#nine months to go is too long

[clownattack]

Whenever i am told thangs abt the leech i just go. What an embarrassing person gosh

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

do you ever just sit there thinking about your favorite ocs while violently shaking. god. clenches fist. They're So.

[skyward-floored]

*sweating as I realize the next brethren in a cradle chapter is going to be 2k longer then the last one*

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Cars should be banned. No more cars allowed. We can walk, bike, bus, plane or train everywhere we need. No more cars.

[todayisafridaynight]

im so sorry to my boy mitsu but getting his shit kicked in for just standing there still makes me laugh

[mihotose]

i feel like complaints about niji being treated differently to the other groups are forgetting that since niji began as a side project the seiyuu werent needed to be 'on call' to keep their schedules available for long tours and such and so they were free to take on other jobs of various sizes (including other idol franchise jobs). like thats the reason if someone isnt able to appear at a cross group live its a niji seiyuu

[firefighting-idiot]

*flops over* I finally completed the first draft of Kasen's pov for Murakami's citadel. It's sitting at 93 pages at the moment, so it's definitely going to get longer with the addition of new scenes. However, with a loose set of events as the foundation, I can start fleshing out more of the world building and also Kasen's relationships with other swords.

[yaksha-lover]

Someone New

Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.

Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)

GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)

i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts

Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.

The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’

His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.

You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.

You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.

You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.

You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.

Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.

Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.

As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.

-

You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.

He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.

“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”

“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”

Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.

You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.

“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”

“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.

He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.

-

When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.

“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”

“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”

You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.

You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-

You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar

You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.

Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.

You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.

When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.

You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.

-

“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.

It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.

A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.

‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”

He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.

Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”

You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.

With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.

-

When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.

You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.

You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…

iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto

Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.

Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.

Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.

That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.

You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.

“Hello, Prefect,” he says.

“Azul.”

Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.

“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”

“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”

“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”

Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-

“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”

Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.

You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says.

“It’s not.”

He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.

Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.

As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.

-

The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.

You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.

At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.

You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.

He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.

“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”

“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-

“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”

With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.

It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.

You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.

You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…

As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.

“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”

Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.

-

A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.

You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.

He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.

Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.

“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”

With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?

iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper

While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.

Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.

However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.

Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.

You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.

“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”

Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.

“What are you thinking about?”

He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”

You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…you could still find love?”

“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”

“I-I understand.”

When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.

“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”

With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.

It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.

The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.

Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.

v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit

Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.

He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.

Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.

Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.

Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.

“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.

You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.

You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.

He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.

When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.

It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.

-

The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.

You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.

Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.

He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”

You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.

“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”

You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”

He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.

-

Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.

“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”

Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.

“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”

Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”

When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.

“I’m just teasing you.”

You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.

Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.

vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud

The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.

And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.

You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.

The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.

It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.

Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.

Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.

Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.

“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”

“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.

“How do you know about that?

“Earn their love??”

“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”

“Huh. Okay.”

You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.

“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.

“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”

When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.

-

The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.

Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.

The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.

You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.

You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.

A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.

“Hey MC.”

“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.

Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.

“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”

“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.

“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.

“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.

“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”

“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”

“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”

“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”

“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.

You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.

-

The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.

“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.

“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.

“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.

“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.

“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”

vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia

You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.

That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.

With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.

When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.

It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.

“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”

You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.

“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”

-

Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.

You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.

“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.

“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.

“Human men are fickle.”

You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”

He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.

-

You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.

On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.

Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.

Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.

Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.

Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.

You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.

He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.

A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.

-

You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.

The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.

Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.

A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.

“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”

The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.

“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.

“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.

“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.

“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.

“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.

“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”

“And you, my king.”

The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.

He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”

“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”

He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.

The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.

This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.

“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”

He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”

You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”

He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”

There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.

-

You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.

When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.

It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?

The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?

Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, my child of man?”

Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.

viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion

Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.

Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?

[dotster001]

For Tuna

Summary:Grim does some interviews to find the perfect sugar dad for him you gn!reader x all boys in one way or another.

A/N:I haven't unpacked my tag list yet, so hopefully this is everyone!

Part Two Part Three choose your ending...

"Grim, we can't afford the bougie tuna. Put it back."

You'd missed it before when you were loading your basket at Sam's shop, but Grim had snuck in the expensive tuna. Now you were at the counter, trying to hide your embarrassment as you told Grim to put it back. Sam gave you a sympathetic smile, but still. You didn't need to add his pity to your plate of worries.

"Prefect, don't worry about it. I can take care of it."

You jumped. You hadn't realized Ruggie had lined up behind you with his own basket full of stuff.

"Yeah! Let Ruggie-"

"I couldn't do that, Ruggie, but thanks for the offer."

Ruggie grinned, "oh please, it's on Leona. He said I could get whatever I want as long as I come back with his energy drinks."

You made an unconvinced face, and Ruggie gave a playful wink.

"Trust me, your tuna won't even make a dent in his wallet. I could pay for your entire load, and still be able to pay off my student loans. In fact," he slapped down Leona's wallet, "Sam, add Y/N's groceries to mine, I'll take care of it."

Before you could protest further, Sam was ringing you both up.

And then Grim got an idea. A terribly, wonderful, awful idea.

"There, all settled. Plus now you can afford to fix your windows this month, or…." He looked at the cash in your hand, "well you can fix one window at least. And don't feel too bad for Leona. Eat the rich and what not," Ruggie patted your back comfortingly then left with his groceries.

"C'mon Grimmy, let's go," you said with a heavy sigh.

"Actually, I have something to do, Henchhuman. You go on home, I'll see ya later."

"Okay, but if you need me…."

"I'll be okay! Geeze you get so anxious without the great Grim. It's embarrassing."

You rolled your eyes and left. You would be so proud of him once he had finished though. He was excited already.

Heartslaybul Dorm….

"Mr. Rosehearts. Thank you for meeting with me."

Grim primly took out his pen and began to scribble on a clipboard.

"I didn't meet with you. You barged into my office," Riddle said, his arms crossed along his chest.

"I think you will find this meeting beneficial. It pertains to Y/N L/N."

Riddle relaxed a little, and raised a single curious eyebrow.

"You see, It has come to my attention, that Y/N and I do not have the funds to live comfortably. In fact, Y/N is practically starving to death! It has also come to my attention that you harbor some feelings for the prefect, and are in possession of a great deal of funds. Now," Grim dramatically looked up at Riddle, who's face was a shade of dark red. "How do you intend to provide for Y/N?"

Riddle opened his mouth, and Grim prepared himself for the worst, but…

"Wait, Y/N's on the market?!?!!"

Grim turned over his shoulder just in time to see Cater run in, tea tray in hand.

"He's only taking applications from rich people."

"Not a concern, housewarden!" Cater cleared his throat. "Hi, I'm Cater Diamond, and my dad is a banker."

"Oh!" Grim made a note on his paper. Riddle stood up abruptly.

"You only talk to your family on holidays, I wouldn't call that a solid source of income-"

"Yes but I'm a people pleaser, so I'll probably follow in his footsteps. So I will also have a banker's salary."

Riddle turned to Grim in a panic.

"I'm going to be a doctor!"

"Oh!" Scribble scribble.

"Oh please!" Cater rolled his eyes before conspiratorially leaning into Grim. "We both know Riddle. He'll work long shifts, day in and day out, and he'll never come home. Meaning poor Y/N will be trapped in a lonely loveless marriage. Meanwhile, I'll work my nine to five, and be home in time to gift you tuna, and keep Y/N warm at night."

"You think Grim cares about that?" Riddle shoved Cater out of the way. "I'll make time for Y/N. Plus my salary will provide double the tuna for you."

"What's all the yelling about?" Trey entered the room, followed by Ace and Deuce.

"Don't look at them, those three are poor as fuck. I mean a baker? Blech, disgusting," Cater apologetically smiled at Trey. "No offense."

"What?" Trey said, feeling more confused than he ever had been.

Grim clicked his pen closed.

"Thank you for your time. I have more interviews to conduct, but I will be in contact if you get through to the second round."

He scampered out of the room as Riddle and Cater nodded after him.

Savannaclaw Dorm….

Grim sat at the foot of Leona's bed as he tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"How can I provide for Y/N, huh? You mean the little demonstration Ruggie gave this morning wasn't enough?"

Grim tapped the pen impatiently against the clipboard.

"Mr. Kingscholar, it is important that you participate fully, or I will remove you from the list entirely."

Leona groaned.

"I receive a….certain amount of, shall we say, an allowance."

"And how much can I expect from that? I have a lot of people to interview. Please don't waste my time."

