#this list would be much longer if I had the energy to do it

[iron-niffler]

not me sitting at my desk staring off into space wistfully thinking about what im going to do on december 19 at 11am after my last final as if i don't have ten assignments to do, a paper to write, two exams next week and 3-4 finals to study for

[gojorgeous]

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 

 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 

“Yes… Thank you.” 

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 

“Take care.” 

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 

“N-no–” 

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 

“‘M following your scent, baby.” 

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 

“You on birth control, baby?” 

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…” 

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

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[escelia]

New Sibling Just Dropped

Or Danny gets willingly isekai'd into the DCU and gets a twin out of it.

I know I disappeared from the face of the earth for a bit there, and there's stuff I should probably be updating, but I come baring different stuff this time :D

Just started this for fun, and I have at least one other chapter of it done, but idk how long this bout of inspiration will last, so I'm just rolling with it for now.

@flamingpudding look! i pulled a jason todd and rose from the grave!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was tired. The kind of tired you felt behind your eyes and in your bones, and weighed heavy with achievement. He was perched on the edge of a building in his ghost form looking over Amity Park with a soft smile as he watched Youngblood run through the park with human children, Cujo playfully on their heels. His galaxy cloak (which had been a coronation gift) billowed around his lap like a gas with stars twinkling inside. 

It had been a few years now since he took up the Crown of Fire and became High King of the Infinite Realms, and while he had accomplished many things since then, graduating from high school wasn't something on that list. It sucked that he wouldn't get to walk across the stage with Sam and Tucker, but in the face of all he'd been able to do for both Amity and the Infinite Realms, it was worth it. They coexisted now. There was still trouble every now and then, but Danny had helped the ghosts who insisted on staying in Amity Park find a place in their city where they could thrive.

Youngblood watched over the children of the city, Box Ghost started a box recycling center, Lunch Lady started a program to get food to families that couldn't afford it, and Pointdexter started reporting bullying at the school since he was already there. 

On the Realms' side, Danny shut down Walker's prison. Since it was his lair, he couldn't take it away from him completely, but it no longer housed the many ghosts the warden had considered "rule breakers." He'd given Walker a new set of rules to enforce and essentially took him under his wing as a royal soldier, kept under the close watch of Fight Knight, who'd defected from Pariah Dark so fast after his defeat that it was laughable. 

He'd done something similar with Skulker, though he was a harder case to crack. Unlike Walker, who was happy as long as he had a set of rules to enforce, Skulker wanted to keep hunting. He'd been recruited forcefully by Walker and Fright Knight after they caught him on his way to fight Danny again.

All in all, everything had begun to run smoothly now. The fatigue weighing on him reminded him that it had been hard to accomplish, and continuing to lead his double life hadn't made it any less exhausting. A cold breath rushed through his chest as he felt a familiar presence slide up next to him. 

"You didn't time out," Danny pointed out without looking to face the ghost beside him. Clockwork hummed in acknowledgment.

"Sometimes it's pleasant to watch time flow in person." It was Danny's turn to hum at him. 

"How are you feeling?" The Ancient asked thoughtfully. The younger ghost tilted his head pensively. 

"It's hard to say. I'm tired, but I'm happy. And also sad..." he paused to gather his thoughts. "I feel like I've done everything I needed to."

But not everything he wanted to do. 

"Go on," Clockwork pressed. The teenager did turn his head now to make a face at his mentor. If the guy knew how he felt and what he was going to say, why would he say it out loud? But the other just arched a brow at him and waited.

"Fine," he pouted. "I've spent so much time and energy finding places for everyone here. The GIW are gone, my parents stopped hunting ghosts, Jazz got into the psychology program at Stanford, Sam and Tucker are graduating today... I helped make that happen, I know I did! But they're moving on without me. They're growing up and I don't feel like I am."  

'I don't feel like I'm ready.'

Danny stopped to take a breath and wipe away the icy tears gathering in his eyes. He felt stupid for crying over it. He was 17 for Ancients' sake! Jazz would have told him he grew up too fast, but he still felt like a child. He had no idea what he was doing! And yet! And yet... he felt...

"But you also feel ancient, right? Like you've been around too long and seen too much?" Clockwork said as though he were reading from a script. Danny sulked. Stupid time ghost with his dumb Time Stream TV or whatever. 

"Yeah..."

"All Ancients feel that way. Though you may be feeling unbalanced in more ways than one because of how young you died and the fact you are half human."

"What do you mean?" Danny turned his whole body to face him now, tucking his knees under his chin and circling his arms around them. His cloak moved with him in inky black wisps and settled around him again like clouds of galaxies. 

Clockworks form shifted to that of a child.

"You feel young because you died young. However, it is the nature of humans to grow and change. While you may have died at 14, your childhood died before that. You yearn to grow and learn, while also being an incredibly powerful Ancient."

He supposed that made sense. He recalled all the years cleaning the lab before the portal had even been built, and the fighting and neglect (Jazz's words, not his) that spawned his disdain of Christmas even longer before. He wanted to go back to school. He wanted a reason to love Christmas. He wanted pets and family dinners that didn't come alive. He wanted to grow up properly.

"But you still want to help people," the ghost said as though Danny had been talking out loud or having his mind read. 

"I hate it when you do that," Danny complained. Clockwork just smiled smugly.

"I know." He laughed at the glare Danny threw him. 

"I have a proposition for you," the older ghost began. Danny perked up in intrigue. "I know of another earth dimension with some problems that need to be addressed. Your role as High King puts you in a position to be helpful."

"Their problem has to do with the Realms?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Ectoplasm from the Realms is pooling into what are referred to on their planet as Lazarus Pits. They are both helpful and harmful as they do not dissipate into the air so they continually collect and concentrate emotion, but they do sometimes revive the dead."

Danny grimaced in disgust at the thought of dunking a person into a stagnant pool of contaminated ectoplasm. "That sounds disgusting."

"Quite," Clockwork agreed. 

"So what's your proposition?"

"Well, if it is agreeable to you, I would like to de-age your physical form and place you with a family that's had dealings with the Pits firsthand. I've found them to be quite charming." 

"Ah, so you want me to go in undercover?" Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. It wasn't a half bad idea. He could try his hand at childhood again and still get to handle his duties as King Phantom. Leading a double life again would be easy enough, it was just stepping from one role into another. 

