of his suit jacket.

Bucky cursed under his breath when he took in the sight of you. “That's what you need my help with?” He questioned. He knew exactly what you needed help with. You'd tell him you have a few minutes before you had to leave and urge him to take off his suit jacket, roll up his sleeves, move your underwear aside, and take what he wanted from you. He wouldn't just take from you. He'd give and give. "My naughty wife.”

“I'll always need your help, my equally naughty husband,” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek and moving a few strands of his hair. Now he looked perfect. All he needed was your touch. “And don't think I didn't notice you deflecting my compliment.”

“I didn't deflect,” he argued. He sure as hell did. Maybe he could consider himself handsome by some standards, but you were a goddess. Some higher being smiled upon you the day you were born and knew you'd be a gift to the world. His world.

“You did and I demand a photo as payment,” you said, crossing your arms when he scoffed. He wasn't one for taking selfies or whatever the hell people called them. “Please, Mr. Barnes? For me?” You added in a softer tone, looking into his blue eyes in the mirror.

He couldn't resist you if he tried.

“Fine, Mrs. Barnes. For you,” he said, sighing as he took out his phone. Putting a hand on his hip, he held up the phone to take the picture you so demanded. “And you were right. This looks better without the tie.”

“I know best,” you teased, cringing slightly when he snapped the picture. “Oh, Bucky…”

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately when he showed you the image. Did you not find him attractive? “You said this was a good color on me.”

“It is. You really do look handsome,” you assured him, making him breathe easier. “But, my god, when are you going to get a case for your phone?”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling. Oh, maybe that was why he had wrinkles around his eyes now. Because of how much you made him laugh and smile. “When I find one I like,” he replied, knowing how much it drove you crazy that he didn’t have a protective case on his phone.

“We have already had to replace your phone twice,” you reminded him as he snaked an arm around you and pulled you against him. “No, don’t you dare distract me. If we have to get you another phone, I-”

“But you said you needed help getting your dress on,” he pointed out, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your fingers gripped the lapel of his jacket as his lips lingered, making him smile. “Don’t you want my help?”

“I do,” you whispered, whimpering when he kissed the other corner and gripped your hip. It was sounds like the ones you made that made him appreciate his super soldier senses. “But-”

“Or maybe we can focus on me fucking you in front of the mirror instead,” he smirked, wondering how wet your panties were now. “C'mon. We have a few minutes before dinner. Let's have dessert first,” he said, finally bringing his lips to yours and snapping a photo when you melted into the kiss.

Maybe he wasn’t a fan of selfies overall, but he’d take as many as you asked him to and would continue to create many happy memories with you.

We still need a breeding fic with these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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moonchildstyles · 2 months ago

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elan for halloween would be a dream♡ i can see her in the prettiest costume everrrrr and h just going along with everything, hearts in his eyes👼🏼🪽🦢maybe even a private moment together, in costumeeeee🤍

wordcount: 5.5k+

—————

"No, totally... For sure, it's going to be so much fun. Just text me when you get back to where you're staying... Yeah, I still have your location. Do you have mine?... Perfect, good. I'll text you later, but if you need anything just let me know... Love you, Fran."

Harry watched on the end of (Y/N)'s bed as she spoke into her phone, hands wandering through her professionally tousled hair. While he was aware of what she was muttering to her best friend, not a single word processed when he had the distraction of her reflection in front of him.

While he was getting a stellar view from behind her, the dressing gown she had draped over her shoulders hid the details of her halloween costume. This year, one of her three (three!) planned costumes was a Playboy Bunny. That was the bodysuit she had on tonight, complete with a puffed tail over her rear and a headband with bunny ears hanging off of her arm. The night's plans included making an appearance at a party thrown by a friend of a friend, the kind where her hair stylist was called and a makeup artist had been given the privilege of painting her face.

She was left with big blown out hair, her face dewy and smooth with the prettiest blush dusting her cheeks. The pink flush was extra concentrated on the tip of her nose, giving the illusion of a bunny's nose without having to draw a button nose on her skin. Her lashes were long and fluttery, grazing her brow bone and brushing her cheekbones. Sparkling gloss had been swiped over her lips, playing against the shimmery white corset cinching her waist. In lieu of the traditional bowtie around her neck, she had a black choker tied around her throat with a tiny white bow stitched to the front. Her legs were silken smooth under a pair of sheer nude tights, leading to a classic pair of pointed black stilettos. Harry could already see her begging to carry her around so she wouldn't have to keep walking in those shoes.

The champagne colored dressing gown draped over her form was only loosely tied at her waist, creating a deep V to show off stretches of her costume. It was hard for Harry to keep his focus when he looked at her. Her attention was miles far away from him, but he still felt drawn to her—unable to look away.

But, he reminded himself, he had to be on his best behavior for the night. He wasn't going out with her as her partner, dancing and drinking with her friends. He was going out with her as her bodyguard on duty, his sole purpose being to protect her to ensure she was safe amongst the throngs of almost-celebrities and paparazzi with blinding cameras.

Though the real severe threats to (Y/N)'s well being had all but vanished once Damien had been removed from her vicinity (there were rumors he was relocated to Spain, the cover being that there was some internship with some artist he admired. Harry had a feeling Damien fled the second it reached him that (Y/N) knew and wasn't afraid of letting others know as well), there was always the worry of her walking into the lion's den that was the media. Especially at parties like these, where one drink would be exaggerated to chugging a whole keg, and photographers weren't afraid to push and pull for the ultimate shot. More than anything, he wanted to be there; to be a physical reminder that she wasn't alone and she had him on her side.

"Right, right," (Y/N) muttered, rooting through the small purse she was taking with her for the night, "No, for sure. No, I'll text you... Okay, love you. Bye."

Harry was surprised to see (Y/N) actually end the call given the fact that they'd said goodbye at least three prior times only to continue talking. Dropping her phone in her bag just as she found the lipgloss she'd been digging for, he watched as she took in a deep breath, breasts swelling over the balconette cut of her bodysuit.

"Sorry," she sighed, meeting his eyes through the mirror with the applicator of her lipgloss dragging over her plush mouth, "I didn't think we'd talk that long."

"'S alright," he murmured, forcing his gaze from the soft parts of her up to her eyes, "I figured you'd be talking for a while. I don't mind."

Truthfully, this only gave him more and more time to get in all of his gazing and admiring and staring before he would have to be the consummate professional in public. He'd drink her in now in hopes of holding himself over until the early hours of the morning when they would finally be alone again.

Rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss, (Y/N) pursed her lips with a pop. Harry had to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head as he watched. He forced himself to straighten his posture when she turned her gaze to his, no longer using the mirror as the middleman.

"I wish you'd dress up with me tonight," she pouted, canting her head just right with the light catching her pinkened nose.

"I know," he sighed, standing up from where he'd been sat at her glamorous vanity. "Maybe another time—I've got to work tonight, remember?"

She only rolled her eyes at him, a pinch of attitude twisting her features. "Sure, sure. Because someone's going to fight me in the middle of a night club."

Harry only looked at her with a deadpan look. She knew better than most just how easy it was for tensions to boil over in the dark like that, especially when alcohol was involved. He wasn't really in the mood to imagine her being the subject of a grainy cell phone video with someone attempting to pull her hair out or pour a drink over her head.

"Fine, I know," she relented after only a moment of his silence, "I just think it would be cute if we were both bunnies or something. I'd even let you pick if you wanted something specific."

He shook his head, his features finally cracking when he pulled her closer with an arm looped around her waist. "I just want whatever makes y'feel pretty. We'll match another time, but y'get to be the center of attention tonight."

She softened immediately in his hold, reaching for him with the sleeves of the dressing gown sliding over her shimmering skin. "Okay. Thank you, H."

Harry didn't bother with a response before he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers. The tip of his nose grazed the top of her own as he tasted the watermelon tint to her gloss. If it were up to him, he would continue this up until Sully arrived and they would be forced on their way, but he'd been in trouble one too many times to know that he wasn't going to get away with messing up her makeup before an event like this.

Drawing away, the light caught a stray smudge of her gloss caught on the corner of her lip. With her face tipped up towards him like a flower looking for the sun, he used the pad of his thumb to lightly swipe away the offending smudge. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his face, tracing the planes and lingering on his lips, where he was sure there was the mark of her kiss glistening in the low light.

"I think I want to come home early tonight," (Y/N) whispered with Harry's thumb pausing just at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah?" he pressed, raising his brows as he looked down at her. Carefully, he maneuvered his arm around her waist until he was pulling the headband of bunny ears from the crook of her elbow.

"Yeah," she breathed, no further explanation leaving her lips once Harry tipped her head back.

He pushed the headband over her hair, leaving the volume of her hair to flare out just behind the massive ears now stationed on the top of her head. (Y/N) didn't move, only looking up at him.

"'M sure we can make that happen, sweet girl."

Making the hard choice for the both of them, Harry unravelled his arms from around her and took a step back to allow clear air into their lungs.

"Finish getting ready, and I'll let Sully know we're almost ready."

With that, he exited her bedroom, knowing he would need a second to recuperate if either of them had a chance of acting normal for the night. He could feel (Y/N)'s eyes following him all the way out.

—————

Harry shifted, adjusting his stance as his pants felt entirely too tight as he kept his eyes stitched to the Playboy Bunny across the room.

It was criminal the way she was able to take all of the air out of his lungs when she was doing the most simple of things, when her attention was far from on him. Just dancing with her friends (and the hangers- on that would no doubt be posting about these interactions in the coming days) was enough to have him crossing his arms over his chest and clenching his jaw. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she fluffed her hair, played with the bunny ears on her head with a grin aimed at her friends, and ran her hands over the curves of her body.

He had forced himself into his work mindset before they'd gone out, just for those expectations to be cast aside. Of course, with his eyes on her, he was able to keep track of who was approaching her, and who was getting a touch too close, but that didn't mean that was his priority at the moment. He was too entranced with watching the way her hips moved, the swell of her breasts over the cups of her corset, the length of her legs in the silky tights. Every time the light shined just right over her face, and he caught the pink blush on her nose, he wondered how long he would have to kiss her until that blush became real.