Leona looked over at Ruggie, who was folding laundry, then gestured Grim closer, before whispering a number into his ear.

Grim gasped, then hastily scribbled something onto his clipboard.

"We will be in contact with you when the second round of interviews begins." Grim stood up and hopped off the bed.

"Ruggie," Leona snapped, "Ensure my future relative makes it out of here safely. Let no one stop you."

Ruggie nodded in understanding as he escorted a proud looking Grim out.

Once they were halfway through the dorm, Ruggie began to speak.

"Leona has promised me a job with an excellent salary once I graduate. Just sayin."

"Won't he just take back the job if he finds out you're competing with him?"

Ruggie rolled his eyes, "Nevermind."

Jack left his room, and noticed the two of them, and began to walk towards them.

"Jack will make you get a job if you pick him," Ruggie whispered hastily. Grim hissed and sprinted the rest of the way out of the dorm.

"What's wrong with Grim?" Jack asked.

"Shi hi hi who knows?"

As Grim made his way to his second location, he was picked up by the scruff of his neck.

"Hey! What's the big idea?!?!?"

"Aw little sealie you're so cute!"

Grim stiffened.

"Fu fu fu," Jade laughed next to him. "our boss would like to have a word with you."

Grim gulped.

Octavinelle Dorm….

"Thank you for agreeing to see me," Azul said smugly.

"I didn't. Your scary twins picked me up and dragged me here."

"You see," Azul pushed his glasses up his nose, expertly ignoring Grim, "We got word that you were interviewing potential candidates for Y/N's future husband. I prepared some charts for you."

Azul pulled out several charts. Grim understood exactly zero of them. But he nodded thoughtfully and pretended to make a note on his clipboard.

"As you can see, my income is projected to continually go up until retirement. Plus my assets will continue to be of value, and my investments will be bringing in money for many years to come. I can safely say, money is no object. Plus, I am an excellent cook. You will never have to eat poor person's tuna ever again."

Grim made a real note this time just as the twins roughly turned his chair around.

"Now that Azul has had his turn, we would like to give our pitch," Jade said with an eerie grin. 

"You see, our parents run a certain…. organization," Floyd and Jade shared a grin before turning to Grim again. "Jade and I are the sole inheritors of this empire when they pass. Just keep that in mind."

"Also, people who oppose this organization have a tendency to, shall we say, disappear."

Grim shivered as he made a skull and crossbones picture on his clipboard.

"Awesome. Great. I'll be taking Grim now…."

"Sea Snake!" Floyd shouted, wrapping his arms around Jamil, who had silently snuck into the room. 

"Let go," Jamil hissed, wriggling away from Floyd. "Give me the cat."

"Aw, but we were playing with him…."

"It's alright Floyd. I think the three of us have made our point quite clear," Jade hummed, before the octotrio shared a laugh.

Jamil rolled his eyes before carefully picking up Grim.

Scarabia Dorm….

"Look, Kalim isn't going to brag for himself so I thought I'd bring you here and remind you that this entire dorm was funded by his family. And he will be inheriting said funds."

Grim nodded and made a note.

"What about you? I mean, I already know you aren't getting picked cause, well, " Grim pointedly looked him up and down. "But the other broke losers have tried to participate."

Jamil leaned down and gave a dark smile.

"I don't need money to win over Y/N," eyes flashing red as he spoke.

"Monsieur Fuzzball!" 

Grim and Jamil both groaned. It only took two seconds for him to be scooped up by the hunter.

"Non, non, do not struggle. I only wish to prove myself as a proper caretaker!"

Pomefiore Dorm…

Grim had never been so pampered, well fed, and relaxed in his entire life. Rook had provided snacks galore, given Grim the full on spa treatment, brushed out his fur, and was now massaging his sore kitty back.

"Monsieur Fuzzball, doesn't this feel wonderful?"

Grim nodded as Rook continued his massage.

"Just think, you could have this everyday!"

Grim groaned happily as Rook hit a tough knot.

Suddenly, Rook's voice was directly in his ear.

"All you have to do is give me the Trickster."

In that moment, Grim knew he would sell you for this life without a second thought.

But before he could do that…

"For heaven's sake I told you to find Epel, not this rodent!"

Rook immediately stopped the massage, to turn to his Queen.

"Roi du poison! I was simply-"

"Spare me," Vil snapped, before handing a struggling Epel over to Rook. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small card, gracefully handing it to Grim between two fingers. 

"I believe you are aware of my financial situation, but should you have questions, you can reach my manager on that card."

Then he left the room with a flourish, and the lingering scent of apple blossoms.

"You know I am willing to share the trickster with you," Rook whispered to Vil in the hallway.

"Ew," Epel groaned.

"As if I'd ever share," Vil smirked.

Outside the Ignihyde Dorm…

Ortho stood next to the tablet, holding Grin up so he could see what it said.

"So as  you can see from my bank account," Idia's voice said from the tablet, "Money is not and never will be an issue."

"It all looks good," Grim muttered as he made a note, "but I have to say it's a red flag that you couldn't come here in person…"

"Hey! Big brother is just busy with his experiment!"

"Yeah, exactly, thank you Ortho, for being the only one who appreciates genius. In fact this conversation is over. If he doesn't get it, then that's his loss. Ditch the noob, Ortho!" And the tablet floated back into the dorm.

Ortho gently set Grim down. "Look, big brother gets nervous around the prefect, that's all. But I think they'd make a great couple."

He gently patted Grim's head, then floated back in. Grim sighed, made a note about how Idia was a package deal, then continued to the final dorm.

Diasomnia Dorm…

"Small kitten, I am to be king of a country. Not only that, but I have spent centuries curating my hoard. Our nest will be always warm, and my perfect child of man will want for nothing," Malleus finished with a smug grin, as he leaned back in his throne. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Now you three can make your offers, or whatever."

"Me next! Me next!" Lilia said, cradling Grim like a baby. "I'm not as young as I look, and am on the best of terms with the queen and future king. I also have a great fortune built up! Kay, who's next?"

Silver timidly raised his hand.

"I just want to say, what about what Y/N wants? What if Y/N doesn't like any of us? What if Y/N doesn't even want to get married in the end? Or maybe they'll be just as happy with or without money?"

There was a long pause. Then…

"Silver's father is loaded and will do anything to see his children married and happy!"

"Fa-Lilia!" Silver hid his face in his hands in embarrassment.

"Same with Sebek. And his dad's a dentist!"

For once Sebek had nothing to say.

"Excellent, this looks very promising for you four," Grim nodded scribbling his final notes, "Now to-"

"GRIM!" 

Uh oh. He turned around and saw you storming in.

"Child of man!"

"Save it Mal Mal! I'm here for my rat," You scooped up Grim, placing him under your arm as you left the room.

"When will we hear about the second round of interviews?" Lilia giggled.

You answered by flipping them the middle finger without looking back.

The Hallway….

"What the hell, Grim? I'm not for sale!"

"I'm not selling you! I'm just trying to get you provided for!"

"Please! This is about tuna and you know it!"

"Who even told you?"

"Jack called me about an-"

"Ah! Prefect!" 

You and Grim groaned as you heard Crowley call to you both.

"Yes, headmage?" You asked through gritted teeth. You turned and saw Crewel was with him….wearing a bigger coat than normal.

"That coat looks so soft," Grim muttered.

"Yeah," you whispered back. "Wait, headmage, what do you need?"

"I heard your current allowance is no longer sufficient," he gently traced your jawline, settling below your chin, tapping up against it thoughtfully. "How does a little extra sound?"

You nodded dumbly.

"Good good, I'm too generous, I know," he hummed and walked off.

Before Crewel followed him, he smirked and patted the top of your head.  

"Good pup."

He stalked off. You stood frozen for a moment. Grim smirked up at you.

"You know, they look like they…."

"You keep that thought to yourself, Grim."

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic

[zylev-blog]

Danny was pissed. He was chilling in the Speedforce, waiting on his dad—the Flash—to show up when he felt something shift around him. He exited the speedforce to find that the timeline had changed again, and he had been written out of the timeline. He technically was a time anomaly now, and didn’t exist. So he talked to Clockwork, a ghost he’d gotten to know extremely well after Danny’s creation.

Danny was a clone of the Flash and Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) as part of an experiment that Lex Luthor had taken prior to cloning Superboy. Lex had wanted to know if the power ring was able to transmit anything genetically (it couldn’t. It was a wearable weapon, not a genetic thing.) but Danny had inherited Flash’s superspeed, so he wasn’t a complete loss. Danny wasn’t sure if he looked more like either man, considering they both wore masks. He had brown hair and green eyes. Beyond that, he tanned well, was tall for his age, and packed on muscle far easier than the Flash did. He hadn’t ever seen either man out of the costume.