"Not at all." Clockwork smiled knowingly. Danny was officially suspicious of his ghost guardian. "This planet has had all kinds of dealings with the occult, and even humans with superpowers isn't that unusual. While I would advise against telling anyone you are a king right away, you are in fact just that: a king. You may do what you wish." 

For an ancient and wise time ghost, Danny thought Clockwork was really shit at hiding his expressions. Though he tried to keep the grin off his face, Danny could clearly see the twitching of his lips and gleam in his eyes that promised the old man was scheming. 

But to get his childhood back. Or, at least a semblance of one... it deserved consideration. Danny looked back out at the cityscape again. Sam and Tucker... they were down there graduating from high school without him. He'd been the one to encourage them to pull away from Team Phantom activities to zero in on their studies, but he didn't regret it. Sam wanted to major in environmental science and Tucker wanted to go to MIT and he just didn't fit into those plans. After Jazz left for Stanford, his parents often forgot he was still there. He'd managed to convince them to study ghosts properly instead of hunting them, and with a little help from the "friendly ghost King Phantom" they were given a place to start. They dove into their research with the same excitement and fervor they'd had all their lives. Which of course meant he went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing them emerge from the lab. It was easy enough to slip past them to the portal while they were distracted. 

The point was that he'd started to feel his anchor to this city, to this realm, start to dissipate as the people who kept him there started to break away from him. He still loved them, wanted to protect them, but they were safe and happy now. He felt fulfilled in his task of protecting them, but there was a buzzing beneath his skin to do more. 

Danny took a deep and controlled breath. He didn't need it in his ghost form, but it felt good to feel his lungs stretch to fullness. 

"When would I start?" He asked finally. The straight face Clockwork had been trying to keep, and he really was so bad at it, finally broke into a wide grin. 

"Right now. Everything is already in place and your duties in the Realms will be taken care of in your absence." 

Danny smiled softly at his guardian. Clockwork sure had a funny way of showing it, but he cared so deeply for the boy next to him that when Danny responded with a bad pun, he couldn't even be annoyed. 

"Well, no time like the present!" He winked.

Clockwork chuckled, and with a flash of light, he sent Danny on his way. 

The more time the older ghost spent with his young ward, the more he appreciated him. The Danny he’d come to know was nothing like the Danny’s from other worlds he’d encountered while trying to prevent Dan from existing. His Danny was now truly one of a kind. None of the others, not even the ones that eventually turned into Dan, had been Ancients. There would never be another Danny like him, and every universe was adjusting to include him should he ever decide to visit them. He had a place in any world, should he choose, but Clockwork knew he was needed most in the one he’d sent him to. It would be truly entertaining to watch the young Ancient settle into his role there, and Clockwork was actually finding himself looking forward to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark and quiet a long while before Danny opened his eyes. And when he did open them it got really loud and really bright really fast. It belatedly occurred to him that he should have asked like a billion more questions before agreeing to be iseaki’d into a different dimension to join a family he knew literally nothing about. 

There was shouting before someone in what looked like a ninja cult uniform shoved a knife into his hand and pushed him in the path of a person in a different uniform. The man in front of him was dressed in blue and black and wearing a mask that covered his eyes, but Danny could see the surprised shape of his mouth before it morphed into something like anger. And then he was being lunged at.

He shrieked as he dodged out of the way. Not his most graceful save, but whatever. His voice was a bit shrill and his center of gravity felt way off. He must have actually been de-aged! He wondered how old he was now. He still felt light on his feet thanks to his ghost half which felt blessedly intact. But the other guy was fast and he ducked into a roll just in time to dodge whatever weapon he was holding. This guy meant business, but he had no idea why he was trying to kill him. 

‘Great, thanks Grandfather Clock for throwing me right back into the good ol’ days,’ he thought sarcastically. Nobody had attacked him for no good reason like that since Walker and Fright caught Skulker mid hunt for the very last time. 

What he now saw was a baton swung down from overhead and Danny knew he wouldn't dodge it in time, so he caught it with the flat of the blade that had been shoved into his hands.

“Wait! Why are we fighting?” Danny yelled, panicked as the guy pushed more force into it. The man's face twisted into something like confusion for a moment and he backed off just the tiniest bit before the scuffing of shoes to his right had him looking over just in time to see another guy in a mask, this time in red, rushing at him. He threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait!” He shrieked before he was absolutely bodied sideways into the ground. 

Why was he doing this? He was half ghost, he could have just gone intangible and disappeared. He didn't have to be body slammed into the ground. Wasn't he a child now? Did that guy in red actually just slam a whole child into the ground? 

“Red, hold on! This one's different!” 

“What do you mean?” The guy Red asked. He was still pinning Danny to the ground.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Danny asked breathlessly, then whimpered, “Someone please tell me what's going on!” 

The one hovering over him must have seen something on his face that convinced him to not try and kill him anymore, because he grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him along. 

“We'll take him in for questioning. Don't let Robin see him.”

“Who's Robin?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long, arduous, and confusing journey from wherever they were to… well, wherever they were now. They'd blindfolded him for the transport so he still had no idea what was going on. He had learned that the guy with batons was Nightwing, and Red was actually Red Robin. The one they called Robin was a feral looking thing with swords, he was very small and stabby. Then there was Batman, and he totally threw off the whole bird theme but was easily the most intimidating. And that was all he knew so far. He'd been restrained at an interrogation table. 

Danny groaned and knocked his forehead onto the table. He really, really wished he'd asked Clockwork more questions. He'd at least been able to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass behind Batman. He looked like he was eleven or twelve again, which was not as young as he'd been expecting, but much more preferable than being a literal toddler. The group of people he’d been brought in by seemed to be heroes. They were all incredibly weary of him, but hadn’t gone out of their way to harm him since his capture. Though it was hard to call it a capture when there wasn’t a chase involved. 

“How old are you?” Batman asked suddenly. His voice was low and rough and somehow Danny could tell it didn't sound like that naturally. 

“Um, maybe eleven or twelve?” Danny replied carefully, picking up his head from the table and having the decency to look a little embarrassed. 

“And what's your name?” He looked like he was expecting something.