Photographs and videos were taken of her as she had fun, some where he was sure there could be a glimpse of him simmering in the background. He wondered if there would be any articles picking apart his body language.

Despite how much fun she was having, Harry wanted to cling to her earlier request of heading home while the night was still young. Truthfully, he doubted he could make it much longer with just watching her. His hands were already fisted under his arms.

A small smile touched the corner of his lips, cracking the stoic exterior, when he saw her twirl on the dance floor. She had her hands in her fluffed hair, and a bubbly smile on her features. He could just barely hear the melody of her laugh over the sound of the music and the volume of the chatter. The faint traces of her remaining lip gloss sparkled in the party lights, drawing his gaze to her mouth like a faithful spotlight.

Harry barely saw the others in her circle playing along, dancing to the unfamiliar song thumping through the speakers. With the way (Y/N)'s body moved, the rolling of her hips, the way her breasts bounced against the tight corset, there was no way he was picking up on any details of the surroundings; no one could ask him the color of anything with the expectation of getting the right answer, not when (Y/N) was acting like this.

Following the sparkles sprinkled over her décolletage, the ribbon around her throat and the delicate slope of her neck, Harry realized (Y/N) was looking at him when he matched her gaze. There was a sparkle there, one different than that of her makeup. A sly smile touched the very corners of her mouth.

He'd been caught, but Harry didn't dare to look away from her.

Watching as she excused herself from her friends, looking for only a moment over her shoulder before she threaded through the crowd. Heading directly towards him. Harry shifted in his spot on the edge of the crowd, stationed near the table that had been reserved exclusively for her and the attention she would draw to this party.

Aware of the cameras that could easily capture them, both professional and amateur, (Y/N) didn't draw too near, but the heat she brought with her was enough to tickle along his skin.

"Hey, you," she greeted, a flirtatious undertone to the words. Her smile was a touch too bright to be only casual.

"Hi," he answered, dipping his chin in an attempt to level with her eyes, "Y'come here often?"

A peal of laughter spilled from her, (Y/N) leaning forward as if he said the funniest joke she'd ever heard. "You're so annoying," she shook her head though she held no real grit in her voice. She recovered with her lips in a curl as she canted her head. "Are you having fun at least? You haven't even moved from here all night.

"'M having fun watching you have fun," he clarified, "How are y'feeling?"

"I'm good," she sang, her features staying rounded and innocuous despite the way her eyes dropped from his, to the pillows of his lips. There, the glittery lids grew heavy, hooding her irises. "I think I might be ready to go home, though."

"Yeah?" Harry pressed, his voice suddenly deeper. Enough so that (Y/N) took the risk and leaned closer.

"Yeah," she affirmed, nibbling at her lip, "I promised you I would let us get home early tonight, remember?"

"But, if you're having fun, we don't have to go yet, love. I can wait for you."

"I can't."

It was the way that she met his eyes, gaze clear and heavy, that had a pump of blood rushing through his system and bruising his ribs.

"Say bye to your friends, I'll call Sully."

When she tossed a bright smile in his direction, sparkling gaze trained on him, Harry saw a camera trained in their direction to capture the moment.

That was a photo he hoped would resurface at some point.

—————

"Have a goodnight, kids. I'll see you in the morning, Miss (Y/N)."

With (Y/N)'s hand still tucked into Harry's elbow, a light jacket draped over her shoulders, she looked to Sully over her shoulder. "See you in the morning," she called.

Her steps never slowed, Harry keeping up with her while he bit back a smile. She definitely wasn't lying when she said she could wait.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he pushed open the door to her building, allowing her to step inside first. The sound of her heels clicking over the glossy floor matched the ticking of his heart. He faithfully followed her towards the elevator, tossing a polite smile to the lobby attendant for the both of them.

It wasn't until they were safe behind the gleaming doors of the elevator, only the mirrored walls and orchestrational music keeping them company, that (Y/N) broke.

Swirling to stand before him, with her heels assisting her height, she tugged Harry down with her arms looped around his neck. As soon as she was close enough, she pressed her lips to his in a messy smear. The tip of their noses mashed together before Harry was able to tilt his head. He could feel the remnants of her lip gloss, the soft heat of her kiss, the creases that matched up with his so perfectly. Parting his lips just enough, he slipped the tip of his tongue across the plush of her own mouth, getting a taste of the few sips of alcoholic lemonade she had at the beginning of the evening.

A breathy sigh fanned across his kiss when she opened her own mouth. Her tongue played along with his, getting a taste of him just as teasingly as he did for her. He clutched at her hips, finally getting more than a passing graze of the silken fabric that held tight over her body. The high leg cut of the bodysuit allowed him to feel glimpses of her bare skin through the tights pulled over her legs.

He wondered how long he would be able to keep her in this outfit before he was forced to tear it off of her.

Just as she chanced a hike of her leg over his thigh, the elevator dinged over their heads. it was Harry that pulled away first, looking over (Y/N)'s shoulder to see her penthouse level being highlighted.

"I'll follow you, sweet girl," Harry murmured, forcing himself to turn her body away from his and towards the opening doors.

She blinked herself back to the real world, clutching Harry's hand in her own before taking them down the hallway. It felt like an eternity as she dug through for the key to her door, long enough for him to skate his eyes down her form and over the exposed curve of her ass from the cut of the costume. He felt his pants tighten, his cock stirring at the sight.

As soon as she was able, she tugged him into her apartment after her. It was Harry that had the wherewithal to lock the door after them, only getting through the twisting motion for a second before she was pulling him away.

"We'll do that later. You're not my bodyguard tonight, just my boyfriend," she insisted, taking him to the couch with her.

A lopsided grin took over his mouth, going along with her as she urged him to take a seat on the plush sofa. "I thought y'liked that I protect you? What happened to that, sweet girl?"

"I do," she countered, taking a seat on his lap with her hands landing on the broad of his shoulders, "But I just want you to fuck me right now—not bodyguard me."

Harry felt a pulse of heat race through his system. He didn't think before he smeared his lips across hers, decidedly messier and harsher than the kiss they shared in the elevator.

She relented to his strength, clutching at his shoulders while he clutched at her waist. The boning of her corset was stiff under his hands, keeping her back arched as she leant into him. His palms skated over her form as she moaned into his mouth, the slick press and pull of their mouths filling the quiet of her apartment.

The ties of her corset slipped against his fingers just before he ran its other cotton fluff of her bunny tail. He couldn't help but to tug on it, hoping she could feel just how much he enjoyed her costume. The roll of her hips she gave in response was the right answer.

A whining moan rang from her throat then, the thin covering between her legs providing no cushion against the bulge of his cock underneath her core. She pulled away with her chest heaving against his, leaving Harry to drag his lips down the line of her jaw and down the curve of her neck.

He hoped her makeup artist for the next Halloween party wouldn't mind using a few extra minutes to cover whatever marks he left over tonight.

Harry gently nipped at the soft skin of her throat, his tongue soothing that same area within the same breath. He sucked and bit, feeling the skin heat under his mouth. (Y/N) fisted his shirt, her manicured nails behind felt through the material. The light scratch against his skin was enough to have his hips bucking up to hers, meeting her soft core in a shallow thrust.

"Harry," she breathed, his name said like a prayer in a delicate voice. "I don't want to wait."

He only shushed her as he dotted kisses down her neck once he was satisfied with the love bite he left behind on her throat. She might not want to wait, but he was more than happy taking a bit of extra time with his mouth on her.

Once he reached the swell of her breasts, he brought a hand up from her rear to the flexible cups of her corset. It didn't take much force to fold it down and expose her peaking nipple. He took the bud between his lips, sucking it against his tongue. The scraping of his teeth had goosebumps sparking over her skin, her nipple hardening against the buds of his tongue.

Her hands on his shoulders shifted upwards into the baby curls on the back of his neck, fingers sliding amongst the waves. It was his turn to let out a strangled moan as he moved to press his lips to her other breast, spurring (Y/N) on to tug at the roots of his hair just enough to send a zip over the knobs of his spine.

Wrapping an arm around her back, he pressed her closer to his mouth, muffling his moan as he laved his tongue over her breast. The only movement she could make over his lap was to sit on his thighs, pressing her core headily against his cock.

He could feel the way his cock twitched when he imagined the heat that was waiting for him, the tight channel he was going to squeeze the head into.

God, could he really wait much longer?

Pulling away from her chest with a pop, his lips swollen and slick with saliva, Harry looked up at her with darkened eyes. She looked devastating, eyes glossy with thick lashes, her bunny-pink nose and lips agape, tongue tasting of his name.

"Harry?"

He pressed a hard kiss to her waiting mouth. "Want m'help with your costume?"

"I've got it," she rushed out, stumbling from his lap as she blindly reached for the ties of her corset.

It only took a moment of watching her unable to reach the right ties, that Harry let out a breathy laugh. He spun her with his hands on her hips, presenting him with the view of her back with her bunny tail at his face. He couldn't help but to plant a kiss on the small of her back, an act that had a small giggle sounding from his girl.

Harry worked gently and methodically as he undid the ties of her costume. He brushed the bare skin of her back as he worked his fingers under the ribbons, the boning loosening with every pull. Soon enough the entire ensemble was pushed down her hips and left in a puddle at her feet. (Y/N) took in a deep breath, looking over her shoulder at where he sat with spread legs on the couch.

"Ears or no ears?" she asked, referring to the headband pinned to her hair.

"Ears," he answered definitively.

A sly sight colored her lusted features. "Okay."

She had to have been putting on a show with the slow pace she rolled down her tights. (Y/N) slowly bent at the hips as she needed, her ass in Harry's face with the puffy lips of her pussy on display the deeper she bent. He could already see the way her slit was glistening for him. She hadn't been lying when she said she wasn't interested in waiting.

It was a bit selfish, he thought, leaving her to do the hard work of undressing while reaching down to the bulge in his lap. But, he wasn't one to say no to a show, especially not one as pretty as this.

