*Please only answer this poll if you’re American, if for some reason you have a burning curiosity to know where the results are at I can send an update, I don’t want the results to be too skewed.
Feel free to tag/reply your state and which you identify with more strongly
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
thinking about roomie!suguru, who steps out of the bathroom with just a towel hanging loosely around his waist. it's dangerously low and his happy trail is... leading your eyes to a forbidden place. water droplets cascade down his temple and his neck, his scarred chest and his toned muscles.
he finishes drying his hair with another, smaller towel before slinging it over his shoulder. he gives you a warm smile. there's still a bit of sleep in his tired eyes but he looks fresh, he looks good.
(he looks more than good.)
the morning light shines in through the small window of your shared kitchen and he hums at the smell of coffee. you're an angel leaning on the counter, hands busy with preparing your drink as he steps inside.
he chuckles. he asked you a question but you didn't hear it. he smells so fucking good; the smell of his shampoo and his fancy conditioner wash over your senses and it's easy to forget where you are. his eyes flick behind you before walking over to you with a smug little grin.
he bores his sharp purple eyes into yours – he loves how you react to him. he doesn't shy away from it, he's cockier than he looks. he loves the attention, he loves to be in your spotlight. he wouldn't care so much if you were a stranger, if you were a random person on the street ogling away, ut you're neither of those things, are you? no, you're something else.
he exudes warmth as he towers over you, his head tilted down to keep his eyes on you. he wants to play with you a little – he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. eyes big and wide, lip tucked under between your teeth. he's good with people, he can read them like a book and you're no different. he sees you swallow a dry lump, he sees you grace him with a flustered smile as you try to brush by the fact that he caught you admiring him red handed. he sees the way you're taking deeper breaths than normal, surely just to keep your composure. he can't wait to break you.
his arm reaches behind you to turn off the coffee machine with a small click.
"wouldn't wanna make a mess this early in the morning, now would we?"
melting. crumbling. falling down to your knees. you hate how much he teases (you love it), you hate how patronizing he sounds (it's hot). he's the only one that can get away with it – a charming smile that hides his deepest desires of sinking his teeth into little lambs like you, soft eyes that hide the need to watch them unfold before him.
his gentle hands long to hold, long to keep and covet. he thinks about you a lot; your shared mornings and afternoons, your exhausted naps and bitter rants about your days. shy gazes and lingering touches, stupid jokes and the cute little hidden sounds he keeps hearing from your room in the late hours. he's being patient, he's warming you up.
he's just as infatuated with you as you are with him. he's just more subtle with it.
or is he?
because you've heard him, too.
you don't know whether he's doing it unknowingly or he's actually trying to make you go insane – whichever it is, you are ready to bend at his will. soft groans accompanied by a steady slick pump; you didn't mean to listen in. you just wanted to make sure he's okay!
ear against the wooden door, you listened to him think about you. your name was on the tip of his tongue, but it was too early for that. he wants to smear you with his honey, he wants to drag you in but he needs to wait for it. this is perfect.
he did know you're were there.
he heard the floor creak, he heard the cutest gasp that left your pretty lips. fuck, you're perfect. his head was lolled back as he stroked himself to the thought of your wide, doe-eyes. how flustered you'd be, how flustered you were in that very moment. he imagined your trembling hands and your stuttered words and his dick twitched in his palm.
he thought about inviting you in and just making him watch as a form of punishment, for being a little pervert. he shuddered out a laugh and watched a glob of pre-cum cover his own fingers before mixing with the saliva and spit that's covering him already. he thought about making you sit between his legs so he could jerk off right in front of your beautiful face, he thought about your wobbly lips, your teary eyes. the way your thighs would press together.
your fingers would itch and twitch and he'd make you place them on your legs. he wouldn't want you to touch. yet. maybe he'd make you apologize and maybe he'd make you kiss the tip. he thought about how good you'd smell, how good you'd taste. another raspy groan crawled up his throat and you were about to cum untouched behind his door. like a creep.
he loves it. he's proud of you, he wants to push you even further. he wants to see what else he can make you do. this is exciting and he can't wait to devour you whole as a reward after he's done bullying himself into your body and your mind. utterly loved and corrupted—
— you're meant for him.
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Haunted City
Danny could admit that pretending to be a "regular ghost" was pretty fun. He could hide in one place and scare people who were waiting for an open door and a creepy laugh.
Honestly, Danny could do a lot more than that, the ghosts people believed in were nothing like the ones he knew. He wondered if there were simply different types of ghosts, or supernatural creatures; it was quite likely, considering that the ghosts of the Realms weren't even of the same dimension so it wasn't a fair comparison.
Anyway, the halfa had spent a couple of days "haunting" Gotham. The place was too leggy and they needed a little excitement in their lives. Of course, this led to some rumors about a spirit suffering or something similar, he didn't really care.
The "heroes" of Gotham didn't seem to share his opinion, going through all the places that had been "attacked" (they were just jokes) and looking for some explanation before calling Justice League Dark, Danny had fun scaring them a little in the process.
But he wasn't too interested in being exorcised, banished or whatever they did with rebel ghosts, so he settled on a mansion that was too big for its few inhabitants. Scaring billionaires was almost therapeutic, although the butler didn't seem too impressed by his (minimal) efforts.
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