“My name is Danny, sir.” 

“Hmm…” 

It was quiet and awkward for a long moment.

“Why are you different from the other clones?” 

“Yeeeaaah, I'm not a clone.” Danny absolutely did not jump when the brute slammed the file folder shut in front of him. 

“We'll see what your DNA results have to say about that,” he said confidently before turning to leave, his cape dramatically flaring out behind him.

Sheesh, and he thought he’d had a flair for the dramatics.

‘Okay, time for some assessment,’ Danny thought to himself as he looked around the small closed room. It was soundproofed incredibly well. While he didn’t have super crazy hearing, it was enhanced by his ghost half, and combined with his other sharp senses, it tended to help him gather more information than others could. The most he could hear outside the room was a quiet hum of activity and nothing discernible. Still, he needed to decide how much he would say to these people. How much truth did he want to weave into his tale? These people clearly already had their own assumptions about him in mind, and while there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a clone, he knew he didn’t have what it took to keep up an act like that for long, which would just end up being awkward for everyone. 

He also would not be telling them about his status as Ghost King, per Clockwork’s suggestion. His captors seemed like the uptight sort, and revealing that he was a big, scary ghost monarch didn’t seem like it’d go over well. Telling them he was a halfa would probably get them off his back over the clone thing, at least. He went over the list in his head.

He was a halfa from another dimension, so he couldn’t be a clone.

He had no plans of fighting with anyone unless absolutely necessary. 

He did not have a way back to his other dimension. 

His name was Danny, and he didn’t have a family anymore.

He did not know why he was in the middle of whatever fight he woke up in. 

No, he didn’t know those people.

Danny must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while because his thoughts were interrupted by Batman bursting back through the door. The man’s demeanor had changed completely and he whipped off his cowl to reveal disheveled dark hair, blue eyes, and an expression of absolute heartbreak that accompanied his shuddering breaths. With the mask off, he reminded Danny a lot of his father. 

Batman searched his face and, much like Red Robin had before, seemed to notice something there. 

“She did it twice,” he muttered to himself. “Two of them this whole time and she didn’t tell me about either of them,” he said through gritted teeth. His frown deepened. Danny copied his frown. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

He still had no idea what was going on.

[welcometomyoasis]

Ranking seventeen: who would get married the fastest

Synopsis: Ranking the seventeen members in terms of who would get married the fastest after starting a romantic relationship. Svt x gn! reader | headcanon, fluff | 0.9k words | warnings: marriage A/n: I talk about husband material because this was originally based on this ask by ⭐️ anon. Also in my opinion husband material =/= ready for real marriage. someone who is more bf material might still be more ready for a real marriage.  Disclaimer: this is my opinion and obviously not reflective of how the members are irl.

Married the fastest

ཻུ۪۪♡. Seungcheol - man is hubby material AND ready to settle down. He’s dating for love and life. As soon as he knows you’re the one, he’s going to put a ring in your finger. An elopement or whirlwind wedding is always a possibility. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Mingyu - he gives off major playboy energy but i do believe mingyu is 100% husband material. He will be a very devoted boyfriend and husband. Like cheol, as soon as he realises that you are the one for him, he’s going to propose. The other reason he’s ranked so high is because Mingyu would be pretty impatient. He might even buy a ring on impulse. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Joshua - another one who is husband material and ready for marriage. He’s definitely not the type to date around. If he’s with you, you can bet that he’s WITH you. He’s the most attentive, sweetest person ever. He might take a tiny bit longer to propose because he wants it to be the right time and all, but the time between engagement and marriage would be short. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Junhui - i had trouble with where to place jun. On one hand, he radiates husband material (eg. he cooked for the rest of the members during their trainee days). On the other hand, i see him being like Wonwoo in terms of taking longer to open up to others. Still, I place him as 4th on the list because like the 3 above, once he is sure about you, he’ll be planning his proposal. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Seungkwan - i see him straddling the threshold between boyfriend material and husband material if that makes sense. He can fit both roles readily and easily depending on what the situation (or rather you, his s/o) calls for. He’ll be ready for marriage as soon as you are. But if you aren’t, he’s more than happy to wait until you are. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Jeonghan - Despite his playful nature in everyday life, he takes love very seriously. You’ve heard his song dream and the song’s lyrics. It’s all the little things in a relationship that count. He would be higher except for the fact that I see him being more picky (idk how else to put it). If he’s dating someone who he believes is not the right fit, someone he cannot picture any type of future with, he’s dropping them like an old sock. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Vernon - he’s in no rush. He savours all aspects of the relationship. The flirting stage, courting stage, dating stage, even the engaged to be married stage. The progression of his relationship will be very natural. This means he starts off as a boyfriend and learns how to be a good husband to you. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Minghao - love is a serious thing for him. It’s about the all the emotional, physical, spiritual, mental connections between him and his s/o. He’s definitely A+ husband material. Honestly if he’s sure about you, being married or just dating isn’t a problem. But I see him being more cautious during the dating stage before tying the knot. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Dokyeom - His happy go lucky personality puts him more on the side of boyfriend material. However, i do believe that dokyeom will fall fast and hard. If the relationship feels right, his heart tells him that marriage is the next step. But his head is the main obstacle because he ends up worrying too much about everything. It takes a while for him to get over that mental block before he proposes. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Wonwoo - as it is, Wonwoo takes longer to open up to people and to feel comfortable with them. Especially when it comes to dating, with someone who you are supposed to be able to feel vulnerable with, he takes even longer. He’s low on this list because he’s careful and the courtship/ getting to know each other phase lasts pretty long. Once he’s sure that you are his perfect match though, he would be open to the idea of marriage though it isn’t his top priority. Sustaining the relationship is more important to him. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Dino - he’s just young? I’m the same age as Dino so maybe this is my perspective. He’s not ready for that level of commitment yet. He wants to devote his time equally between his career, family, friends and his s/o at the moment. As he matures even more, his mindset would probably change. So like Vernon, he will grow into taking on the role of a husband and being more husband material. 

​​ཻུ۪۪♡. Soonyoung - more boyfriend material. He dates for companionship rather than working towards the goal of eventual marriage. Also i see him wanting to live his 20s and maybe even his 30s to the fullest, and to experience all sorts of things. Marriage is not on the table. 