Undoing the fastenings of his trousers, Harry pushed the band of his briefs down his thighs. The ruddy head was already smeared with precum, enough that allowed him to glaze down the rest of his length as he fisted over himself. There was no doubt (Y/N) heard the slick sound that rang through the apartment; especially not when she looked at him over her shoulder, her ass in his face and bunny ears on her head.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, eyes darkened.

Her movements became a bit clumsy then, leaving the rest of his dressing to be left on the floor in record time. But, before she had a chance to climb back on his lap, Harry caged his free arm around her waist from behind. She let out a gasp, grabbing for his forearm that curled around his middle.

Harry tugged her down to sit on his lap, her back to his chest with the warmth of her pussy pressed right against the base of his cock. A full moan fell from her lips, (Y/N) throwing her head back to be laid against his shoulder.

"Alright with this?" he asked, referring to both the way he was taking her from behind and the fact she was naked while not a single article of his own clothing had been discarded.

"Uh-huh," she nodded absently, turning her head until she was snuggling against the column of his throat. "As long as you still kiss me."

An affection curl took over his mouth. "'M sure we can manage," he mused, "Budge up for me, love."

Lifting her hips while Harry's arm was still barred around her middle, he fisted his cock in his palm. With the way she hovered just above him, he was able to skim the head of his cock along her slick folds, smearing his precum around her core.

"Let me know if y'want me to stop or slow down," he murmured to her, something he told her every time she allowed him the privilege of settling between her thighs.

"Stop body guarding me, I'm f—"

Her chiding was cut off when Harry pushed his hips upwards, splitting her open with the head of his cock. A garbled call of his name bubbled out of her, the kind of thing that she attempted to bite back but still made it way out. He pulled her down onto his lap, bottoming out through her slick walls. A pleasured sigh heaved from his chest.

Harry bucked up into her, driving himself that much deeper, pushing his balls against her budding clit. Her breathing was shaky.

(Y/N )'s legs were spread wide around his own parted knees, leaving her open for him to begin bucking up into. She made the sweetest noises, the kind that told him he was hitting the deepest parts of her she had once told him had never been reached before him. He didn't have to see her to know that her eyes were fluttering to a close, nose pinched as she fought to keep her cool

Slick noises filtered through the space, her walls pulsing around him, attempting to suck him deeper though he was barely even pulling out at the beginning of each thrust.

"I-I wanna help," she whined, digging her fingers into the cage of his arm.

"Yeah?" he breathed, smearing a kiss to the dip of her shoulder, "Go ahead and help me, sweetheart."

He always thought it was quite cute that she wanted to help him when she was on top, despite how much he could tell she enjoyed just being bounced on his lap. His sweet girl, right to her core.

Slowing his bucks to gentle rolls of his hips, Harry allowed her to shift over his lap. Moving until she was straddling his pelvis, knees brought up to dig into the cushions of her sofa. She was spread wide open for him to reach around and graze her clit, the leverage of her knees on the couch allowing her to lift off of his cock until only the head was still tucked inside before dropping back down.

"Oh—Harry," she cried, arching her back with her bunny ears going lopsided.

With the enticing curve of her back, Harry's eyes were led right to the rounded curve of her ass. As she established her pace, the plush flesh slapped back against his lap. He couldn't take his eyes off, leaning back to watch the feast that was her body as she rode him.

Around her waist, his hand wrapped around her front dropped low until he met the top of her slit. He could feel the way his cock was splitting her open, a grazing that had his mouth falling open. His fingertips met her wet clit, the first touch being enough to have (Y/N) stumbling in her pace.

"Harry, oh my god."

That was all he needed to hear before he was circling her clit harder, the pads of his fingers unrelenting. "I've got y'sweet girl. Gonna cum for me?"

"A-Are you?"

"Want me to cum with you, sweetheart?" he choked out through gritted teeth. As much as playing with her clit was for her, the shocks felt through her body with the pulsing walls and squeezing thighs, that was for him.

"Uh-huh," she moaned out, her fluffed hair in a mess, "In-Inside."

It was his turn to let out a string of curses. With his free hand, Harry cuffed his hand around her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. Keeping true to her request, he pressed his lips to hers in a messy kiss; he was barely on center, teeth and tongues playing against one another. (Y/N)'s moans slipped through into his mouth, sweet and sugary.

There was no way he wouldn't be able to follow through on her request. Not when she was asking him to cum inside her, where her walls pulled and squeezed around him. She was snug, unwilling to let go of him, even when it was only for a moment with the rolls of her hips.

A frayed knot came to fruition in his stomach. It wasn't strong, but it was tight—the kind that would only crumble under pressure. And his pressure was calling his team in ecstasy, requesting him to cum inside of her with her wet pussy doing all the extra convincing.

"I want you to finish first," he breathed against her mouth, "My bunny goes first."

She wanted to smile, that much he could tell with the twitch of her lips, but there was too much on her mind to record the bubbling feeling over his teasing. Instead, a pinch formed between her brows, Harry's fingers over her clit doing that much more to draw her to the edge.

It all happened so quickly. At one moment, she was fluttering her lashes closed with her lips parted, and the next she was pulling away from his kiss with her head thrown back to his shoulder.

(Y/N) grew impossibly wet around him, her walls that much tighter. The pace of her hips dropped until she was making only shaky rolls, toes curling on either side of his thighs. A breathless moan fell from her lips, her kiss-swollen lips parted.

All it took for Harry after feeling her pleasure and feeling the way every part of her body attempted to clung to him, was seeing the bunny-pink blush on her nose. Then he was summing.

He felt the way his cock throbbed just before ropes of his cum spurted from his tip. He was buried deep inside her, his release painting across the ridges of her walls. (Y/N) could feel the warmth, the pressure, he could tell with the way she clenched around him, both inside and out.

Keeping her flush to him, Harry wondered if they were in the same universe then. Were their heads filled with the same clouds? The thought had him holding her that much tighter.

Coming back down to earth came faster for (Y/N), leaving her to start spreading kisses along the side of his face.

"Harry," she murmured, breathless and tired, "Harry, I love you."

A small smile curled his lips, his eyes still closed as she felt another aftershock rock his body. "I love you, too."

His first act back on the material plane came in the form of turning her face to give her a proper kiss. The urgency had been drained from his body (literally), leaving him with only affection for his sweet girl.

He slumped back against the couch cushion, keeping her with him as she went lax.

"Can I stay here for a minute?" she murmured, her words holding a drawl.

Harry spoke through his smile, "Few more minutes, sweetheart. Then we'll get ready for bed, ‘kay?"

"'Kay," (Y/N) replied, though they both knew that he wasn't going to have the heart to make her get up until she was ready.

Moving cautiously, Harry pulled the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa. He wrapped it around (Y/N)'s nude body, covering her before the chill of the room could eat at the bliss in her system.

Silence settled over them, Harry running a comforting circuit with his hand over her hip, the other hugging her around the waist. He closed his eyes when he swore he could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat—a grounding baseline.

Yeah, there was no way he was moving from this spot unless forced to do so.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" he hummed, pressing an absent kiss just to the side of her bunny ears.

"So," she started, amusement beginning to echo in her tone, "Bunny?"

Harry shook his head, biting back a smile as he held her that much tighter. "We're not getting into this tonight."

(Y/N) only laughed.

—————

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry smut #bodyguard harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #bodyguard harry styles #harry styles x reader #pleasing #harrys house #as it was #fine line

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blood-smiles · 2 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 ᡣ𐭩₊⋆

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 TW MDNI Fake religion . angel being creepy . profanity and small blurbs of NSFW . M!preg to some degree?

Eyes, many eyes, all watched you silently, feathers fell around you in a circle, the beautiful fluffy bird like wings curled around your form, a gorgeous man stood in front of you, eyes alike to those of a prism shining under sun, a kaleidoscope of colors reflecting off his beautiful hues and back into your own (e/c) irises.

He held you ever so gently, his fingers trembling as he softly caressed your face, his long ashen hair flowing down his back, alike to smooth silk.

He opened his mouth to speak but as soon as he was about to form a sentence your eyes snapped open.

ᝰ.ᐟ Your friend poked you with their finger, waking you up from your surreal dream and back into reality.

You were thinking about angels again, weren’t you?— They had been appearing in your dreams for the past few days, strangely they always centered around this man, a beautiful man.

After waking up you couldn’t remember anything else but his stunning crystalline eyes, those rainbow eyes were burned into the back of your head, you knew that he was beautiful, could it be your guardian angel visiting you?

ᝰ.ᐟ You had been assigned an essay on the topic of the heavenly protectors, your professor wanting to have a change of pace and focus on something more niche.

There were limited sources, so you had to dig deeper.

You had been looking at links as of late, locations that centered on religious themes and creatures.

ᝰ.ᐟ Lucky for you a new location appeared on your browser, what seemed to be a library that nuns and priests went to often, to study and solidify their fate.

ᝰ.ᐟ You walked into the library quietly, clutching your messenger bag close to your chest, your feet tapped against the pristine white flooring.

ᝰ.ᐟ This library was large, huge even. You had no idea how you never noticed it, the structure being a behemoth among other buildings.

The architecture of this place was simply breathtaking, your eyes drinking in every inch and centimeter of the temple, you knew you came to the right place when you noticed cherubs intricately carved into the white plaster above you.

ᝰ.ᐟ You were too much in awe to realize that you were about to crash into a person, instantly hitting their chest with your face and falling back onto the floor.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere!Angel let out a faint breath of air when he saw you, his heart beginning to beat rapidly, he had found you. He had finally found you!

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel helped you up immediately, gently taking your divine hands in his own, holding them as if they were golden 3 carat chains.

“Oh my! Are you alright, dear?”

ᝰ.ᐟ You thanked Yandere! Angel, your jaw slightly ajar from the beauty of the man, Yandere!Angel laughed lightly, covering the lower half of his face with his hand bashfully.

“You can take a picture so it lasts longer, hm?”

ᝰ.ᐟ Your eyes drifted down to his neck, star shaped scars lining the circumference of his throat over his skin. How strange.