After a talk with Clockwork, he decided he was just going to force his way back into his Dad’s life. Both of them, if possible. He arrived years before his creation by mistake, right near the start of the Justice League. By his estimates, the team had only been formed for a year before he’d arrived. It was strange; he both didn’t exist and was from the future. He guessed that it was around nine years before his birth, and since he was technically six months old, he was 9 years in the past. Thinking about this was going to give him a headache.

The Justice League was severely mistrustful of each other. They didn’t go out of their way for teamups, didn’t have weekly meetings, and almost pretended if the other members didn’t exist. The most recluse of them was Batman, of course. If any hero set foot in Gotham, they were booted out before they even got to downtown. Danny highly suspected Batman had the entire city on camera. The situation was weirding him out more than before. What had happened to the team?! He was used to everyone being one big family, and even the sidekicks having their own teams… speaking of sidekicks, why was Robin so small?! Wait a minute, that wasn’t the third Robin that he was used to, that was the first Robin! Baby Nightwing!

Thankfully for him, he still had his costume on this entire time as he zipped around the country, spying on the younger members of the Justice League. It was surreal watching everyone try to capture him, but he wasn’t going to be caught that easily!

Eventually his presence forced the Justice League into another teamup. Batman laid the trap out, and Flash lured him into it. The plan was so beautiful that he didn’t even realize it was a trap until he was caught in it. Green Lantern took off Danny’s mask, and for the first time, he looked at his fathers without a mask. They didn’t make the connection to him right away. It wasn’t until Wonder Woman’s lasso made its way around his wrist that the truth finally came out.

“Who are you?” Wonder Woman asked.

“Oof , hard question—ow ow oww—I’m being honest!” He struggled against the lasso as it started to burn him. “My designation was Dn-y, I go by Danny, though. I’m a clone.”

“Of who?” Batman demanded.

“Flash and Green Lantern.” The lasso was glowing brightly, indicating that he was telling the truth.

“How did you escape?” Flash asked.

He didn’t answer right away. He was trying to think about how to phrase the whole time traveling—timeline erasure thing when the lasso started to burn him again. “Ow ow! Sorry, I’m thinking! Ow! Turn down the settings on that thing, holy shit—okay, okay.” He winced, his words coming out in one breath as he quickly talked, “What do you know about time travel?”

Diana’s eyebrows were rising. “How are you able to resist the lasso for so long?”

“I’m not really resisting it.” He answered, noting the obvious deflect of his last question, “I just-oww—okay! My mind moves too fast for me to put into words sometimes and it makes me stop to think about it, but like, I’m not good at controlling the speed in which I speak all the time—owww make this thing stop burning me! I’m speaking honestly!”

Diana revoked the lasso, and he rubbed his wrist where his costume was starting to singe. He was still trapped in an anti-speedster prison, so it wasn’t exactly like he was going anywhere anyway.

“Why were you asking about time travel?” Batman asked.

“Based on the crickets chirping I heard earlier, that leads me to believe you guys haven’t had any experience in it yet.” He leaned against the wall of the prison, wincing as it shocked him with electricity. “Seriously? How paranoid are you, Batman?” He rubbed his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting with you people, but I feel so attacked right now.”

“So we have experience with it in the future?” Superman piped up.

“Yeah?” His tone of voice equated to a ‘duh’ tone. “Why would I ask what you knew if I wasn’t from the future?”

“How far in the future are you from?” Green Lantern asked.

“Nine years, maybe close to ten? Timelines are weird. I’m technically six months old, but at the same time I’m sixteen. Cloning is odd, but I was like, the first clone ever, so I don’t really have a basis for this sort of thing, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged. He seemed like he talked a lot more than the heroes did, but he didn’t know if that was because he was a chatterbox, or because they weren’t comfortable in each other’s presence. Either way, the silence was odd to him.

“How did you end up here?” Batman asked.

“Honestly? I don’t fully know. Don’t give me that look, Diana! I’m telling the truth.” He added quickly as Diana fingered her lasso again. “All I know is one minute, I’m chilling in the Speedforce, and the next, the timeline is changed and I’m nine years too early for my birth. You’d think the timeline would at least have the decency to spit me out in my own year, but nooo, it wanted to—“

“What’s the Speedforce?” Superman interrupted.

He tilted his head at Superman’s question, then turned to the Flash. “How long have you had your powers?”

Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”

“Oh boy.” Danny’s green eyes widened. “You don’t know anything about them, do you?”

“I do know things!” Flash deflected, “My suit doesn’t catch on fire anymore! I can run up to Mach 2! I can get from either end of the country in thirty minutes!”

He groaned loudly. “Oh no. Oh no.” He chewed on his thumb, trying to recall everything he’d learned about his powers from his Flash. While he hadn’t learned his or Green Lantern’s identity yet, he knew almost everything about their hero personas and a lot of personal information. They were just worried of the Cadmus connection and didn’t want their identity to fall into the wrong hands if they still could see inside of Danny’s head.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“Okay.” He ran his hands through his brown hair, making it spike up. “Hypothetically—“ he cut himself off as Batman glared at him. “Okay, totally real, but uh, Flash, let’s just say that I’m faster than you right now. A lot faster.”

“How much?” Flash took a step forward, obviously curious.

“From what we can tell, I’ve topped out at Mach nine.” He responded with a dry laugh, “But your speed was still a lot faster than mine. You’d never tell me what it was. I’m still growing though, and I’m getting faster. I’m able to beat my precious time by almost double each time we test. But my situation was complicated, and things were happening, and it was a mess.”

“Like what?” Superman asked.

“World war three. I think?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that he had picked up from Green Lantern, “Things got complicated. That’s why I was going to wait for…” his eyebrows scrunched together as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “It was you!” He turned to Flash. “You!” He jabbed a finger at the speedster. “You set this up! You set ME up!”

The heroes took fighting stances, but Superman took a step forward, blocking them from Danny. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay okay.” He was trying to calm down his anger, but he had been told by Green Lantern in the past that he had inherited the man’s anger issues. “Let me start at the beginning. This is going to be a long story, you might want to take a seat.”

Nobody moved, but everyone was tense.

“Or not. Okay. So my creation starts with Lex Luthor.” He noticed Superman stiffen. “He used me as his trial, if you will. Once he got a successful attempt at cloning—me—he moved onto his real target. Cloning Superman.” Danny’s green eyes hovered onto Superman’s blue ones. “He was successful.”

“What happened?” Superman’s voice was unnaturally quiet.

“Well, at first, Conner wasn’t showing that he had all the powers of Superman. So Lex tossed him aside and tried again. The second attempt was more successful than the first. But cloning Kryptonian dna was hard, I guess.” He shrugged. “The second clone lacked basic emotions. Empathy, remorse… it made him the perfect little weapon for Lex. But eventually, the clone’s anger and Lex’s greed got to a point of no return. Lex was elected President of the United States and uh…you can probably see where this is going, right? While the fighting hadn’t like…’officially’ started,” He used his fingers to create air quotes around the word ‘officially’, “Things were getting tense. See, we couldn’t take the clone down because Lex had wrote out the Kryptonite deficiency out of his weakness. And the clone had all the strength of Superman and none of his remorse…”

Superman looked pale. “I see.”

“So Flash and I came up with a plan.” He turned back to his father, “We were going to travel into the next dimension for help. From what we could tell, that dimension was full of god-like beings, and one of them actually helped me out earlier! But for a lot of them, they ask for a price for their help. But anyway, Flash and I were going to take our case to the King and plead for help. I was waiting for Flash when the timeline reset and I found out that not only did I not exist, but I was nine years too early.”

“What are you going to do now?” Green Lantern asked.

“Dunno,” His voice dropped as the reality hit him. He wasn’t going home—his home didn’t exist anymore.

[prazinos]

Miguel O’Hara NSFW 18+

You’re riding Miguel, his hands are on your hips as you bounce and grind. He’s telling you how good you’re being for him.

“such a good girl cariño” he says softly, fingers digging into the plushy fat of your hips. he’s grunting and groaning underneath you, smiling and allowing his fangs to show.