ཻུ۪۪♡. Woozi - he just isn’t that ready to settle down at all. He prefers the level of flexibility that dating brings. In a way, there are no strings attached. He can focus on his career first. He is a great, attentive boyfriend but I do see him dating his s/o for years before actually getting married. 

Takes the longest time to get married

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis

@heavenfilm @bananabubble

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Eleven

— Little Big Schooldays

Series Masterlist

wc: 2k

The last few days felt like a dream, one that you never wanted to wake up from.

Every morning after your date night, Max would come over with a coffee for you and a doughnut for your daughter. Then, he'd greet you with a kiss before entering your home. "Hm, I could get used to that," you told him, already having a great start to the day.

However, your morning didn't start like that today. Instead of you, Max was greeted by Isabella. "Good morning, princess," he ruffled her hair until she slapped his hands away—a moment they always shared whenever they met.

"This is for you," he passed her the doughnut. Isabella excitedly took it out of the wrapper, thanking him as soon as she took a bite.

"Maxy," she began and he turned to face her, "yes?" She chuckled before she even got the words out, "why do you come over everyday?"

Max frowned, "do you not like it?" He asked, but Isabella shook her head quickly, "I mean, why don't me, you and mama have a sleepover instead?"

"You want me to stay over?" he asked, smiling. He wanted clarification, even though he knew what she meant. Unbeknownst to her, his heart was bursting with happiness. Although the dynamics between him and Isabella remained the same after you began dating Max—mostly because she didn't know of it yet—he was extremely concerned about Isabella's reaction to him. So knowing she liked him now gave him hope that she would still want him around after you reveal the relationship.

Isabella nodded, "yes! We will have so much fun." He nodded along with her, "we can ask your mom later."

Max noticed your absence in the room, "speaking of, where's your mama?" He asked your daughter.

"She's working in her office," Isabella spoke, sitting on the couch to savour her doughnut.

Knowing his way around your house now, Max found you working away in your office with your head buried in paperwork.

He knocked on the doorframe to grab your attention since the door itself was open and he was met with a tired smile from you. "Is it morning already?" You questioned as he rounded the desk, and you were too tired to stand up so he crouched down and wrapped his arms around you.

You reached up as much as you could to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "Have you been working all night?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled as his head rested in the crook of your neck.

Parting away, you shrugged, eyeing the two empty cans of energy drinks on the floor. Technically, it was Max's fault that you had to keep a stock of it at home. Grazing your cheek with his thumb, he sighed, "you need to go to sleep right now."

You pulled away entirely, turning your chair to face your laptop and began typing away again. "I can't, I have so much to do," you shook your head as you spoke.

Max muttered your name, "c'mon, let's go to bed," he suggested and when you stopped typing, he assumed that you'd agree.

Noticing the time, you gasped, "I have to get Bella ready for school!" A yawn left your mouth as you spoke, and Max immediately knew right then that he had to get you to your room as soon as possible.

He grasped on to the back of your chair, dragging it away from the desk so you could no longer touch any keys on the laptop nor any papers. "Max!" You exclaimed, trying to reach something to stop moving but he made a sound of protest. "No ma'am, you are going to bed right now."

You didn't stop trying to convince him otherwise by listing out all the tasks you had to do for the day but he didn't budge. "You need energy to do those tasks and that is exactly why you need to rest," he finalized, stopping the chair once it was right next to your bed.

"What about Isabella?" You asked, and Max didn't even hesitate for a moment before replying, "I'll drop her to school."

He looked at you with a pointed gaze, gesturing for you to move from the chair to the bed, and you huffed before complying. "What about her breakfast and lunch? Oh and her hair too," you stressed, wanting to get up and continue your usual morning routine.

Max, however, pulled the blanket up to your shoulders and pressed his lips against yours to quiet down all the thoughts running through your mind. "Like I said, I'll do it," he stated after parting away.

"Will you come back after?" Looking at your face, Max desperately wanted to stay, but he was also looking forward to his new responsibilities. "Of course."

You called out his name as he turned to leave, but a yawn interrupted your words. With a tired smile on your face, you muttered, "thank you."

Walking back downstairs, Max called out to Isabella. "You're going to have to help me out here, I'm taking you to school today." She perked up once she heard his words, although with confusion taking over her expressions. "Why, what happened to mama?"

Max headed towards the kitchen with Isabella right on his tail. "Your mama is very tired so we’re going to let her sleep," he told her. He watched as Isabella thought for a moment before shrugging, "okay."

"Great, I'll make breakfast, you go change," he suggested and earned a nod from the little girl. "Are you going to do my hair?" She asked before walking backwards towards the stairs. "I'll try," he spoke truthfully and shrugged, making Isabella laugh.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Max called out since she had already begun climbing the stairs. "Pancakes!" He heard her yell back in response.

Then it was quiet. Max sighed, looking around the kitchen, "pancakes, okay, you can do this."

Fortunately, he knew a recipe from one of his friends, and began preparing the ingredients. In the process, his phone buzzed with a text, from you. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

He sighed, almost chuckling at your persistence. "This is the one and only time I don't want you to text me. Go to sleep"

He was relieved that he had not received any messages after that, and he resumed mixing the pancake batter. The first few pancakes were crispier than usual, and were nowhere near the proper shape. He placed it away on his plate and tried again to cook up appealing ones for Isabella.

Isabella tiptoed downstairs to avoid waking you up. "Look, Maxy," she twirled to show off the outfit she was wearing. "Very nice, princess," Max commented.

Fortunately, you had already chosen her outfit the night before, which made it easier for her to get dressed this morning. "Can you make two braids for me?"

Max paused his actions and looked at her with a wide eyed expression, "two braids?"

Isabella sat up on the bar stool, placing down the items she held in her hand on the countertop. It included various clips, bows, hair ties, and a comb. She brought everything down that you usually used in her hair to make it easier for Max.

She had no idea, however, that the poor guy was trying to figure out how to make not one, but two braids. He was mostly used to his nephews, and even then when they cried, he'd hand them over to his sister. Despite having a younger sister, he has never learnt anything about hairstyles or other such things surprisingly.

That made him realize he wanted to learn, albeit not right away, but he did want to learn all the basic skills for situations such as this.