ᝰ.ᐟ You cleared your throat, deciding to ignore that comment all together, taking out your small note pad you read from the pages, asking Yandere!Angel if the library had any books on your selection.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel’s brows raised, he knew you were here for something.. But about his own kin? It seems that he was guided to you and you were to him, just like faith.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel took your hand and ushered you to follow him, a slight flush centering on his cheeks. the both of you ventured to the very back of the temple like library, the undercover angel pushed a book case with impressive strength to a side.

A cloud of dust came off the shelves, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth and nose from the puff of dust.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel beat you to it as he gently put his hands over your face, protecting you from inhaling grime particles, the unexpected and honestly intimate gesture making you gaze up at him quizzically.

“Wouldn’t want you getting sick, dearest.”

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere!Angel couldn’t believe he had just touched you, he had touched YOU. Ecstasy flooded into his system, the golden blood surging in his veins boiling.

His face twitched, eyes behind eyelids making small movements, a nervous smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he dusted your shoulders off.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel took out a few books, blowing the dust away with a flick of his hand, he grasped the human leather cover, staring at it for a moment before handing the heavy enciclopedia to you.

“This is the most in depth book we have here, it isn’t every day anyone asks for books such as these.”

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel watched as you opened the pages, tracing the book with your hands, he shuddered, would you touch him like that too?

He gently plucked a feather from the wings attached to his back, gently putting the soft feather in your hand, he opened his eyes for a split second.

Beautiful. Breath taking crystalline eyes, those eyes. You could recognize them anywhere! Those were the eyes from the man in your dream!

“This feather is from an angel, Seraph if you may. Treasure it, keep it with you at all times and it will keep you safe.”

ᝰ.ᐟ You stared at his eyes, it was like they were eating at you, just who was he? It would be silly to think he would appear in your dreams.. Wouldn’t it..?

“..Lucien.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Lucien, (Y/N).”

ᝰ.ᐟ How did he know your name? You never told him your name.. you gave him a funny look, you smiled awkwardly while turning on your heel to make a hasty departure.

You glanced back over your shoulder, a bad habit you had developed as a result of walking home alone during night time.

ᝰ.ᐟ Your breath caught in your throat, Lucien. That same strange librarian was no human anymore, he stood in front of a window, he lifted his hand slowly waving to you, a nice flush tinting his cheekbones.

Long white wings adorned his back, lush feathers falling onto the pristine floor of the temple. A golden halo behind his head, circulating and hovering in clock wise motions. Small wings that hid under his hair twitched and fluttered as they unfolded, looking unbearably soft and pretty.

“..What the fuck..?”

ᝰ.ᐟ You gasped to yourself as you stared at him, he smiled wider, you had noticed, he knew you had noticed! And you didn’t go crazy!

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel was delighted to make the discovery that you weren’t driven to insanity while seeing his half form. most humans would have been having seizures on the floor right about now, but you just blinked a few times and turned back around, shoulders tense and rigid.

ᝰ.ᐟ He shivered in delight, humans were at times so adorable— Well more like you were the cutest little thing he has ever seen!

ᝰ.ᐟ He just wanted to grab you and tuck your little self into his nest and have many many children! He hasn’t had his first batch of eggs yet.. he was going to be plump with eggs soon.

ᝰ.ᐟ the both of you were mates! Yes, yes there was no other explanation for these events, perhaps [ REDACTED ] had finally blessed him!

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel ‘s face turned a deeper shade of red, he could swear there were little hearts coming out of him.

He held his face in his hands, his cheeks felt agonizingly hot, he put his hands to work, trying to bat his face a little to keep the blushing down.

ᝰ.ᐟ You were safe. You had taken his feather. Basically a natural tracking device, and soon he would work his way into your life little by little.. Guardian Angel or not he was going to take you as his.

“My wings..? You want to touch them? Well of course, darling! All of me is yours.”

(Touching an angels wings is an intimate act where mates solidify their mating bond. Discretion advised.)

#yandere x reader #smilesyanderes #yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #fem reader #x female reader #LucienPosting

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snowballseal · 2 months ago

Text

Them as supernatural creatures (LaDS)

Summary: This is my take on what supernatural creature each guy would be. They're pretty long, and either a fic where reader discovers what they are or a domestic moment they share together.

Rafayel - kitsune

Zayne - vampire

Xavier - guardian angel

Sylus - demon

Word Count: all roughly 1500 words

Note: These honestly came out soooo much longer than I expected. I might add a fic for Caleb, cause honestly, I'm really warming up to him. What supernatural creature should he be?

I'll probably come back and edit later, so let me know if you catch any mistakes!

---

Rafayel / Kitsune

“Rafayel…” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?! They deserved it,” Rafayel defends himself as he flops down onto the couch.

“That doesn’t mean you can screw with people whenever you want,” you chastise softly and sit next to him, “You’re supposed to keep your identity a secret.”

Rafayel gives you a pout. Letting out a dramatic huff, he falls over into your lap, stretching out lazily instead of giving you any kind of response. You bite back a laugh, his weight pressing you into the couch, effectively trapping you as he makes himself comfortable. It takes everything in you to not give in to his usual cute tactics, the concern gripping your chest not quite letting go.

“Seriously, Raffie, it could be dangerous,” you continue, worry seeping into your voice.

“It’s fiiine,” he sighs, ocean eyes glinting up at you with amusement, “You worry too much, cutie. You wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t told you.”

“Still-”

“Nope, no more worrying,” he cuts you off quickly, reaching up to pinch both your cheek with a teasing, cheshire grin, “Miss Bodyguard is off duty now. This spirit wants his girlfriend to cuddle with him.”

Swatting at his hands, you can feel a blush creeping up your neck. Sometimes it still surprises you how care-free he is, like nothing could ever touch him. Which maybe he’s right. And you know he’s never going to stop his antics. Still, you worry. It’s a part of your nature, wanting to protect people, especially the ones you love, especially him.

But Rafayel is persistent, coaxing you to relax with playful touches and banter. He knows exactly how to unwind you, and how to rile you up, every button, every nerve. You feel almost powerless to resist, to hold onto your lingering doubts. And it’s not even his powers, it’s just Rafayel, your Rafayel.

And of course you give in. With a weak sigh, you settle into the couch, your fingers finding their way into his curls to calm what’s left of your frazzled nerves. Rafayel hums, low and content, his eyes flickering shut as he arches up into your touch like a cat.

“Do you want to stop hiding your ears?” You ask quietly, something warm and tender winding through your ribs.

Rafayel lets out another low rumble, eyes opening a fraction to look up at you suspiciously, “You know, sometimes I wonder if you like my ears more than you like me. That wouldn’t be true, now would it, cutie?”

“Of course not,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Mhm, sure.” A small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, because of course he knows that you do truly love him for him, but the fox does love his games.

It’s almost unnoticeable, the way he dismisses his transformation magic. Every time you can’t help but watch, fully enraptured by the change. A pair of soft ears flicker up from his hair, as if they were simply hiding in his curls the whole time. And his tails. You blink, and suddenly they appear, fluffy and plush, the same color as his hair. They curl around you, as if seeking out your warmth, the same way Rafayel turns to nuzzle into your stomach. The spirit gives a happy rumble when you rub his ears, pressing impossibly closer.

“You have no idea how irritating it is to hide them all the time.” His voice comes out muffled by your sweater, his ears flicking back before pressing to your fingers again. “I imagine it’s how you humans feel when you wear itchy clothes.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” you agree, “I’m glad you don’t have to hide them around me anymore.”

“You’re the first human I’ve allowed to see my true form in a long time, ya know.”

Your heart flutters a little at that. It’s a fact you’re well aware of, and one you try to never take for granted. It had taken a long time for Rafayel to share this with you.

Ever since you met in the park, you knew something was different about him. He was beautiful, after all. More beautiful than you thought a person could be. And there was always something about his smile, something that set you on edge but also drew you in. The mischievous glint in his eyes never wavering, the almost unnatural grace he moves with, even the way he talks, as if he remembers times long gone by.

It all clicked when he finally told you. When he showed you his true form. A fox spirit. Everything made complete sense, but also no sense at all in that moment. First, you couldn’t comprehend it. Wanderers, yes, those you could wrap your head around. Mystical fox spirits? No. No, that took a few days to really settle in.

Still, it was Rafayel. It was always Rafayel. And the moment he came to you after those few days of distance, tentative and quiet in a way you had never witnessed from the artist, you made your decision.

A life without him wasn’t possible. Not for you. Not with how you had fallen in love with him.

“So, tell me again why you tricked those guys into thinking a bear was chasing them?” You ask, tone fond as you continue to rub the soft fur on his ears.

Rafayel huffs, rolling on his back to meet your gaze more easily. The swirling colors of his eyes gleam with that familiar mischief, his canines flashing sharply in a dangerous grin, “They were hunting for sport, so I showed them what it’s like to be hunted.”

He really is scary sometimes, you think to yourself, biting back a smile.

“I’m sure they’ll think twice about hunting in your woods again.”

“They better,” he snips, “If I catch them again I’ll send a real bear after them.”

“I’m sure the forest thinks you’re quite a good guardian, mister fox spirit,” you tease, ruffling his hair fondly.

Rafayel suddenly shifts, and in the blink of an eye he’s leaning over you, his arms braced against the couch on either side of your head. You freeze, eyes going wide as you look up at him, pulse racing in your ears. The fox spirit leans down, nose brushing yours, that same dangerous smile pulling at his lips.

“And what do you think, miss hunter?” He asks, breath warm against your lips.

A lump forms in your throat, making it hard to speak, to even breathe with him this close. And Rafayel can tell, his eyes narrowing with amusement. He lifts one hand, fingers tracing delicately along your cheek so you feel the faint edge of his claws.

“What? Fox got your tongue?” He all but taunts, leaning closer. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips, his grin widening. “I could show you what that really feels like if you want.”

…

Heat flares across your cheeks. You gape at him, shock mixing with embarrassment mixing with something you don’t want to admit to. Did he just say what you think he did?