“making me feel so good” he grunts “such a good slut for me. my little cumdump aren’t you?”

you’re not exactly sure why, but you suddenly have the urge to slap him. You’ve only ever done it when you’re dominating him but you have this itch to find out what happens if you do it now.

your hand comes into contact with his cheek swiftly. his eyes shooting open and darkening.

before you know it you’re on the bed, and he’s pounding into you, his claws shooting out and coming around your neck, but instead of wrapping around your neck, his claws dig into the mattress below, no doubt leaving holes and leaving you no where to go.

you’re a writhing mess under him, moaning as tears of pleasure spring to your eyes.

“really think you could slap me and get away with it? huh?” he asks mockingly. grinning as you whine.

you practically white knuckle his arm as you come. you can hear yourself getting wetter as he groans and pounds into you almost inhumanely fast.

“t-too much!” you cry out, the overstimulation making your vision blurry. Miguel only chuckles darkly at you “oh really honey? should’ve thought about that before you slapped me” he grunts.

you moan loudly at a particular thrust and you shut your eyes, only to feel a slap to your cheek, not enough to actually hurt but enough to sting.

“come on honey, keep your eyes on me. that’s it good fucking girl” he groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy

“you want me to fill you? huh?” he asks, and you nod enthusiastically.

you whine as you feel him bring his hand down to your lower stomach, and you can feel his cock causing a bulge.

“feel how deep i am? God me being this deep i’d definitely get you pregnant. You’d like that though wouldn’t you? You’d love having a nine month long reminder of who you fucking belong to” he grunts as his seed shoots inside you.

his seed filling you triggers your second orgasm. your legs shaking as Miguel takes his hand off your neck, retracting his claws.

“So cockdrunk you could barely respond cariño” you hear him whisper, kissing your cheek.

and just like that, your loving Miguel is back and ready to take care of you.

[mooshywrites]

Bedtime Stories

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

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A/N - Halsin has ran himself ragged with bedtime stories, his charges demanding to hear a tale or two every night. He comes to you for help, hoping you have a few stories to spare. Unfortunately, this simple ask is going to leave the two of you with very little sleep tonight

Word count - 3.3K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, fingering, dirty talk, size difference, vaginal penetration, cream pie, established relationship, smut with plot, minor spoilers, mentions of past violence

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“Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

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“And that’s when I knew I was a goner.” Halsin said, his voice low and serious. You stifled a giggle, worried it would pierce right through the tense air. There wasn’t a single breath taken in the expansive silence.

”What happened next?” A tiny voice whispered from the semi circle before Halsin. It came from a tiny tiefling girl, one that was hanging on every single word of the Druid’s story.

It was adorable watching them, watching your love tell tales to the children you were charged with taking care of. He was rather animated in his stories, hushed voices and sweeping gestures, speaking of beasts and demons and giant brains touched down to earth to take over the land.

The kids ate the stories up. Listened to him as if it were the last story they would ever hear. Each one of them could throw quite the impressive fit in the evening, demanding that Halsin talk them to sleep. He always gave in, sometimes having to make something up on the spot. You would think that with as long as he’s been alive, he would have plenty of stories to tell, but you knew all too well that most of those stories couldn’t be told to little ears.

You loved the evenings, though. Loved watching the gentle giant try his best to calm the terrifying horde of children. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as you looked over the kids. Most of them had the same story. Lost and forgotten children, victims of the horror that occurred a few months earlier.

Only a few of them had actually told you what happened to them, but it was more or less consistent. Their parents had been killed, turned, or were simply missing in the fight against The Absolute. You didn’t know during the journey itself how many villages had been affected by the cult, but each one of these cubs were a testament to how deep the violence ran.

You could still remember the look on Halsin’s face when you came across a tiefling orphan in the streets of lower Baldur’s Gate. There they were, standing over their parents' bodies. The two older tiefling had been unfortunate murders dedicated to the god of murder himself, Bhaal. The Druid’s face hardened, his words harsh as he wondered how many children had been affected in a similar way

That little tiefling was one of the first that Halsin scooped up to rescue.

Since then, you acquired quite the group of wayward souls. What was it that Halsin said? Right, nine wagons full of the little angels. At first you had been completely overwhelmed at the thought of so many little mouths to feed, little minds to grow, little hearts to mend. But Halsin took it all on the chin, always seeming to know exactly what to say or do.

Yet, the panicked look he’s giving you right now? Maybe your bear wasn’t equipped to handle all of what the children required.

“Then…” You started, beginning to move around the semi circle of kids, your voice sinister and low.

The kids' attention turned to you, eyes wide and expecting. You could’ve laughed at how intensely they were staring, but you knew you had quite the show to put on if you didn’t want to be mauled by a pack of rabid cubs.

”Then Halsin stalked around the cave, trying his best to appease the Mother Owlbear. He knew with one wrong step…” You paused for a dramatic moment, making eye contact with as many of them as you could, “And he would be swallowed up in one gulp.”

You heard Halsin scoff and ignored it, seeing the reaction ripple through your tiny audience.

”How would the owl bear even eat Daddy Halsin!” A particularly brave kid questioned.

A valid question. My spur of the moment storytelling probably wouldn’t withstand professional attention to plot holes

”Well, because,” You pondered, standing up straight again. “The owl bear was the biggest one we’ve ever seen. Just one of its claws was bigger than any one of you little cubs.”

One of the kids, a pale ginger half elf, stifled a shriek. She clung to her brother who was putting on a very good show of bravery, though he was a shade paler than usual.

Note to self - Less scary, more story

”If you want to know how Daddy Halsin escaped, you all have to be good and get some sleep.” You ended, putting on a warm smile.

Groans echoed around you, the kids obviously not happy with the cliffhanger in their bedtime story.

“Aht, ah, ah, lovelies. Bad kids who don’t listen to Miss Daddy Halsin get eaten by giant owl bears.”

That seemed to do the trick, the children scrambling over themselves to crawl into their bedrolls. Halsin had let them choose where to put their beds, most choosing to sleep in the equivalent of a pile in the corner of the grove. A few slept a few feet away, but the proximity to your quarters seemed to keep all of their mind’s at ease.

You smiled as Halsin came bumbling toward you, a tired smile gracing his features, “You’re always better at getting them to bed than I am, my heart.” He muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. You leaned into the touch, his large hand warming the small of your back.

”What can I say, terrorizing kids is my specialty.” You teased, looking over the bundles of furs. You hadn’t realized how heavy your shoulders felt until now, how hard it was to keep your eyes open.

Ever perceptive, Halsin knew how exhausted you were as soon as you did. He chuckled softly and let you go, “Go on to bed, sweet. I will kiss foreheads.”

Any other day, you might’ve argued. Kissing everyone goodnight was one of your favorite parts of the night. But you were tired, and, well… there were a lot of foreheads.

You padded towards the large stone door, making your way to the room you and Halsin shared. When the children first arrived, it made you nervous to think of them out in the open, separated by a thick slab of rock. Practically no sound got past the opening, after all. Halsin kissed away your worries, assuring you there were a plethora of animals who would keep careful watch over them. Half of which were even nocturnal.

Without any worries, and a slight feeling of fatigue in your bones the sight of your bed was a beautiful, beautiful scene. You sat on the edge of the bed, idly running your hands across the deep set carvings etched into the wood. It had taken weeks to convince Halsin to make you a bed frame, even longer to convince him to actually sleep on the bed and not the ground. After enough pleading and many a kiss, he finally completed the process, even detailing the wood with his whittling tools.

It didn’t seem long before Halsin appeared in the wide doorway, expression light. “Those little ones will surely be the death of me.”

”I’ve heard it said that being around children makes you feel young again.” You mused, tucking your legs under the thin blankets.

“Whoever says that is a fraud. They only make me feel much, much older.” He laughed, coming over to sit at your feet. “They love your stories, my heart. Perhaps you should be in charge of that for now.”

”No, I simply couldn’t.” You said decisively, shaking your head for good measure.

“And why not?” Halsin asked incredulously, hands coming up to rub your feet. You knew that his movements were a thinly veiled attempt at bribery, but you wouldn’t be weak enough to fall for it this time.

”They like your stories more.” You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut as you enjoyed the massage. “I like your stories more as well.”

”It’s difficult to tell stories with you around.” He said quietly, eyes trained on you. You met his gaze, seeing a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

That smile never meant anything good.

“What do you mean?” You asked simply, feigning ignorance. You could try to ignore the way his hands moved higher up to your calf, but you knew that focus would be short lived. No, if the Druid wanted your attention, he would have to earn it.

“I mean… How am I supposed to be present enough to tell a story when nature’s most beautiful creation herself is standing mere feet away from me?” His voice was a half a note lower than usual, barely perceptible if it were anyone but the man you loved.