"I can make a normal ponytail?" He suggested instead, and Isabella thought for a moment before responding with another question, "will you still add the clips?"

"Of course!" He could do that, it shouldn't be too hard. She nodded in agreement, and Max placed the plate stacked with pancakes doused in maple syrup in front of her.

As Isabella ate, Max packed her lunch. Truthfully, he was scrambling around, glancing at the clock every few seconds to ensure that he wasn't running late.

"Maxy?" Isabella started, a small pout forming on her lips. "Do I have to go to school today?"

"Do you have a good reason to not go?" Max countered, debating whether he should agree with her or not. "I'm tired," she stated or more so questioned and Max had to stop himself to chuckling.

"I think you're lying, Bella," Max decided and Isabella sighed loudly, "but why do I have to go today?"

"Your mama will think that I can't follow instructions to send you to school," he spoke truthfully. That caused Isabella to chuckle, "are you going to get in trouble?"

"If you don't go, yes," he nodded. "Okay, then I'll go."

It took Max three tries to make a ponytail before Isabella was satisfied with the result. The first time it was too bumpy, and the second time it was pulled too tight.

He scattered a few clips in her hair, and once she looked in the mirror and held a thumbs up in response, Max felt like he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He buckled Isabella into the car seat after making sure she had everything she needed. In order to avoid problems in the future, he had recently purchased a carseat fit for a six year old to put in his car.

"Are you gonna drive fast?" Isabella asked, and Max glanced at her through the mirror with a grin. He didn't reply; instead, he quickly accelerated and saw the cheerful delight light up her face. Granted that he had prioritized their safety, it is evident that he wasn't speeding up excessively but it was still fast enough for Isabella.

Isabella guided Max toward the main entrance while she held his hand, primarily to ensure he wouldn't be left behind. A teacher stood by the door, holding it for all the students entering. Once she spotted Isabella and Max, she smiled brightly.

"Good morning, Miss," Isabella greeted, but her teacher's gaze was only on Max. "Good morning, I have never seen you here before," the teacher told him, introducing herself.

Isabella stood there with crossed arms, watching how Max shuffled closer to the little girl as he spoke to the teacher. "Maxy," she interrupted, immediately gaining his attention.

She extended her arms for a hug, and an attempt to bring an end to the conversation. He crouched and placed his arms around her. "I don't like her," Isabella said, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"I'll see you soon, Bella," Max stated, and watched the teacher lead her inside the school. "Let's go Bella," he could hear the teacher's words but Isabella's response surprised him even further. "My name is Isabella, only the people I like can call me Bella."

Returning home, Max dashed upstairs to your bedroom as fast and quietly as possible, sighing in relief when he noticed you were still asleep. He paused for a moment, unsure whether to climb in or not. But then he recalled your conversation earlier in which you said that you wanted him to return, so he drew the blankets back on his side of the bed and settled down.

A few minutes later, you turned around to face him, eyes still closed but you rested your arm over his chest. "Thank you," you sleepily mumbled. He brushed his fingers through your hair, "you're welcome."

Max usually didn't take naps during the day, but with the cozy atmosphere in your room, he couldn't help but fall asleep with you in his arms.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[yo-yo-yungi]

SHUT UP - JEONG YUNHO - NSFW

Yunho x AFAB!reader

Genre: smut

Warning list: Dom!Yunho, Sub!reader, degrading (slut), pet names (baby), mention of punishment, childhood house, having to stay quiet, established relationship,

Word count:

Summary: you simply couldn’t hold yourself back around your perfect boyfriend, especially when he looked so good in the morning, even if your parents were downstairs… you could be quiet… Right?

“Keep your filthy mouth closed baby” he groaned into your ear, words accompanied by hot breaths hitting your skin. Despite you getting louder and louder, threatening to blow your cover, he continued to slam his hips against yours. If your family heard then you’d be the one at fault, not him. After all, you were the one that begged him to fuck you even though you were staying in your childhood room and your family were home.

Admittedly the second you started begging there was no way Yunho was going to turn you down, he gets mean sure, but he also gets turned on, and your pathetic begging had him terribly desperate.

“Please Yun, I need your fat fucking cock in my pussy…” you begged him, kneeling in front of him, pulling on his belt. Who had taught you to beg so effectively??? Him… Was it biting him in the ass now? Yes.

“Can’t be quiet Yun, you feel s’ good” you whined, whimpers falling from your mouth. Yunho wanted to slap, maybe punish you for being dumb, for not following orders, but that would only make more noise. Instead he removed his hand from your clit and shoved his fingers into your mouth “suck on those and shut the fuck up. God you are such a whore~ begging for me~ moaning so loudly for me~ and all when your parents are downstairs~ are you a slut baby” he groaned, voice coarse from running low on energy. He was holding back his own moans so well, why couldn’t you just do the same.

Around his fingers you nodded desperately, wide glossy eyes looking up at him so sweetly. God you were so cute, he hated how you had such a grasp on him. He really did love you. He just hopped he hadn’t ruined his chances of your family liking him by fucking you in their house-

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closed, cock slamming into your cervix, making you bite into his fingers so you wouldn’t scream. Your pretty cunt tightened around him so filthily and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. “My slut, so fucking perfect~” he whined, gazing into your eyes.

You wanted to call to him, tell him you were going to cum, but his fingers stopped you, they only pushed further into your throat. “I know Baby, I know~ you wanna cum on my cock, make a sloppy fucking mess~ go ahead baby” he gave you all the permission you’d ever need, then sped up, chasing your highs together. He needed to cum just as badly as you now.

He felt your cunt tighten around him and he throbbed in response. Sweat dripped from his hair line and his fingers slipped deeper into your mouth, pressing down. His hips stuttered as you came around him, your slick coating his cock looked so delicious and he really wish he’d eaten you out. With one final thrust he slams his hips into yours and paints your begging walls white.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and leans down to kiss you, trying to hide his own moans. “Thank you Yun” you mutter as he pulls away to grab a towel to clean you up. He chuckles at you and grabs your chin, pulling you towards him “you better be ready for when we get home baby, cause I’m gonna fucking break you” he smiled, eyes twinkling, and that’s how you knew you were truly fucked.