Rafayel keeps his cool facade for only a few more seconds before he cracks, bursting into a fit of laughter. You stare at him, blinking wildly, brain slowly catching up with it all. And then you’re shoving him.

“Rafayel!” You squeak, and he only laughs harder, which in turn, makes you more flustered. “You’re such a- I can’t believe you! God, you’re insufferable.”

The artist catches your hands when you go to hit him again, his ocean eyes crinkling along the edges. Snickering softly, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your angry pout.

“Sorry, my bride,” he hums unapologetically against your lips, pressing a scattering of chaste kisses along your pink cheeks. “It felt like the best way to change the subject.”

“My lover is such a sadist,” you grumble, trying to turn away from him. It’s difficult to keep pouting when he showers you in such soft affection. “My poor heart can’t take this, you know.”

Rafayel cups your face, drawing you back to face him so he can press another kiss to your lips, this one tender and gentle and slow. And just like before, you’re powerless to resist him. Your fingers brush against his neck as you return the kiss, letting the warmth of his touch wash over you. Everything about him is so addicting, so enthralling, like you could get lost and never find your way out. It almost scares you, how much you’re willing to lose for this man.

Eventually Rafayel draws away, if only to let you catch your breath, still teasing you, “Now do you forgive me, cutie?”

“Hmm, I guess so,” you sigh, pretending to be appeased. Your fingers trail innocently up into his hair, until you’re close enough to give his fluffy ear a playful pinch. Rafayel squawks and pulls away, giving you the most dramatic look of betrayal. Grinning, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Okay, now I definitely do.”

Rafayel whines, reaching up to rub his ear, “Who’s the sadist now?”

“Watch it, or I might just pull your tail.”

“Okay, okay, we’re even…Now can we cuddle?”

---

Zayne / Vampire

You’ve known Zayne practically your whole life. Well, all of your life that you can remember, at least. He’s always been something constant, if not distant at times. And while you never assumed you knew everything about the doctor, you thought you knew more than most.

That is, until you wander into his office one day to find him passed out on the floor.

“Zayne?” You freeze in the doorway to his office, eyes blowing wide.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t show a single sign of life. Fear sinks deep into your bones, wraps around your lungs like a noose. And then your legs are moving. Your shoes desperately try to grip the tile as you dash across the room, panic dulling the throb in your knees as you drop to the ground beside him.

Pulse. You need to check his pulse. And his breathing.

Hands shaking, you press your fingers below his jaw, only to inhale sharply at the shock of how cold his skin is. Like ice. Too cold. No one should be this cold. And you can’t find a pulse. You skim your fingers down his neck, looking, looking, but still nothing.

Leaning over the still doctor, you press your ear to his chest and wait. Your lungs start to ache from how you desperately hold your breath, but it’s nothing compared to the terror gripping your heart. Because you hear nothing. Nothing at all.

You draw back, lips parting, ready to call out for someone, anyone.

Until a hand clamps firmly over your mouth.

A surprised scream escapes you, muffled by cold fingers, as you find yourself flipped, a hand holding the back of your head to prevent it from hitting the ground. Chest heaving, you draw a fist back, ready to fight back against your attacker, only to freeze when your eyes meet a pair of hazel ones.

Zayne.

Relief washes over you. Quickly followed by confusion. You quickly push his hand away, brow knitting together.

“What the hell, Zayne?” You bark, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor quickly backs away, resting back on his haunches. You take a moment to look him over, worry still clinging to your bones. He’s pale, somehow more pale than usual at least. Dark shadows rest under his eyes, which appear almost bleary as he gazes back at you. He looks exhausted.

Dead, even.

“You weren’t breathing,” you whisper, getting to your knees so you can check his temperature again. “Your heart wasn’t beating. I checked. What happened? How are you awake right now?”

Zayne grimaces, flinching away from your touch, and you freeze.

A deafening silence fills the office. It’s an odd stand-off, you staring him down, confusion burning behind your gaze, while he does everything he can to avoid it. For a split second, though, you see something you’ve never seen in the doctor. Uncertainty.

“Zayne?” You call again, voice going soft, “Talk to me. Please.”

Zayne hesitates, seemingly debating in his head before he speaks, his voice a low rasp, “I apologize for scaring you. That must have been startling to walk in on.”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, slowly making your way closer to him, “I’m more concerned about you right now. You were dead. At least, I thought you were. So what happened?”

Another beat of silence.

“I must have lost consciousness from exhaustion. I haven’t slept much the past few days,” he tries, but even to your ears, it sounds like a weak excuse.

“Zayne, your heart wasn’t beating. You-” You press a hand to his chest, perhaps to prove a point, perhaps to knock some sense into him. To do something.

Except his heart still isn’t beating.

You're paralyzed. Eyes locked on his chest. Confusion creeps over you, like tendrils of ice spreading through your chest. Sharp. Suffocating. This isn’t right. This can’t be real. It can’t.

Zayne lets out another sigh, this one resigned and tired. Like he’s finally given up. His cold fingers gently cover yours. He draws your hand away from his chest, though he never lets go of it.

“I suppose there’s no hiding it anymore,” he murmurs, voice stiff, like how he speaks when he’s working. “Come, let’s sit on the couch. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there.”

You don’t say a word as he helps you to your feet. You can’t. Your tongue feels like a dead weight in your mouth. And even if you could talk, you don’t know what you would say. A million questions rush through your head, so blurred that you can’t pick out a single one, except-

“What are you?”

It echoes in your head raucously as you take a tentative seat on the couch. Zayne’s lips press into a tight line, and he clears his throat.

“That depends. There are many names for my condition.” His leg bounces ever so slightly as he continues, eyes still not meeting yours. “Though I suppose the most common term is vampirism.”

Vampirism.

You blink.

And blink and blink.

Vampire. He’s a vampire.

A vampire?

“Those aren’t real,” you immediately breathe out, mind racing.

A humorless smile pulls at the doctor’s lips, “I assure you, it is. I’ve suffered from the symptoms for as long as I can remember.”

A vampire. He’s a vampire. Your childhood best friend is a vampire.

“How did I not notice?” You all but squeak, examining him with this new information.

Sure, he’s pale, but Zayne’s always been pale. And it’s not like he avoids the sun. Aren’t vampires supposed to be weak to the sun or something? Plus, he’s aging, isn’t he? A million new questions race through your mind.

“Wait, do you have fangs?!”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re touching his face, basically making him open his mouth. Zayne startles, brow raising at your brazenness, but he does nothing to stop you. At first, his teeth look normal, the only thing worth noting being the excellent care he’s given them. But then you notice it. His canines seem to sharpen, just a touch longer than they should be.

And that’s all the proof you need.

“You’re a vampire,” you breathe, fingers settling along his jaw.

Zayne watches you carefully, waiting for some kind of reaction. Horror. Fear. Anger. All of those would be appropriate. But you don’t show any of them. Instead, you look at him with a mixture of disbelief and…curiosity?

Brow knitting together, Zayne reaches up to touch your wrist, just to check your pulse to make sure you haven’t gone into some sort of shock. Your pulse is steady though, if not a little accelerated.

“You’re not…frightened? Of me?” He asks slowly, confusion gleaming in the depths of his eyes.

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break out across your features, “No, Zayne, I’m not scared of you. I probably should be, but hey, I fight wanderers for a living. Do I have a lot of questions? Yes. But if you’ve really been like this since we were young, that means you’re not going to suddenly do something to me now, right?”

Your lack of concern should be worrying, but Zayne finds the tension is his shoulders slowly dripping away. Of course you would surprise him like this. You’ve always been too trusting, in his opinion, though he’s not about to correct you now.

“So, do you drink blood? I’m guessing you don’t hurt people, considering how strictly you follow your oath.” Head tilting, you give him a questioning look, eyes wide and almost innocent in their curiosity. “So where do you get it from? Blood bags? I’ve read that in a few books. Or animals? I’ve read that, too. How accurate are all those stories?”

“I could answer your questions if you slow down,” Zayne murmurs, fighting an amused smile. “I assure you, we have plenty of time.”

You flush, biting off the rest of your questions. Right. You’re not really giving him an opportunity to answer, are you? So where do you start?

“What is your first question?” The doctor prompts, thumb brushing calmly over your pulse.

“Hmm. The blood question. Do you have to drink it?”

“Yes,” he answers, though his voice rings with distaste, “I have to consume some form of blood every few months to keep my senses about me. I’ve perhaps waited too long this time.”

“Do you need some right now?” You press, brow furrowing.

Zayne hesitates. His lips pinch together again, a sign you recognize.

“No.”

“Liar. That’s why you passed out,” you accuse, though you keep your voice somewhat gentle.

He says nothing for a long moment, a mixture of guilt and discomfort crossing his features. Sighing softly, you give his cheek a light pinch.

“Zaaayne.”

“I’ve tolerated longer periods than this between feedings,” he murmurs, trying to sound dismissive, though you can hear the exhaustion creeping back into his voice, “My body must simply be enduring higher levels of stress due to the season. As long as I rest more, I’ll be fine until my next supply arrives.”

“Oooor,” you hum, hesitating only a moment before you offer, “You can draw some of my blood. Just enough to get you through till then. We know it’s clean since you always run so many tests on it, so that shouldn’t be a concern right?”

Zayne blinks in surprise. Even if you were taking this all well, he certainly wasn’t expecting you to make such an offer. But you meet his gaze, unwavering, expectant, mind already made up.

If his heart were beating, he’s sure it would stutter.

While he hates his condition, hates what he has to do to appease it, he can’t deny that the smell of your blood has always been tempting to him. Cloyingly sweet, like the sweetest dessert.

He should say no. He should just endure, as he always has.

But the determination in your eyes makes him waver. And Zayne is a weak man when it comes to anything related to you.

“It’s not advisable…” He starts, jaw tightening.

You perk up, not actually expecting him to consider it. It was a crazy idea after all, but you want to help. You hate the idea of him suffering by choice when you can do something about it.

“But…?”