”You flatter me.” You whisper, not trusting your voice to hide the way heat began crawling its way through your stomach.

Halsin leaned in, pressing a kiss against your jaw. His words tickled your skin, warm breath brushing over your ear as he spoke, “Oak Father, preserve me, how am I supposed to focus on anything when your sweet scent washes over me at even your nearness?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind already becoming fogged with clouds of desire. “Maybe you are just less skilled at focusing than I am.” You responded.

He pulled back for a moment, still smiling grinning. “You think you can get through a story while being distracted?” He prodded

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. You knew the feeling that crawled through the back of your mind. It was the same one you had when you knew you were about to walk face first into a trap. One you just couldn’t place, exactly.

“I suppose so.” You countered, arms coming up to cross in front of you. “What story would you like to hear?”

”Hmm.” He thought aloud, pausing for a moment. You found your gaze fawning over him during the brief break, appreciating the way his shoulders flexed, his hands never pausing the foot rub. “Tell me the story of how we first met.”

”That’s it? What’s the catch?” You inquired suspiciously

“Catch? Why would there be a catch, my heart?” His expression screamed ‘innocent’ but your intuition screamed ‘SCHEMER’

“Fine. I’ll tell you how we met without getting distracted.” You started, leaning back against the wall. “I had heard you had gotten captured at the goblin camp. A very intelligent move by th-“

You faltered slightly as Halsin leaned back forward, lips brushing over your collarbone. You could practically feel him smirk against you, words muffled slightly, “Why did you stop? Distracted already?”

You felt a surge of defiance, a deep sense of determination against his taunting. It didn't matter how flushed your cheeks felt at the current moment, you would be getting through this story.

You would be the one to win.

Your voice continued on, a bit shakier than before, “So I decided I needed to break you out.”

Halsin’s lips continue to mold against your skin, peppering slow, teasing kisses along your shoulder. “I asked around quite a bit about you, but no one seemed to know exactly where you were.”

You caught another gasp as Halsin’s hands wrapped around the small of your back, toying with the ties of your bodice.

No. Focus.

”When I realized I would either need to break or sneak into the goblin camp, I also realized I was much too weak for either.”

“Mnm” Halsin responded, signaling you on.

Only, it was difficult to continue on. You felt the ribbon of your dress completely loosened, the delicious warmth of the Druid’s hands against your bare back. You swallowed thickly, trying your best to ignore the feeling.

“I needed to get stronger, so I could save the helpless first Druid,” You muttered, annoyance obviously present as you tried your best to keep your thoughts straight.

”Oh, my heart.” Halsin murmured, deftly pushing the fabric off of your shoulders and down to your waist. You shivered slightly, feeling your nipples pebble through the material of your underclothes. Halsin’s attention went straight towards the raised mounds, a strange sort of irreverent glint in his eyes. He looked back up at you, smiling softly. “You don’t know the meaning of helpless.”

With that, his mouth dipped down, catching a clothed breast in a gentle nip. You had to grate your teeth tightly to avoid the moan caught in your throat, thoughts holding on to your “story” by the thinnest of threads.

”Given up?” Halsin whispered again, a rough palm coming up to cup the other breast, kneading so lightly you might’ve been imagining it.

“No!” You snapped, eyebrows coming together as you mustered all the focus you could manage. ”When I finally found you, I never thought you’d be a-“

You couldn’t help the whimper that took over your sentence as Halsin dragged a thick finger over your clothed core. Your mind short circuited, wetness gathering almost immediately at a simple touch.

You knew, deep down, that Halsin had won. That it was hopeless to think you could’ve ignored his… distractions… in the first place. How were you supposed to ignore the way his mouth skillfully worked in tandem with his hand, the way his free hand had snuck up to render you speechless?

The only response the elf gave you was a low chuckle, his gentle touch beginning to rub circles around your heat devilishly slow. The sly cur, he wouldn’t even take the satisfaction of bragging of his win.

No, instead, he would just continue to see you undone by his hand.

”You're a cheater.” You whimpered quietly, finally giving up the game.

”And you, my heart,” He murmured, shifting in the bed slightly, “Are a sore loser.”

“Just… just touch me.” You responded, refusing to give him any more defiance than he already had broken in you.

Your druid was ever so gentle as he removed the rest of your clothes, leaving gentle kisses along your skin as the fabric slid off. Every touch, every movement left a deep need coursing through your veins. You might’ve been embarrassed by the depth of your desire if your mind had any room for such thoughts.

But no. The only thing your thoughts would entertain right now was him.

”By Silavanis’s grace.” Halsin whispered, leaning back, hungry gaze taking you in. “Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

Your cheeks reddened further, arms coming up to shield your intimate parts from his attentive eyes. You were never the best at taking compliments, Especially ones as beautifully and lovingly crafted as the words Halsin used.

”Do not hide yourself from me, my heart. Do not deprive me of your beauty.” His hands gently pried yours away, his smile gentle.

”I’m just feeling a little overdressed.” You said, gesturing to the fully clothed Druid in front of you.

“I suppose you’re right, my sweet.” He grinned, hands working quickly to rid himself of his clothes.

You took the opportunity to marvel at the man’s physique. The way his tan skin shone in the candle light, scars shining. His muscles pulled and relaxed as he moved, the entirety of him an artfully designed creation.

It didn’t take long for his lips to come back down to yours, catching you in a passionate kiss. It was slow and purposeful, his arms wrapping around you to pull you flush against him. His grasp was strong, his skin deliciously warm against you. Calloused hands found their way to exactly where Halsin knew you needed them, one on the soft mound of your chest, the other under the curve of your ass.

Your lips worked just as eagerly against him, small moans escaping occasionally. Your hands clung onto his arms, hips already beginning to push up desperately.

”Patience, my heart.” Halsin’s voice was low, rasped, clearly holding on to the last bit of rationale he had left.

You couldn’t seem to help yourself, pushing your hips harder, wetness dragging along his hard member.

”Oak father, preserve me.” He growled, gripping your hip harshly. If it were anyone but Halsin, his tone may have made you nervous. But with him… it only made you crave him more.

”Please, Halsin. Please, I need you.” You begged, not caring how you’d been rendered undone so easily.

You weren’t left wanting for long, Halsin shifting slightly to press the soft tip of his cock against your entrance. You clenched around nothing, whimpering with need.

Halsin winced, showing much more control than you could manage. “You must relax, my heart. Breathe deeply.”

You took a deep breath and held it, preparing yourself for the inevitable stretch of Halsin’s rather endowed length. It had taken twice as long to get this far your first time laying together, you thought he would split open completely. But now, your impatience was wearing thin.

As if he could read your inner dilemma, Halsin finally gave you what you wanted. The tension melted from your body, your breath rushing out as an airy moan when you felt him push into you. “God’s above!” You whined, trying to acclimate to the stretch.

Halsin’s brow was furrowed, mouth in a thin line as he looked down at where the two of your body’s met, “You look so perfect with my cock inside of you, my heart. So perfect.”

You would’ve returned the compliment, thought of something else to say, that is if Halsin hadn’t chosen that moment to thrust all the way into your awaiting cunt. You cried out in pleasure, Halsin giving you no more time to adjust as he set forth a harsh pace. Every other breath was a moan, the sound of Halsin’s labored breaths shock waves to your core.

His hand came up to cover your mouth, trying his best to muffle your lewd sounds as his head dipped against yours.

”My heart…” He murmured. “Mine.”

His tone was graveled, possessive, and you could tell instinct was taking over already. Your own heat clenched in response, earning another harsh growl from your gentle giant.

“Halsin, I’m-“ You stuttered, your mind not able to take in both the pleasure and sweet burn from his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I know, my heart.” He choked out, his thrusts becoming quicker. He drilled into you with short deep pumps, sweat beading across his forehead. “Silvanus himself couldn’t create a more beautiful sight.” He whispered lowly, his hips starting to thrust more erratically. “Not more beautiful than you filled with my seed.”

With that, your cord snapped.

Your heat clenched tightly, incoherent moans muffled against Halsin’s hand. Your vision was blurry, pure ecstasy running like molten lava through your veins. You felt Halsin’s own release erupt into you with a growl, his teeth nipping at your ear as he followed through with his words.

For a moment or two, you both stayed like that, heavy breaths as you came back to the land of the living after such intense highs. When Halsin’s hand left your mouth and began to trace affectionate circles along your cheek, you finally trusted your voice enough to speak.

”I suppose I’m ready to admit defeat.” You smiled, bathing in the warmth of Halsin’s affectionate gaze.