[dovedewdrop]

Scratch My Back

Masterlist

Joel Miller x reader

word count: 889

Summary: The tide is pulling you under, just like it has plenty of times before. Your husband helps you communicate.

A/N: I’ve been struggling with my mental health & looking after myself for a long, long time and I was getting myself all psyched up to get a shower but I didn’t end up getting in and decided to write this lil thing that I’ve been thinking about for a while! I hope you enjoy it and if anyone out there is reading this and is struggling too, just know that you are not alone and that if Joel Miller were real, he would scratch your back❤️

Also thank you so much for 100 followers🥹🫶🏻 really brightened up my spirits a lil bit💓

Warnings: No Outbreak. Depiction of poor mental health. Sadness. One big loving man (it’s Joel Miller) (Not a warning but I didn’t want it to seem all doom and gloom😅) No use of Y/N.

To Joel, it was just a Wednesday, your day off. To you, the ceiling was caving in. Before he left for work you were sound asleep, your thoughts at bay, laying still against the sand, he placed a gentle kiss to your temple before rolling out of bed. Now that you were awake your thoughts were thrashing against the cliffs, the mental whiplash you were facing ultimately draining your body of all its energy.

You watch the clock on the bedside table blink from one minute to the next. You thought about all if the things you should probably be doing; showering, tidying the house, preparing that home cooked meal you’d been promising your husband for over a week but all you could do was slip in and out of sleep, that was the safe option, the one that would keep you somewhat sane until he returned. You didn’t want to bother him, didn’t want to text him those three words because you knew he would stop everything for you, everything would be put on hold so that he could soothe you and you didn’t want to add that onto the ever-growing list of things to feel bad about. So you waited.

“Honey?” His voice reverberated off the walls, the sound of his gentle tone floated up the stairs. You didn’t have the energy to shout back, the sound of his boots hitting the wooden steps told you that it wouldn’t be long until he was by your side anyway. He took in the sight of the drawn curtains, the sight of you facing them, still in your t-shirt and underwear and you felt the bed dip behind you, the warmth of his body encompassing yours, his scent filling your scenes. 

“Something happen?” A gentle kiss placed to your shoulder blade, the feeling of his lungs emptying and filling behind your back soothing you. You shook your head, allowing a silence to draw over you both as Joel’s arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you further back into the curve of his body. He was always so patient with you, so tender.

“Scratch my back.”

Scratch my back, a cry for help. A promise made between two lovers. A rule established when you’d first started dating. Joel knew that you struggled with your mental health, you’d opened up to some extent, brushing him off with a ‘I’m having a tough day but I’ll be ok x’ text in the beginning, even then he gave you your space. 

One week in spring however, everything was not okay. He hadn’t heard from you in four days, no text and definitely no phone calls. At first he thought that this was your way of letting him know you were no longer interested and selfishly, he couldn’t let it end that way. So after days of mulling it over and chewing his bottom lip raw, he drove over to your apartment and that’s where he found you, dark circles engulfing your eyes, threatening to swallowing them whole, hair unwashed, apartment flooded in gloom.

He took a bath with you, washed your hair as best he could. The spring air still had a slight chill to it so he’d made sure your new set of pyjamas were on the radiator ready for bed and he laid with you in silence until you turned into his chest and he felt the wet of your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. 

“You don’t have to talk to me.” He pressed a kiss into your hairline. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to talk to me, I mean obviously you can, when you feel comfortable and ready to but there is something I want you to do for me baby,” another soft kiss. Your eyes travelled up his face to finally look him in his eyes, those soft brown eyes that made you fall in love with him in the first place. All you could do was give a small nod, you would do anything he asked. “I want you to come up with a word or a phrase,” he continued, “so that when things get bad and you don’t feel like you can talk about it…” he trailed off, his hands drawing shapes up and down the length of your spine.

“Like a safe word?” He let out a huff of air at that, a small smile adorning his face.

“Yeah, kinda like a safe word, so I know that you’re safe,” his palm came to rest on your cheek, thumb cupping your jaw, “up here,” and his fingers tapped gently on the side of your temple.

“Scratch my back,” It was soft, the way it came out, tears threatening to spill over, “because if you promise to scratch mine, i’ll always scratch yours.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling then, the last thing you wanted was for Joel to see you like this and to become his burden, but the way he’d shown you such care and compassion made your head feel a little less foggy, you wanted to promise that you could do that in return, that it wouldn’t just be him constantly looking after you.

“Oh sweet angel.” Both of his hands were cupping your cheeks now, pressing a light kiss to your nose and then your lips.

[f6bron]

sequoia.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : mutual pining ? i’ll let the audience decide , might be ooc since i wrote this based on all of his available voicelines so far ( . — . )

The echoing clang of bullets hitting metal targets reverberated through the shooting range as you took aim alongside Iso, the new recruit to the Valorant Protocol. You’d been itching to get to know him better, and what better way to break the ice then some target practice?

“Clean shot! I should let Chamber know he has a rival now.”

Iso shrugged and chuckled, as an acknowledgement to your compliment.

“So, Iso… I heard you isolate your enemy into that domain of yours? Interesting…” you remarked, keeping your eyes trained on the target as you shot a bullet straight to the head.

Iso nodded shyly, his fingers still gripping the handle of his pistol. 

“Y-yeah… Just my way to secure a 1v1 duel…”

Oh, what the hell am I saying, Iso thought, mentally facepalming at his awkward response. He felt silly for acting awkward in front of you. To be honest, he finds you really, really beautiful. Maybe that’s the reason.

But to his surprise, you merely gave him a soft smile. 

“That is sooo freaking cool ~! Can you bring me there someday?” you asked, your tone playful and light.

Iso was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“Why would I bring you there? I don’t think having a gun duel with an ally there is a good idea–”

You giggled, which interrupted his words. “Not in a gun duel, silly. I just wanna know what it looks like in the dimension.”

Warmth crept onto Iso’s face, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment at having misunderstood your context. “O-oh… Yeah, sure. I hang out a lot there even though there’s nothing much… Mostly when I need alone time to read my books or… listen to music.”

“And, having company once in a while would be nice.” He smiled, his eyes glanced at you.