“But I am not completely opposed to the idea,” he concedes, almost looking ashamed.

“Good,” you chirp, a smile lighting up your face as you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s get to work, doctor.”

God, you would be the death of him.

Well, if he were fully alive, that is.

---

Xavier / Angel

“How is it that you seem to find danger wherever you go?” Xavier murmurs, voice as even as ever, yet cradling a hint of exasperation.

Biting back a smile, you keep your attention focused on his fingers. They work with a practiced precision to bandage the laceration on your arm, adept from the years of dressing your wounds. It has become a near weekly occurrence because of your work. Getting hurt is an unfortunate side effect of being a hunter.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so reckless if I didn’t have such a sweet angel to take care of me afterwards,” you hum, tone bordering on teasing.

Xavier’s ears flush a soft pink, his wings ruffling in some kind of indignation, which only makes your smile stretch wider. He’s always so easy to fluster, and his wings give him away every time. It makes you want to tease him even more, but when you go to do exactly that, all that escapes you is a low hiss when he swipes a pad of alcohol across another of your cuts.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his thumb brushing tenderly along your knuckles.

“S’okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath, “Just stings. I hate the shallow ones more than the actual cuts, you know?”

Xavier gives a low hum, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You’re sure he would prefer you avoid all physical injury, but that is an argument the angel lost a long time ago, not long after you first met. And what a day that was.

Xavier came into your life in a flash of light. Literally.

You remember the day with quite a bit fondness despite how horrible it was. Everything had gone wrong that day. Exams were kicking your butt, as was training for the Association. To say you were down in the dumps was an understatement, which is why you had been out in the woods, trying to enjoy a bit of silence.

That is, of course, when a wanderer decided to appear.

You did your best to handle it, but you were still just in training at the time, and it was clear you were outmatched. Things would have taken a turn for the worse if Xavier hadn’t shown up.

All you really remember is seeing a blinding light, almost like a flashbang, and then there he was. Ethereal, face set with stone-cold focus, hair silvery white like a star, but most striking were the large wings stretching from his shoulders, impossibly white, the edge of each feather glinting like a knife. With a flourish of his sword, he clashed with the wanderer, killing it in seconds.

In that moment, you were convinced you were dead. That made a lot more sense than what you were seeing, after all - an angel. Sure, he didn’t have the halo, but what else could he be? And how could you be seeing an angel if you weren’t dead?

It took him kneeling down in front of you, eyes sharp with concern as he scanned your entire body for injuries, for you to realize you were, in fact, not dead. And that’s when the questions started.

“Who are you?”

“What are you?

“Where did you come from?”

Xavier being Xavier, he danced around each answer. And you being you, you didn’t relent until you got the answers you wanted.

Not only is he an angel, he’s a guardian angel, and you’ve become his charge. And since he revealed himself to you, he can’t go back to his realm without getting in serious trouble.

That’s how you ended up here, with an angel as your roommate. What else were you supposed to do with him? The man was like a lost puppy with wings. Sure, he can take down a wanderer like it’s nothing, but ask him to work a toaster and he’ll sit there for about an hour just staring at the thing. You couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

And it was the best decision of your life, really. Not only has he become your best friend, but maybe something more.

“I do wish you would stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger,” Xavier rumbles suddenly, pouting a little bit as he examines your now bandaged hand.

“It’s not unnecessary,” you chime softly, slipping your hand from his to poke his cheek playfully. Satisfaction curls in your chest at the blush that spreads across his beautiful features, his pout only growing cuter. “If I don’t put myself in danger, then other people will, and then innocent people can get hurt.”

“Being so selfless could get you killed,” he sighs, rising to his feet, wings flaring behind him.

Your eyes follow him, steady and warm, head craning up to hold his gaze, “I’m perfectly capable of staying alive, Xavier. And if I’m ever in trouble, I know you’ll be there to help me.”

The angel huffs. You’re not wrong, as much as he’d like to argue. What was once just a job to him, a responsibility, is now something more, something carved deep into his soul. Every fiber of his being longs to keep you safe, even if it means breaking every rule he once followed. Even if it means he must fall some day.

Ignoring that thought, Xavier settles onto the bed next to you, letting out a heavy sigh as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes your neck, soft and ticklish, drawing a light giggle from you as you curl your arms around his shoulders.

“You really shouldn’t worry so much, starlight.”

“You make it incredibly difficult not to,” he grumbles, voice low and muffled, “I just want to keep you safe…”

“Hmm, such a sweet angel,” you hum and card your fingers through the feathers at the base of his wings.

Xavier holds back a shiver, his body arching into your delicate touch. His wings have always been sensitive, especially when you’re the one touching them. You don’t miss the way his blush spreads down his neck, or the way his wings instinctively curl around you, as if they can block out the rest of the world, as if to make a space just for the two of you. The smile that pulls at your lips is overwhelmingly fond, just like your touch.

You love the feeling of his feathers under your fingers. At first glance, they look almost sharp, but they’re surprisingly soft, downy and warm to the touch. Without thinking, you trail your fingers along the curve of his wing and fix any out of place feathers with the utmost of care. Xavier lets out another, shaky sigh, his eyes flickering shut.

It’s a soft moment. Everything else is muted, the only sound being that of your steady breath and his lazy, content hums. Xavier nuzzles even closer to you, his body impossibly warm, his weight too much for you to support. A giggle escapes you as you lean back onto the bed, the angel settling on top of you without an ounce of shame in his expression.

“I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re actually a cat disguised as an angel, “ you tease, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips. He leans into your palm without hesitation.

“Being a cat wouldn’t be so bad,” he murmurs, as if he’s given the idea some thought before. “I’d get to sleep all day and eat whenever I want instead of chasing a certain, reckless hunter around.”

He nips at your finger lightly, but your smile doesn’t waver.

“I think you’d get bored eventually.”

“Is that so?”

“Yah. I think you enjoy chasing me around, you just don’t want to admit it,” you chirp, tilting your head innocently, “And you’d miss me horribly, don’t you think?”

Xavier hums, turning his face to nuzzle into your palm. His lips brush your skin, a whisper of some kind of promise, making your heart flutter unevenly.

“I suppose I would…and would you miss me?” His eyes flicker back to you, narrowed, an undeniable spark of affection kindled in their blue depths.

You both know the answer.

“I’d miss you more than anything, angel.” Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t imagine life without you.”

A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “Then, I guess I’ll have to stay by your side.”

“You better.”

“Of course, my lady.”

---

Sylus / Demon

“What does your real form look like?”

You perch on the edge of his bed, feet kicking in the air as you watch Sylus get ready for whatever meeting he’s about to go to. Something to do with one of the other head crime bosses in the N109 Zone, you’re sure. One certainly down on their luck and looking to make a deal.

Sylus glances at you through the mirror, long fingers slowing as he fixes his cufflinks. His eyes bore into you, glinting with something violent, something vicious and bloody that should unsettle you to your core, but you don’t flinch, you don’t even blink.

Such a brave kitten, the demon thinks, amusement curling his lips.

“Curious, sweetie?”

The smile he gives you is sharp, too sharp, and your skin prickles with an instinctive kind of unease. It’s something you’ve grown used to, the way your body reacts to him. Like a lamb cornered by a wolf, everything screaming at you to run, yet you chose to stay cornered. Choose to trust the teeth pressing so gently to your throat, violence and desire so perfectly restrained to keep you safe.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you chime, head tilting ever so slightly. “I just…want to understand you better, you know?”

Sylus hums and turns his focus back to straightening his cuffs, “Is that so? Aren’t you scared of what I might look like?”

“No.” Your answer is quick, unwavering, and Sylus perks a brow.

A brave kitten indeed. He’s almost impressed. The rumors about him are none too kind, and yet here you are, seeking the truth. Without knowing what the truth means.

Giving himself one last look in the mirror, the demon turns to you. He studies you for a long moment, gaze dark, pensive, intense in a way that makes your breath hitch. His eyes darken, something predatory glinting in their cardinal depths. You look at him so innocently, as if you’re not staring down the devil himself, as if you know he’d never hurt you. It makes him want to ruin you, to see that pretty blush stain your skin all over, just to curb the morbid desire burning in his chest.

But you are right, he’d never hurt you. You’re too pure, too good. So he lets himself be soft, to the best of his ability at least.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors,” he murmurs eventually.

His shoes barely make a noise as he slowly approaches you. Each step is measured, confident, like he always is, and each step makes your heart flutter a little more. You’re all but holding your breath as Sylus comes to stand in front of you. His fingers, calloused and rough from a life of violence, graze your jaw so tenderly, drawing your face up to his.

“Are you sure you can handle it, sweetie?” He asks, voice almost taunting, though his features remain soft, unassuming.

Still unwavering in your decision, you nod, “I want to know you, Sylus. All of you.”

He holds your gaze for another long moment, as if he’s trying to read your soul. Which he very well could be, you realize. But when you look into his eyes, what you see isn’t his usual smug composure. Instead, you see a flicker in hesitation. Uncertainty. And it makes your heart ache.

Lifting a hand, you carefully cover the one Sylus holds against your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his touch, a gentle smile pulling at your lips, “You won’t scare me away, Sylus. I promise.”

So perceptive. Sylus gives a low chuckle, shaking his head, “You really aren’t like most humans, sweetheart. Most wouldn’t want to know me even in this form.”

“Well that’s their loss,” you hum, eyes crinkling up at him, “But that means I get you all to myself, so I can’t feel too bad for them.”

“My, what a selfish little kitten I have.” His thumb brushes lovingly over your cheek as his expression turns more serious. “If you want to see my true form, all you have to do is ask. Your desires are mine to fulfill, and I will do so with pleasure.”

“I want to see it, Sylus,” you repeat, “I want to see you.”

“Alright.” He draws back, that wicked smile returning, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, kitten.”

You watch, enraptured, as he rolls his shoulders, tendrils of dark smoke curling around his body. It envelopes him completely and the air in the room grows tense, fizzling with a static that has the hair on your arms standing on end. The lights flicker, plunging the room in darkness for a split second.