“Surely you didn’t think I would’ve let you best me in the art of bedtime stories?” He chuckled, landing a kiss against your nose.

”We really must be careful doing things like this.” You teased, pointing to where the two of you remained connected. “We’re going to end up with yet another little one to take care of.”

You squealed into a giggle as he rolled the two of you over suddenly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You snuggled into his warmth, deciding that cleaning up would better be left for tomorrow. Right now you were content being tucked into Halsin’s strong, steady arms.

“Oh, I’m not sure, my sweet.” Halsin smiled, eyes meeting yours with a look full of love and affection,

“What’s one more?”

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

hoodie season || Chan x Reader

Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.

A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.

Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!

It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?

It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.

“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.

“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”

He nods, and that’s all there is to it.

It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.

After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.

“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”

You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.

“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”

“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.

He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.

 The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.

“Just in case you get cold.”

You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.

“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”

Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.

 You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.

He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.

“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.

Chan beams.

His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.

You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.

It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.

He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.

“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”

“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”

It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.

“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.

You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.

It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.

Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.

“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.

You miss the way he pouts at you.

It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.

“What was that?” you ask with a frown.

Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.

“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”

You blink at him.

“…because they’re your hoodies?”

He opens his mouth, closes it.

“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”

You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.

“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”

The blush spreads.

“Do you like it when I wear them?”

You’re just having fun now.

“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”

You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.

“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”

He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.

You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.

So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.

taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

Masterlist

[pandoraslxna]

Luna love PLEASEEEEE HEAR ME OUT‼️ Dilf!Jake getting mad at human!reader when he catches her on her room in the science lab using toys instead of him (that are not even close to his length btw), and fucking her dumb. Like fucking some senses to her, with degradation kink pretty please?

Pent up and stressed out

Jake Sully x female human reader

Words: 3.7k

Summary: Jake knows just the way to help you relief some of that pent up frustration.

Warnings: explicit smut, use of toys, caught masturbating, age difference, size difference, p in v, oral, degradation, praise, dirty talk, use of daddy (once), brat tamer dilf!jake

It was the melting-pot of earths greatest minds, a central locus for innovation and invention, a modern day renaissance. It was where scientists went to work on the next next best thing, before the next best thing had even arrived. It was where everyone who was anyone in the scientific community would go to start a new life and get their hands dirty on real science. And of course, the science at the RDA’s Laboratories was very real –and very dangerous. But what's life without risks? If life gives you lemons, use the decaying remains of those lemons to invent the best damn anti-lemon device possible! (And maybe colonize the poor Lemon farmers home too, while you’re at it.)

Well, at least, that was the marketing for Pandora. And to be honest, in the very beginning it was this ideal (and quirky) view of how the RDA worked that you had fallen in love with all those years ago when you worked there as an intern. That was, before you figured what these limb dicks were actually doing here.

Of course they don’t tell you about that war stuff back on earth. They don’t tell you about the natives, the blood that will stick on your hands, the flora and fauna they promised you to study to be burned to ashes because apparently mankind needs apartments and streets and fucking beer on this exomoon.

You were tired of how things worked. You were tired of the long hours, of snappy managers, of being shuffled from lab to lab for no apparent reason, of working on projects for six months at a time and then being told they were cancelled –and sometimes finding out later that some of them had been handed to a different scientific team. You were tired of how cavalier some of the higher-ups seemed about handling dangerous technology and killing innocents. And you were tired of the secrecy about this insanely morally wrong war.

That’s when you had decided to switch sides. Of course switching to the human / na‘vi revolution might’ve been the morally correct way, but what they don’t show you in the contract is, that this path doesn’t come with the luxury of working at high technology laboratories with dozens and dozens of other scientists to share this massive amount of work with. It doesn’t come with unlimited food, water, electricity and other much needed resources. Oh and remind me, who was complaining about the long hours at the RDA earlier? Yeah, that was pretty much nothing, compared to the fact that you hadn’t touched your bed in forty-nine hours.

Life on Pandora had definitely not been what you had expected when you first arrived here. The only difference now was, that you now did it with pleasure instead of guilt.

Working in the labs at high camp was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to you, but doing the right things never comes easy.

Sure, it took a while to get used to the power running out every few days and having to bath in a river, eating whatever the forest gives and oh, let’s not forget the eight feet tall, blue teenagers lingering around in your work space accompanied by a half naked tarzan with painted on stripes, making it extremely difficult to focus on your work.

Speaking of concentration…

"Kid, why the hell are you still here?"

"Huh, w-what?" You awoke with a start, and for a moment you didn't know where you even were. Your neck hurt as you lifted it up, rubbing the sleep away in your tired eyes only to be met with a pair of blue, muscular thighs standing right in front of your desk. Immediately, your gaze shoots all the way up.

“I said, why the hell are you still here?", Jake furrows his brows as he glares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's almost 3 am and this is the second night in a row that I catch you in here. Go. home."

"Jake we talked about this before", you roll your eyes at him, pushing away from the desk to walk over to where some of the scientists lockers stand. "I‘ll go, once I get this shit done." You make a gesture in the air to point at the petridish on your desk, with five ar'lek seeds inside. The healing potential of those seeds was something you’ve always took great interest in, especially during times where more of this medicine was needed than the Na‘vi could even harvest.

"No, you’re leaving right now", the clans Olo'eyktan and former marine said sternly. "No damn plant can be this important you’re loosing two days of sleep over it."

"Oh tell me about it…", you mumbled under your breath as you fiddled with the lock, flung the door open and reached for a small blue container. You unscrewed the lid and tipped the container ever so slightly. Out onto your outstretched hand popped two capsules, their smooth surface reflecting the fluorescent lights placed far above you. Down you gulped them, and up reached a hand to grasp a bottle of water. You took a swig.

Another day, another pill, another length of sanity in a place of madness.

The na‘vi behind you quirks a brow, "What was that?"

"Uh, this?", you shake the blue container and the pills inside rattle demonstrative. "Norm bought them from the raid last week. It’s a food substitutes. Helps me concentrate."

Caffeine in a pill, basically.

Jake let’s out a heavy sigh as he circles the desk and approaches you, the equipment and furniture around him looking comically small.

"You don’t needs pills, kid", he says, taking the container from you and placing in inside the locker a little harder than necessary to bring his point across. He’s towering over you without even trying, and you have to crane your neck all the way up to properly look at him. "What you need is sleep and a way to relief of all of that pent up stress. You’re here all the time, do you even eat? Have some time for yourself? When’s the last time you took a shower, huh?"

God, this man was a dad through and through.

You didn’t know if it was the difference in age or just his general authority, but whatever it was that made him talk to you like you were nothing but a fussy teenager, it was getting on your nerves. Even more than usually.

"Ha-ha very funny. Next you tell me to go visit a spa over the weekend. Oh, thanks boss that’s so kind of you for giving me a couple of days off", your voice had turned into a mocking tone, which makes both of his eyebrows raise in amusement. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to keep going, but your gaze only drops in embarrassment. "Leave me alone, Jake. I’ve got work to do…"

"See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about", he chuckles and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What?" You almost bark at him.

"You’re pent up. Quit acting like a little brat, go home and take care of it. Or I will."

Take care of it. Jake’s words whispered over and over and over in your head, a rolling loop that you thought might actually drive you insane. It’s not like you didn’t try, you really did. But as tempting as your bed might seemed to you, as tired as you were when you dragged yourself back to hells gate, you just couldn’t rest, couldn’t will yourself to sleep.

You’ve always spent your days with your mind full to the brim with various theories, studies and seemingly endless responsibilities, so much so that you often found it difficult to empty your mind for sleep. Sometimes you would recite the na’vi names of plants to yourself in your head ("Panopyra, Pamtseowll, puríhsa..."), over and over, like counting sheep, trying to memorize their names. You would take a quick jog around the building, read a book or sometimes even meditate. But some other times you simply preferred another method of relaxation.

Take care of it. Or I will.

He could be so insufferable when he was bossing you around, you thought to yourself with a heavy sigh as you let your hands run down your curves, feeling the soft swell of your breasts, over your stomach and the hem of your pyjama shirt.

"Is that an order, sir?", you grumble to yourself, mentally rolling your eyes at him as your fingers skim past the waistband of your shorts.

But eywa bless him to whatever heaven existed, this man was truly gifted with a body that served as material for your wettest dreams and dirtiest fantasies more than once before.