“Mhmm, then I’ll be waiting ~” you replied, your curiosity piqued. You adjusted your stance, firing a few more rounds with precise accuracy.

“Oh ! Talking about music,” you continued, gesturing to the earbuds that Iso always had whenever you saw him. “I always see you got your earbuds on all the time. I assume you’re a music enthusiast, yes?”

Iso nodded, his fingers fumbling with the gun’s magazine as he exchanged it. “It helps me to stay relaxed and focused. Music has this way of grounding me, you know?”

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. “That makes sense. What kind of music do you listen to then?”

As Iso put his pistol down, he began to list off his favourite genres and artists. You noticed the way his purple-coloured eyes lightened up. You were surprised by the variety of his tastes, from classical compositions to high-energy EDM tracks. Your conversation flowed seamlessly, as Iso continued geeking over his profound hyperfixation.

“So, do you have a favourite song?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Iso took a moment to think before answering. He has so many favourites, heck, he could create millions of playlist when he thought of it. Then, a song came to his mind, “There’s this one song that I find myself going back to quite often. It’s called ‘Helena’ by My Chemical Romance.

The name caught your attention, “Wait ! I know that song ! What’s the worst that I can say ~”

Iso chuckled, he continued singing along, “Things are better if I stay ~”

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Both of you started giggling, which lightened up the mood surrounding the both of you.

Iso started to fiddle with his gloved fingers, his expression softening. “To me, that song carries a powerful and cathartic expression of one’s emotions surrounding the loss of a loved one, so it has become one of my favourites.”

You were touched by his description and decided to make a mental note to listen to the song again later. As you both finished up with the training at the shooting range, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming between you and Iso. He’s slowly getting along with you, no longer the quiet and reserved recruit. 

Someone you could genuinely relate to.

As the both of you left the shooting range, the two of you talked and laughed, not just about combat training but about music, books and everything in between. His giggles caught your attention, the way he would bring up his hand to stifle his laughs. 

Goddamn, he’s cute.

You didn’t expect the training you had with him could be the perfect time to bring you both closer. You couldn’t wait to explore Iso’s unique dimension with him, discovering not just his hidden talents but the beauty of the world he had specifically created for himself.

“So, about that dimension visit,” you teased, “When can we make that happen?”

Iso grinned, the embarrassment from earlier dissipating. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d be happy to show you around the place.”

“Can we make that a promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

(A/N): my love for iso is growing… he’s so cutie patootie… do u get me…

masterlist.

[skiiyoomin]

hello! i’m not sure if you’re taking reqs so if not feel free to skip this! i was wondering if we can get a oneshot of bakugo x reader except reader is a famous jpop idol (or even a global pop star) and bakugo is a pro hero. how the rest plays out can totally be up to you but i thought this would be a unique pairing. :)

Hi hi! Yes my reqs are open so feel free to ask as much as you´d like! I looove the idea, its literally one of my fave tropes. It´s a little short but I thought it was a cute way to start a possible relationship between bakugo and reader :>

⤑Back to navigation

Content: pro hero! Bakugou x idol! reader, inspo from the met gala, gn! reader, swearing cause its bakugou

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Bakugou hated attending these events. The constant flashing of camera lights, the stuffiness of his suit, the obnoxious voices of paparazzi begging him to look their way. It was exhausting.

But alas, as one of the top heroes, he had to show his face more often than he´d like to and make small talk with people he could care less about. At least he´d get a few free drinks and food for the night.

As he finished walking down the red carpet and away from the dizzying lights, a figure smaller than his own bumped into him. And Bakugou in his very characteristic fashion, was ready to threat whoever wasn´t watching their step. "Oi, watch where you´re-"

The words died in his throat when his ruby eyes landed on your own. You had to be the most beautiful person he had ever seen. The luxurious fabric of your extravagant clothes complimented your features and sitted on the curves of your body just right. He realizes he was staring more than he should when your silky voice reached his ears.

"I´m so sorry!! It´s just it´s a bit hard to walk in these clothes" You admit with an embarrsed chuckle. He tsks, though there was no real annoyance directed towards you. "Can´t believe they´re making you wear something you can´t even walk in"

You chuckle feeling flattered by the concerns from someone who was so notorious for being abrasive...and devilishly handsome. "Yeah, well, you know, practicality isn´t really on top of their priority list."

To the surprise of the both of you, he holds his arm out. "What table are you assigned in?" God it took everything in him not to sweep you off your feet with the way your doe eyes were marveling up at him. You link your arm around his own. "Table three"

He hums in acknowledgement, though deep down he felt his heart hammering in his chest like a teenage boy. "Good, at least there will be a pretty face sitting with me"

It was embarrassing how quickly heat rose to your cheeks from such a common and simple compliment you heard quite often. Though it felt so different hearing it slip from his tongue. It felt genuine.

The picture you had portrayed of the pro hero Dynamight completely shattered the longer you spent the night engaged in conversation with him. He too, felt any prejudices he may have held against you for being an idol slip away. Conversation rolled easily between you two as if you had been friends for years, and for the first time in a very long time, you both truly enjoyed being there.

Of course, it didn´t make it any less exhausting. The proof being written all over your energy drained face by the time the clock struck 12 PM. Lucky you, Bakugou had a knack for being observant, so it didn´t take long before he realized how fatigued you felt, and truthfully, he wasn´t doing much better than you. He was just better at hiding it.

"Let me drive you home" It wasn´t a question, and it´s not like you had the energy to retaliate. You let him place a warm calloused hand on your waist while he led you to his car. The drive back to your home felt like it went by in a flash, though it must be because you were fast asleep.

His heart clenched when he gazed at your soft features while you were deep in slumber. But alas, the last thing he wanted was to overstep boundaries, so, albeit begrudgingly, he reached out and shook your shoulder.

"Hey, wake up, we´re here"

Your dark lashes fluttered against your cheeks before your eyelids slowly opened. It took you a long moment to gather your surroundings, but once you realized, your lips formed into a small `o´.

Bakugou thought it was a crime to look so adorable, but it´s not like he would ever tell you that. "C´mon, i´ll help you upstairs"

Once again, his hands felt just right against your body when he aided you in walking properly to your home. Everything felt like a fever dream. The way he respectfully removed any excessive fabric of clothing or the way he helped you into your bed in a surprisingly soft manner for someone so rough.