And when they come back on, you have to swallow down a gasp.

Because there he is. You’re not sure exactly what you were expecting. You had heard the rumors, the whispers about the monster that haunts the N109 Zone, but this somehow seems different from everything you’ve heard.

Smoldering eyes, sharp and cat-like now, stare you down with an apprehensive gleam. A pair of dark horns curl from his silvery hair. Veins of the same color curl around his neck and down his forearms like webs, the skin of his hands bleeding pitch black. His fingers look more like claws, glinting dangerously in the dim light of the room. Your eyes catch on the tail waving behind him, the spade-tip just as sharp. And the wings. They unfurl slightly, ink-like feathers brushing the floor.

What’s most shocking though, is his size. He stands almost a foot taller, his already imposing stature now threatening. The air shivers around his form, and you can feel that familiar, foreboding sensation creeping up your spine.

But the only thought running through your head is that he’s beautiful. Beautiful like a storm. Devastating and destructive, yet you can’t tear your eyes away. And you just want to be closer.

“Are you scared, kitten?” His voice rumbles with an almost imperceptible dissonance, a hint of concern beneath his tone.

You blink, gaze snapping back up to his, “No, of course not, Sy.”

The tension seems to fall away from his shoulders at that, but he still doesn’t dare move, like he’s still worried you might run away. So you, in a bout of confidence, push off the bed and walk right up to him. Sylus watches you carefully, expression reserved.

“Can I?” You ask, keeping your tone soft as you brush your fingers against the back of his hand. You look up at him questioningly, and Sylus relents, allowing you to take his hand in yours. Your touch is unbearably soft and curious, trailing along the dark tendrils marking his skin. “Does any of it hurt? To change, I mean. Are you comfortable in this form?”

“I used to spend more time in this form,” he hums, tail flicking back and forth, “but to do business in the N109 Zone, one must be able to live in the shadows without being noticed. This form did not benefit me, so I took the form of a human to…blend in, one might say. Humans are more willing to make a deal when they believe they’re on equal ground.”

“That makes sense, but it didn’t answer my question.” You pout, tapping his hand. “Does it hurt to switch between the two?”

A small grin pulls at Sylus’ lips, revealing a sharp set of fangs, his eyes narrowing in amusement, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t.”

“Good.” You nod and brush your thumb over his knuckles. “Then I want you to take whatever form you’re more comfortable in when it’s just the two of you.”

Surprise flickers across his face, barely noticeable, but you catch it. Sylus covers it up quickly, his smile turning mischievous, “I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with this. Does my kitten have a soft spot for monsters?”

“Maybe,” you hum, stretching up to curl your hands around his neck despite how much taller he is than you now.

Sylus relents once more, leaning down so you don’t have to balance on the tips of your toes, even though he finds it quite cute. His hands rest tentatively against your waist, his fingers nearly interlinking at the small of your back. The size difference makes you bite the inside of your cheek, heat creeping up your neck.

Pushing the thought away, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, humming happily, “You’re not a monster, though. I think you actually look quite…charming like this.”

The demon huffs out a laugh, his forehead coming to rest against yours, “Whatever you say, sweetheart. I’ll be whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy.”

“You make me happy, Sylus.”

“Well then, I suppose this arrangement will benefit us both greatly.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, “I suppose it will.”

---

I felt most of my choices were pretty expected, but let me know if you guys think they'd be other supernatural creatures! And Happy almost Halloween!

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dontbesoweirdkira · 2 months ago

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howdyyy, what do u think of plat yan! dick grayson (or platonic yan father bruce wayne up to u) with a batsis who is very disinterested with him primarily bc when she was younger she idolised him a lot but now not so much. there are comics where grayson has cheated on his partners before so imagine batsis coming to realise as she aged and matured that her doting brother is a bit of a playboy…. a lot like a playboy actually—

You know, this is actually extremely realistic. There's nothing like the rose color glasses falling off and realizing just how messed up your family truly is.

I'd like to think that there was plenty of jokes and mentions about Dick being a playboy but Batsis would just be absolutely clueless. You probably just thought it was a reference to his charming appearance or the way he gets hit on at least once whenever he goes out. Not really that he was an notorious heart breaker.

Like i don't think the other batkids had serious talks about it in front of you because of your (then) age or maybe it was a request by Dick so he could keep on his perfect mask with you?

Ironically, he wouldn't want any man to treat his little sister (or any of them) the way he does to other women but he has a problem. I will say though, it makes absolute sense that Dick or even the others would have issues keeping relationships or even have sex addictions. I mean it's a real issue that many people are struggling with right now. But can you imagine your father constantly bringing home women and cheating your entire childhood? Like Bruce introduces some of these women to them, they get attached to this potential mother then it's ripped away to be discarded for the new catch. I think that definitely warped Dick's view of women and romance stems from that. *intense mommy issues* But also i mentioned before that it's hard for him to maintain relationships while taking on the fatherly role in the family. His obsession with making sure all of his siblings are cared for and protected(mixed with being nightwing), makes it all the more difficult. Maybe that leads him to just hooking up with and being sloppy in his relationships. Maybe its just a means of stress relief and that causes him to almost dehumanize/objectify the women he "romances".

I'm not saying this is justifiable, cheating is disgusting and his behaviors are something that needs to be corrected regardless of mommy issues but for headcanon sake we are entertaining the concept

I'm not sure how you'd exactly find out about it. Maybe one of the kids let it slip and didn't bother to do damage control because you're old enough now? Maybe you spoke to one of his exes that is still friendly with the batfam? Or maybe your brain started to develop and you realized he wasn't hanging out with that new super model as just friends all night...it was something more and his girlfriend definitely didn't know about it.

Regardless, I think when you finally found out about everything, your world crushed. I don't think you'd hate him but you just feel yucky about the whole thing. Now when you look at him something in your stomach just sinks. You might even wonder if you can trust him. I mean if he's got that much of a problem to be dishonest with his lovers, then why would it be so left field to suggest he lied to you too when he said he loves you or that you were his favorite? The transition from you idolizing him to being standoff-ish would be extremely noticeable to him. I mean it's hard to ignore when you were his mini me. Even as you got older you followed him around and never skipped an opportunity to be near.

He wouldn't think that it was because of the playboy thing, maybe just you needing some space as a teen. Everyone has gone through that phase before but when he notices your shift is only directed towards him, he's a little upset about it. He doesn't understand what he did wrong? One day you guys are eating ice cream together while having a sleepover in his room to you treating him like a disease.

Eventually your big brother corners you and makes you to confess whats bothering you. He apologizes if something he said rubbed you the wrong way but you couldn't keep treating him this way.

"uhm..i dunno, dick? I found out how you've been treating you partners and i think it's kinda gross. I guess i just don't really wanna be around someone who treats women like that right now..."

I think Dick's reaction would be complete shock....who tf told you?! He has no defense but he tries to muster up one before realizing this is just making him look worse when EVERYBODY knows how much of a whore he is lol. He'd back off of you and maybe even mutter an apology before walking away to go collect himself.

He's furious as well...whoever told you will be getting an earful because they just ruined something precious to him. (yeah they did. totally not his OWN actions) If it was one of his brothers, he will be throwing hands.

Dick does very much care about others perception of him, i've said this before. He knew he had a problem and his other siblings have spoken to him about it and it affected him but never enough to change. It's just a far deeper issue than wanting a quick fuck in the expense of his partners...But seeing his baby sister look at him with just so much disgust and disappointment was enough to cause him to spiral. He's not proud of his actions and knows he's hurt and discarded of many, many women for his own satisfaction. It's deplorable. I can imagine him taking maybe a few days to himself, he's just in his head while being overtaken by heavy guilt.

I'm not sure if Dick would actually change for you though? I think he is even debating it. Yeah he's a yandere for his batsis but is his obsession with you enough to kick the other one to the curb? That's up to you. A hopeful person would say, yes he would. Anything for his babybat! He's going to do whatever it takes to prove himself again, anything to make you proud. This habit isn't worth it if hes loosing you.

My opinion? No, he won't change after his guilt wears off. He'll just pretend like he's reborn. Dick would try for like a week and then go right back to doing his habits. He's a manipulative piece of work and yeah, lying to you is bad but he wants his cake and to eat it too. He's not willing to give up anything that gives him a euphoric boost. Shh...what you don't know, won't kill you.

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lordprettyflackotara · 3 months ago

Text

decode || ticci toby || part two

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: overstimulation, brief descriptions of blood? moral delima , choking, toby’s a lil rough but it’s okay

Toby did not come back to see you.

It wasn’t anything personal. If anything it was for your own good.

Toby thought he did a good job at attempting to forget you. It had been a few months, the sound of your voice beginning to disappear in his memories. He had protected you by not mentioning you to anyone around him. His continuous obedience made The Operator completely forget about you. This didn’t stop Toby from wondering though. How you were, what did your dreams actually mean, what kind of attachment did the two of you have? He steered clear of the missions revolving around the forest. He opted to take on more complex tasks in the city. These tasks were much more hard for him considering his gruff appearance was far from traditional. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to switch either, Masky and Hoodie figuring he must be sick and unable to feel it.

Toby never really had an opinion on anything, nevertheless a preference when it came to missions. He did what he did when instructed and went on about his day. The Operator didn’t think much about it at all, while Masky and Hoodie came up with their own conspiracy theories. The longer Toby stayed away from the woods, away from you, the better things would be. That was of course, until he was forced to run into the forest for cover.

He zipped through the trees, grunting as he held onto his leg. The bastard that was supposed to be his target had more backup than he had anticipated. Physically Toby couldn’t feel the pain, but the blood gushing out of his leg indicated he wouldn’t be able to escape much more if he kept applying pressure to his right leg by walking. Toby scanned the area, his vision beginning to see multi colored specs from the blood loss. The mansion was no where near here. He dug in his pocket, scrambling to grab the cell phone Ben had custom made for him. The glass was shattered from irresponsible care, his thumb shaking as he tried to power it on. The screen failed to flash to life, causing Toby to panic. He was careless as always, not charging the stupid magical block.