There had to be some rule against woman finding men around their fathers age hot. Men whose authority made them ten times more attractive, but just as annoying when they were treating you like a kid. Men that were exotic and alien and blue and tall and— There had to be some law that– that could protect you from the man that Jake Sully was. There had to be something in the books about dealing with this, with him. Especially if the only way you knew how to deal with whatever feelings you harbored for the much older ex-marine, was with busying your hands between your spread thighs.

Instantly, there’s this sensation, hot and burning and you allow it to rise within your core— allow it, and welcome it. You exhale softly, and the slick, wet feeling under your fingertips gives you a gratifying sense of accomplishment, fueling you to circle over your clit, gentle at first, but slowly adding more pressure over time. Your other hand clasps over your mouth, barely able to stifle a moan as the other finger that had been teasing your entrance slowly slips inside.

Breathlessly, you feel your head dip back further, as you recognize the heat slowly building, radiating from your core. Gyrating your hips, the feeling of wetness and pleasure builds within yourself, enough to make your hips buck up against your own hands. Thrusting your fingers in and out, you huff out a frustrated breath when you realize it’s not nearly enough to take the edge off.

Withdrawing your hands, you reach for your nightstand and pull the upper drawer open. It reveals a set of various toys, different colors and sizes, and you don’t need to think twice before you grab the biggest one and settle yourself back into the comfort of your pillow. It’s a blue dildo. Of-fucking-course.

It takes a few tries, the tension slips for a moment or two, but soon, you find the right angle to allow the slippery toy to slip inside and caress the spot you‘ve been seeking. More pleasure begins to wash over you, not unlike waves washing ashore, as you build up the tension your body craves you to chase. Your fingertips run in circles over your clit as you push the toy inside and angle it up, dragging the silicon tip along your soft, spongy walls and you moan, loud and wanton.

Your toes curl tightly as you approach what might just be the state of bliss you‘ve been seeking. The verge of Nirvana, quite literally, at your fingertips. Inhaling sharply, you feel that pleasure intensify and spread throughout your entire body. Your toes curl tighter, though you’re only vaguely aware of it for a moment.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your head lolls from side to side, before you pry your eyes open and glance between your spread thighs. The toy glistens in your arousal when you pull it out and your legs quiver when you push it back inside. In your lustful haze, it takes a few more thrusts, and then your eyes finally land on the door in front of your bed; widen open, with a big blue silhouette leaning against the metal frame, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side in his telltale stance.

Your movements stop altogether.

"J-Jake!?" You shriek, clenching your thighs shut.

"Hey, sweetheart", he grins lazily, then pushes off the doorframe to approach you.

"What are you–"

"Thought I’d check on you", he cuts you off and the sway of his tail behind his back reminds you of a cat that just caught a mouse. "See if you arrived home safe and sound, and took care of that little problem how I told you to."

The mattress then dips as he puts a knee on top of it and reaches for your ankle. You squeak when he pulls your towards him with barely any effort, then spreads your thighs with his entirely too big hands on either one of your legs.

"Looks like you needed it bad, huh?", he chuckles and a deep flush of embarrassment settles on your face when he twists the toy inside you and then gently pulls it out. "But you could’ve just asked, you know? Instead of using these pathetic little toys. No wonder you’re always this pent up when that’s what you’re using."

The toys is tossed aside before you can open your mouth to object, your chest heaving in frantic pants as he kneels onto your bed with a creak of your old mattress.

"Jake..?", you whisper, the sudden, uncertain tone in your voice making him lick his lips in anticipation as you pushed yourself up on your elbows.

"Shhh, let daddy take care of you, yeah? Gonna relief some of that stress so my little brat knows how to behave again. That sound good?", he asked, with a fucking smug shit-eating grin. If only your face wasn’t bright red in flustered embarrassment, Jake would’ve taken the provocative roll of your eyes more seriously as you let yourself fall back against the sheets.

"Not a brat…", you mumble, but your eyebrows are only knit together for a second before they shoot up in surprise when grabs the underside of your knees and folds your legs so your ankles almost touch your ears. "F-Fucking, sh– ah!" The moan breaks out of you in a wheezed curse the very moment Jake’s tongue goes flat between your wet folds and his lips close around your clit.

He starts rather roughly, sucking hard on that little bundle of nerves until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. His tongue dips down to lap at your arousal, groaning against you as he pushes past your entrance and fucks you on his tongue. Your moans turn into wails, legs helplessly twitching as he keeps them bend to devour you.

You couldn’t hold out for long, not against the way he knowingly toyed with you, suckling and flicking over your clit, the strange growl he made between filthy slurps vibrating against it. You heard your own voice, a soft river of sounds, murmuring words that weren’t words, curses and moans as you felt the release start to pool in your belly, hot and tingling and restless. Until you couldn’t fight it anymore, thighs trembling around his face and you came with a gasp of his name.

But Jake doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop until your shaking from overstimulation, until your slick is running down his chin and even then, a desperate sound of frustration escapes you when he finally lifts his head up from between your thighs. The waves of your first orgasm had barely subsided, just to the point where your limbs felt heavy, your body drained and wrung out, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, and it made him laugh, how needy you are.

"Noo", you complain, "don’t– don’t stop!"

"Ah, don’t worry sweetheart I’m only getting started", Jake promises with a dirty smile, shuffling his hips closer to yours before he pulls down his loincloth just enough to reveal his throbbing cock. There’s a certain glint in his eyes as he watches you swallow thickly at the sight. Fuck, he’s big.

"Been acting like such a desperate slut, rolling your eyes at me and talking back under your breath", he says lowly. Jake keeps you in this bend position, but takes hold of his cock at the very base before he drags his tip through your spit and arousal slicked folds. "Should’ve already put you in your place weeks ago", he goes on, "But I knew you just needed your needy little holes filled by a big cock, right?" He pauses for a second, and then you feel the mushroom-like tip prodding against your entrance. "Needed to be fucked like the slut you are. Don‘t worry, doll face. M‘gonna fuck you right to sleep, help you relax reaaal good." And then he pushes inside.

The stretch makes you choke on a scream that threatens to rise through your body and Jake groans at the suffocating heat around his length. "Shit baby, still so fuckin‘ tight, ain’t ya?"

Your hands reach out for his biceps, short nails digging into his skin, sinking crescents into the blue stripes on his arm, your whole body quivering, mind fuzzed with a long-forgotten drowsy sort of bliss.

"Feel me stretching you out? Those damn toys didn’t even loosen you up one bit." Jake grins. His lips are on yours then, his mouth claiming, and he swallows any sounds you might have made as you fit together like a hand in a too-small glove.

He moves, only a little, the springs groan and squeak as he rolls his hips, slow at first, then faster. Your lips are bruised by the time he breaks the kiss and his shoulders are scratched and he’s somehow even deeper, and then his thrusts turn harder.

He’s hot and heavy on top of you and it’s making you tingle and shiver all over.

Jake fucks you with precision, the tip of his cock hammers against your cervix, dragging along your g-spot on the way and it makes your eyes roll all the back inside your head.

"Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to feel", he chuckles, the sound cutting off into a low groan as he licks away the spit from your bottom lip. "Look at my little slut drooling fr‘me."

Your wet, velvety-like walls are heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increases his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was like music to his ears. Every time Jake’s cock brushed against your g-spot, your moans turned louder and your toes curled into your soles.

"Jesus, baby. You feel so good around me, perfect little cock sleeve."

The sounds he knocked out of you with the sheer force of his thrusts soon turn needy and higher pitched, as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could even proceed it.

"T-There, fuck Jake, right- right there", you mewl, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth. The man above you groans, half a grin pulling at the corner of his lips before he aims his hips to hit that spongey spot inside you even harder.

"Where, here? That your special spot, hm?"

"Uh-huh, yes! Yes, fucking shi– oh my god!" Your walls pulsate around him, squeezing and clenching his shaft. God, you were so close it almost hurt.

"Hmh, can feel you clenching, baby. You like it that much?", Jake chuckled, and you could only muster the strength to nod weakly. "Gonna come fr‘me, yeah?"

His hips only increased their pace from there, taking you harder, hands holding you tighter, tail coiling around your ankle to spread your legs impossibly wider and you felt so full, it was hard to imagine that there was any more room inside you, not even for his cum. And that thought alone was enough to tip you over the edge with a full body shiver.

His name falls from your spit slicked lips in incoherent brabbles and moans, greedily pleading for more, more more, until—

"Coming! I‘m coming!"