He gripped it in his hand, continuing to limp deeper into the woods. In the distance he could hear yelling, the men seemingly too scared to chase after him in the eerie forest. Toby was becoming light headed, his tattered jeans soaked with crimson as he struggled to carry himself. Without any other option, Toby had one simple thought: he was fucked. He had lost one of his axes in battle, having thrown it at an opponents skull. He was down a weapon and possibly bleeding out. If he was smart he would’ve stopped running, allowing his leg to stay still. At least then he could’ve tied something around it to try to prevent the blood loss. But his well being never came first. As a proxy, your responsibility was to never be found. Dead or not.

Toby had no doubt he had out ran his pursuers, but the risk of being found in the forest by an explorer was too risky. He leaned against a tree, his vision becoming more dazed by the moment. He was tragically dizzy, his hand scraping against the bark of the oak tree before hitting the ground as he sank into unconsciousness.

Slowly blinking his eyes the sun was bright and merciless, causing him to screw his eyes shut before blinking rapidly. He forced himself to sit up, surprised to see himself in a living room. He pushed himself up all of the way, his jeans discarded and leg bandaged. "You look like shit,” You commented. His gaze landed on you, your legs crossed and a cup of tea in your hand. “Cup of tea on the table for you. Chamomile,” You offered. Toby couldn’t believe his eyes, seeing you right in front of him. He felt rather stiff, awkwardly popping his shoulders as he rolled them down his back. He reached over, grabbing the cup of tea with a shaky hand. “How’d you find m-me?” Toby asked. You shrugged, sipping your tea. “You ended up in my neck of the woods,” You replied. If it weren’t for Toby’s shock he would’ve chuckled, all of the forest belonged to The Operator.

“My turn, how’d you get shot in the leg?” You asked, looking at Toby over the rim of your teacup. Toby blinked, realizing his goggles were no longer over his eyes. “Assignment g-g-gone wrong. How do y-you know medical s-shit?” Toby questioned. You tilted your head to the side, setting your cup of tea aside. “What are you? An assassin?” You countered. Toby rolled his eyes, frowning. “W-what are you? A d-doctor?” He quipped. You leaned back in your chair, smoothing down your pajama pants decorated with little dogs. “Well played. How about I ask you something much more important?” You suggested. Toby set down his teacup on your coffee table, noting it was made of glass.

“What happened to your face?”

Your question made Toby’s blood run cold, his eyes widening. He brought his fingertips to his gashed cheek, feeling the breeze of the AC. While knocked out you had taken off his mask. Toby went to spring at you, unable to feel his wounded leg and falling over. He fell onto the floor, grunting in frustration as he glanced down at his leg. You quickly crouched down next to him, cupping his wounded face with your small hand. “Hey, calm down, I just want to help you,” You say softly. Toby pushed himself up, shoving away your helping hand as he forced himself to stand. “Y-you can’t help me. I’m a m-motherfucking p-proxy,” He spat. You stood up as well, your eyebrows furrowed as Toby struggled to stay standing upright. “Is that what this means?” You asked. You grabbed his hand, flipping it over so that his palm was exposed. You had taken off his soiled bandages, revealing the chewed away flesh from him gnawing at his hands. However it also revealed something you found much more concerning, the proxy symbol carved into the palm of his hand. “Y-Yes. It’s also w-why I must leave,” Toby said, pulling his hand away from yours. He tried to reason with himself. Your intentions seemed pure, you saved him when you didn’t have to.

You didn’t understand and truthfully you couldn’t, Toby could never tell you about his life. You could never be apart of anything that involved him. If you did it promised you death, something Toby didn’t want for you. You grabbed his arm as he hobbled over to the dining room, noticing his clothes were cleaned and folded, sitting on the table. Your grasp made him willingly stop, his chocolate eyes meeting yours. “How do you not feel that? Your leg? The bullet broke into eight pieces. I had to extract it myself,” You asked. Toby stopped in his place. He sighed, realizing he might as well answer truthfully since you’d seen all of his secrets. “I-I don’t feel p-pain. Some sort of n-neurological disorder,” He answered honestly. You released his arm, watching him unfold his clothes. Toby felt bad for a brief moment, having you go through all of this effort for nothing in return. “There’s something that keeps drawing us to one another. I know you feel it,” You said. Toby paused for a moment, knowing the tug at his heart strings made your statement true. But he couldn’t risk it. Not only was everyone in his life dangerous, but he himself was a hazard.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about,” Toby argued. You grabbed his shoulder, turning him around to face you. “Yes you do! You’re telling me you get shot and somehow conveniently i’m there? I haven’t seen you in months and you don’t even thank me-” You began rambling, your rant being cut off by Toby’s lips pressing against yours. Teeth clashed with teeth, the kiss hot and heavy as he brought you closer to him. Toby couldn’t think, he refused to think. If he allowed himself to have anymore thoughts revolving you, it would become an infatuation. He’d become obsessed with the fantasies, obsessed with making them a reality. But there was no reality where the two of you could be together. The closest that he could get, was allowing himself to have you just this once. He guided you towards the dining room table, watching you jump up as his lips trailed down your neck. He began sucking harshly at the skin, nipping at it with his teeth. He liked the way you shuddered under the sensation. “I’m g-gonna thank you. T-then we’re d-done,” Toby huffed, feeling his cock growing hard in his boxers.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. He quickly unclipped your bra, knowing time was running short. The proxies and/or The Operator were definitely looking for him by now. He leaned down, peppering your chest with kisses before tossing the bra aside. He brought himself to your left nipple, taking it in his mouth eagerly. You groaned, his spare hand slithering down to your clothed cunt. “F-fuck-” You whimpered, bucking your hips against his hand. Toby could feel his cock aching, dying to allow himself to fully have you. But he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. “I c-can’t fuck you. B-but you’re gonna cum on my face,” He panted, releasing your nipple with a pop. He pushed you to lay back on the table, his hands fiddling with undressing you. Toby lowered himself onto his knees, ignoring the pressure he may have been applying to his wound.

He could feel the bandage soaking with fresh blood, something Toby willingly ignored. It would give him an excuse to stay longer and it wasn’t like he could feel it anyways. Toby grabbed your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. The brunette was nothing if not a determined, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. “S-such a pretty p-p-pussy,” He purred. You could feel your face flush pink, your hand finding his shaggy hair. Toby buried himself into your folds, mimicking what he had seen during porn. He listened to your body cues intently, noting which licks and sucks made you squirm the most. Toby couldn’t imagine anything hotter than making you cum in his face. It was not only a thank you, but also a memory he could look back on for the rest of his existence. His large hands kept your thighs pried open, his slender fingers digging into your plush skin. Toby didn’t really have any grasp of what being too rough was like, considering bruises were beginning to form from his harsh grip.

He lapped and sucked at your clit, making mental notes of what made you moan louder for him. His name sounded like heaven falling off of your tongue. Your unholy noises were shameless, echoing off of the walls. “T-Toby, please use your fingers, or something, please,” You whined, your soft eyes fluttered shut. Toby unsurely brought two of his fingers to your sopping wet entrance, briefly pulling away from your slick. He tried to listen to your body’s cues, your walls immediately clinging to his fingers and pulling them in further. You groaned at the stretch, your body trembling. Toby noted how tight your cunt was, compared to anything he had encountered in previous experiences. He spread his fingers out with a scissoring motion, before experimenting with how to make you feel the best way possible. To Toby it felt awkward, him trying to navigate the best way to ruin you. But you thought he was teasing, purposefully drawing out the experience. It was when he curled his fingers your back arched off of the table.

Bingo.

Toby curled his fingers again, grinning as your body reacted just the way he wanted it to. “You like that huh?” Toby asked mockingly, before reattaching his lips to your clit. He sucked harshly at the bud, finger fucking you as fast as he could. Your moans were incoherent babbles, your heart racing as the knot in your stomach tightened. “Oh my f- shit,” You moaned, your thighs tightening around Toby’s head. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to maintain some kind of composure as Toby devoured your cunt. Your attempt was cut short, your orgasm suddenly crashing over you as you came on Toby’s face. This didn’t stop the brunette, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm. It was only when he was running out of breath he pulled away from your clit. “Cmere,” He grumbled lowly, rising to his feet. His fingers continued to abuse your g spot, your sights dazed as you sat up. With his spare hand he grabbed your throat, squeezing the sides of it tenderly. You whined, the restriction of your airway only making you feel more euphoric. “Y-you like that? You l-like when I treat you like my p-p-personal whore?” Toby asked. He liked seeing how blown your pupils were with lust, your thighs trembling as he overstimulated you.

“It’s too much,” You whimpered, gasping as his grip on your throat tightened. He could feel your walls flutter around his fingers, Toby grinning sadistically as he shoved in a third digit. “T-too much? Cmon w-whore. Give me one m-more,” Toby commanded. You tilted your head back as brought you closer and closer to the edge. You tried to squeeze your thighs shut, Toby’s hand temporarily abandoning your cunt and slapping your thigh. “O-open em bitch,” He growled. You did as instructed with trembling legs, Tory abruptly shoving three fingers back inside of you. You finally met his dark gaze, his eyes filled with something far more sinister than you could understand as he glared down at you. You grabbed onto his wrist as you came again, your body shaking as you released again. Toby was going to continue, his own desires overriding your own, until a ringing from your doorbell made him stop dead in his tracks. He tried to not look as horrified as he felt, the brunette immediately pulling away. You swallowed, trying to get yourself pulled together as Toby scrambled to grab his clothes.

The doorbell rang again, this time causing him to hobble around hopelessly. You grabbed the remainder of his clothes, handing it to him. “Shh, go in the bathroom. It’s probably just a salesman or something,” You whispered. You guided him to your bathroom, shoving him inside. Toby grumbled to himself unhappily as he shoved on his clothes, realizing he left his axe on your dining room table. In the faint distance Toby could hear static, his heart dropping as he realized the fun was over. Without another thought he slipped on his boots and goggles, climbing out of the bathroom window and darting towards the woods.

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