"Look at you", Jake mutters and he sounds so wrecked, so reverent and pleased with himself. "Gorgeous, so pretty when you come on my cock, sweetheart. You needed this, didn’t you? Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

Jake certainly knows what he’s talking about because if only there was a mirror where you could see yourself– You looked completely obscene, folded like a little pretzel, skin flushed with exertion and sheened with sweat while your hair is matted on your forehead. There’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth from where you had been unashamedly panting, lips red and plump from kissing and sucking on his tongue.

“My perfect little slut.” Jake pants out, snapping his hips ruthlessly into you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

Jesus, you were a real sight. It makes his balls tighten up and his cock throb inside you.

He was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this, groaning, before he finally pumped you full of his hot cum, until it leaked out around his girth. "Oh, fuck", Jake murmured and he sounded so far away, thick and rough. Your pussy squelched as he continued to lazily thrust into you. He groans, shattered, hips fucking erratically until they still deep inside you and the tight walls of your cunt milk his cock until he’s completely spent.

It’s only now that you realize how god damn heavy this man was on top of you. Thankfully Jake rolled off before you had to start gasping too badly for air, leaving your front feeling impossibly cold.

"And? Feeling relaxed?" He chuckled, rolling over to pull the blanket over the both of you before he tugs you close against his chest.

"Shut up…", you make out roughly and it’s only then that you realize, you had screamed yourself hoarse. You want to roll your eyes at him, but they unwillingly flutter closed before you can even try to.

"Told ya‘ I’ll fuck you to sleep, kid."

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Nursle.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 3.4k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).

[Part Two]

A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.

Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.

Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—

“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”

You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”

Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”

Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.

In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.

You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.

If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”

You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.

Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”

“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”

“Let me guess – maternity leave?”

Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”

Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”

This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”

“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”

You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”

“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”

“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”

Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.

You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.

It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…

This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”

You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.

He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.

He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.

You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.

You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.

He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”

“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”

It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”

You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”

You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.

“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”

~

Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.

“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”

You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”

That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.

“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.

“Geto Himari.”

[erwinsvow]

rafe’s the jealous type, though you had never seen it coming. he was your friend, just like topper and kelce, but somehow, it was never really like it was with the other two. you tried to ignore it for as long as you could, for the sake of the friendship, but it was getting to be too much.

you weren’t even his friend first. working as a summer intern for topper’s mom had led to a few chance encounters already with the boys when they’d drop by. it wasn’t until his mom insisted he take you along that you got to know them a little bit more. you were surprised at how well the four of you got along, even though rafe seemed opposed to you tagging along at first.

but you think you’d won him over in the next few weeks, and now months later, you could easily argue that you were the closest with rafe now. it was pretty apparent—he drove you everywhere, picked you up first and let you have permanent shotgun. when you need to crash after the party runs late, you always end up back at tannyhill, topper and kelce passed out on the couch downstairs or the floor of the guest room, always leaving the bed empty since they think you’ll be crawling in—though you never do. no, you’re asleep next to rafe on his bed, tangled limbs and sheets, waking up wondering if cuddling with your best friend was normal for everyone.

but you’ve never really had guy friends, so you ignore some of the warning signs. you think they’re overprotective, overcaring. you shove aside the thought creeping up, reminding you that only rafe acts like that towards you. you’ve convinced yourself it’s normal.

you’re always invited to tee time—though you mostly sit in the cart with your legs resting on the dash, reading your book and daydrinking. you think the outfits are cute, tiny golf skirts and matching caps, and it gave you an excuse to take the boys shopping—your favorite activity. 

rafe steps away to take a call and comes back to find you on the course, hands slowly trying out a nine-iron while kelce stands behind you, trying to guide your position. 

“no, plant your feet. firm, and then when you swing, twist like this-” it only takes another second, kelce’s hands barely settling on your waist to help you move, when rafe snaps.

“you’re shit at golf anyways, kelce, why’re you showin’ her?” you’re a little taken aback that he’s being so mean, but kelce just rolls his eyes, walking over to top while rafe heads to you. 

rafe doesn’t hesitate at all, doesn’t try to be polite and not creepy like kelce was. his hands go straight on your waist, lower to your hips. he presses himself right behind you, taking your hands in his to help you swing. with his help, you actually hit the golf ball this time, sending it flying in the distance. you squeal, jumping up and down and hugging rafe. you don’t catch the way kelce and topper exchange a look.

other days it’s a little more confusing. you think rafe just changes his mind a lot. 

you pack enough lunch for an army—which is just a necessity with the way these boys eat. topper’s just gotten some new fancy boat, and sarah’s busy so he invites you and kelce to take it for a spin instead. 

“rafe’s not coming?” you question on the phone, looking at the strawberries and peaches you’d cut up specially for him. you don’t know why you feel so disappointed—top says he’s busy with his dad, which is more important. your mood dampens up a little but picks up soon—you love spending time with kelce and topper anyways! you think you’re single-handedly fixing tops’s relationship with sarah and turning kelce into boyfriend material for this girl he’s had a crush on forever.

at the marina, you walk around looking for this new boat, the words top had used to describe it meaning little to you. you’re a little dolled up already, a pretty white coverup hiding a yellow bikini, a new one you’d just gotten. actually, rafe had bought it for you. he said he wanted you to have it.

“what you lookin’ for, kid?” you hear a familiar voice call out from behind you. you turn to see rafe, stepping off the druthers onto the dock with you.

“i thought top said you’re busy?” you ask, looking around.

“i am. what’re you doin’ here?”

“top said he’s bringing his new boat out. i’m supposed to meet kelce and him here but i can’t find it, wake, uh, something. i packed lunch,” you finish, holding up the picnic basket. “but i know he said you can’t come, such a bummer-”

“i’m comin’.” 

“huh? he just told me-” “i’m takin’ the druthers out. c’mon, hop on. i bet those idiots sunk that thing already.”

you end up spending the whole day on boat with rafe—reading your book and eating slices of peach while talking to rafe about everything under the sun. top and kelce blow up your phone but you don’t even see it until you pick it up to take a picture of the sunset.

you finally realize something’s going on at the house party at kelce’s. rafe picks you up and you play with the skinny straps of your dress, wondering how to tell him what you’re thinking. he’s a good friend though—he always knows when you get like this.

“spit it out, kid. what?”

“well, i was thinking maybe i should crash at kelce’s tonight.”

“why?” he questions, like it’s the stupidest thing in the world. you don’t catch the way his grip tightens on the wheel. 

“well, last night.. everyone was saying it’s weird that i always crash at yours. and kelce always offers, he’s got that pull out bed-”

“y’not sleepin’ at kelce’s. or top’s.”

“why not?”

“‘cause i said so. don’t ask again.” and though you’re used to getting your way, you listen. at the party once you get a few drinks in you, you find your way back to the sofa where rafe’s exchanging packets of white powder for cash. you end up next to him, legs splayed over his and dress riding up, watching kelce and topper play pong with some people you don’t recognize. 

“m’tired,” you mumble, playing with your empty red solo cup. only rafe hears you.

“shouldn’t have drank so much so fast. what’s wrong with you, hm?”

“just tryna feel better.. and you won’t let me try coke so-”

“shut up about the coke. not gettin’ anywhere near the stuff.”

“you let kelce and top do it-”

“you’re not kelce and top. how much clearer do i have to make it?” your eyes fill with tears—you’re trying so hard to not be such a girl, but everyone has their limits.

“well, you’re not my boyfriend, so i don’t have to listen to you-” it comes out louder, getting the attention of your friends. kelce and topper exchange a look, wondering if what they’ve been waiting for is about to happen. you don’t want them to see you cry, so you run off into the opposite direction towards kelce’s empty room.

“nice going, rafe.”

“yeah, man, she’s definitely gonna fall in love with you after that.”

��shut up.” 

rafe follows you, knows where you went. he knocks on the door, twisting the handle even before you get a chance to respond. 

“go away, rafe.” you sit on kelce’s bed, staring down at your shoes. rafe come and crouches near you, putting his hands on your knees to keep you firmly in place, even though you try to pull away.

“hey, c’mon, kid. m’sorry. there, you happy now?”

“you’re a dick. leave me alone-”

“i’m fuckin’ trying, here, okay-” you stand up, pushing him away. “trying to do what? make our friendship all weird? mission-fucking-accomplished, because i can tell you don’t want me around, so i’m-” you get interrupted, rafe rushing up to you and forcing you into a kiss. his arms tighten around your waist, holding you hard. you melt into his touch, kissing him back. things are making more sense now.

“and watch your mouth with me.”

“shut up. you don’t know anything.” you lean back for another kiss.

“guys,” kelce yells out from outside the door. “please do not have sex on my bed.”