But you realized how real it was when you spotted a little note sticked to your fridge the next morning with beautifully neat handwriting saying:

"Text me xxx-xx-xx-xx"

And if anyone had seen the wide grin that spread across your face, they would have called you a simp. Maybe you were.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!

Sorry for the profanity, but i BAWLED at the Bucket list fic😭

I read it when I had some time at work, and i cannot tell you how my heart BROKE!!!! I had to hide my face and wipe my tears because GOD HELP ME i almost choked on them.

Absolutely loved the fic, but can’t help but wish you’d broken our hearts more by letting is witness her last moment with Cha by her side!! Masochistic much??

Adore you and your work so much🥰

- May✨

Great, now I’m crying again. Fuck 😭😭😭

The Bucket List

Charles remembered every second of your last day. For a moment it seemed like you were doing better, you had energy and you got out of bed. You walked to his piano and asked him to play your song, smiling like it was the first time hearing it all over again. He played it until his fingers cramped.

“Can we put the Christmas tree up?” you asked as you looked at the empty corner by the fireplace. It had been forgotten in the week since you returned home, usually it would have been up and decorated on the 1st of December.

Charles didn’t feel like he had much to celebrate this year but he nodded and closed the lid on the piano. “I’ll get it from the loft.” He left with a kiss to your temple and a small smile.

It took longer than it normally did to hang all the baubles and drape the tinsel but you wanted it to be perfect. Charles held the final piece in his hand, a delicate porcelain doll with a gold halo above her head. It was new, one he found that looked just like you and he rose on his toes to reach the top of the tree. “Mon ange.”

You didn’t speak as you took a seat and watched the lights flicker on the tree but he felt connected to you when you placed your hand on his thigh and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’m tired, Cha,” you said with a yawn. “Will you come and lay down with me?”

“Of course, mon amour.”

Charles helped you as the day came to an end, his arm bearing most of your weight as the energy you had earlier faded with an exhaustion that came from deep inside your soul. You felt no pain as he lifted you onto the bed and went to close the curtains to defend you from the setting sun.

“Will you hold me while I go to sleep?” Your eyes were already getting heavy when the bed dipped on his side and he carefully cradled you to his chest.

“Of course, mon amour.”

You forced your eyes to open just enough to see those gold and green eyes you had fallen for. Your chest was getting heavy, each breath requiring more effort and you closed your eyes to focus on each inhale and exhale.

“I love you, Charles,” you whispered weakly as his warm lips pressed to your forehead.

“I love you too.” Charles felt his universe shatter with the shuddering breath you took before the world fell silent. “Forever and always.”

Click here for Two Years Later.

[notelcol]

How you react to their idles

Mildly edited, apologies for mistakes🫶

——-

Wanderer

You were walking down a path on the outskirts of Sumeru City. The Wanderer was at your side. You were planning to go hunting for hillichurl together, since you needed materials for a new sword. You didn’t get far before you saw the familiar blonde hair of the Traveller.

“Hey!! Lumine! Paimon!” You waved with a big grin as you ran to your friends.

“It’s so good to see you!” Paimon matched your energy while the Traveller eyed Wanderer suspiciously. You spoke for a while, catching up on what you had been doing and explaining your plans for the day.

You got the feeling the conversation was boring Wanderer when you heard a growl followed by an increase in wind. You rolled your eyes before turning to him as he aimed an air ball at the Traveller.

“Tsk.” You hit his side. “Stop scaring people would you?!” You scolded.

“Relax.” He told the Traveller whose hand has moved near her sword. He began to laugh, sticking his tongue out at you. You couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes and apologised to the Traveller.

Thoma

You were about to leave for the city with Thoma to do some odd jobs. You both were gathering your belongings for the day.

“Don’t forget those forms! Ayaka wanted us to drop them off for her.” You called to him as you searched for your other sock.

“No problem!” He called back from the kitchen.

Once you were almost at the city, Thoma started to list off things. You giggled, he always thought he’d forgotten something but he never does.

“I must be imagining it.” He says after going through everything he needed to bring.

“You got the forms?” You pondered, doubting he had forgotten them until he froze.

“Darn it!” He turned back towards your house and broke into a run. “Go ahead without me! I’ll catch up!” He called back to you, before stopping again. You furrowed your brows as he came running back to you. When he reached you he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Love you!” He called before actually leaving to get the forms. You laughed as you shouted back.

“I love you too!!” You could hear him laughing in the distance as he ran further from you.

Neuvillette

You were walking down the street when you saw Neuvillette. You rarely see him with nothing to do, so it was odd to see him standing still just thinking. You sat on a nearby bench to see observe him, since you could tell he wished for space but you cared to much to leave him. He seemed to be watching the water in a nearby fountain. Though you noticed that the longer he stood there, the greyer the skies became. Until the clouds erupted and the downpour began. You knew that this weather was his doing, that the rain meant he was sad. You walked slowly towards him, unable to watch him suffer alone any longer.

“What’re you thinking about?” You grabbed his hand as you spoke, making him jump in shock at your sudden appearance. His eyes lightened when they met yours before they widened in shock once more.

“You’re soaked through…I’m sorry.” He regained control of himself and stopped the rain as soon as he realised what he was doing.

“Never apologise for your feelings my love.” You held your free hand to his cheek. The two of you spoke all night. Thought first, you headed home to shelter yourselves from the rain that fell with his tears. When the sun rose the next day, his mind was clear and there was a beautiful rainbow shining in the skies over Fontaine.

——-

Thank you for reading 🌹

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I was re reading your pool fic bc it’s one of my favourite and I wanted to ask ab how Vil would go over giving you a make over when he finds out you’re a girl or how Vil, Rook and Epel would be involved?

Would Epel finally be happy to not be the only one being tortured by Vil with his 20084 step skin care routine?

Would Vil take you shopping and go full MUA?

Would Rook stalk you so Vil can find our about your current beauty regimen?

Also I love your writing so much

Aforementioned Makeover | Yandere Pomefiore

The thing about the pool party is that everyone knew you were a girl 

You had told them straight up

But they either written it off or the time you casually mentioned it or it just wasn’t a priority

Rook most definitely already knew 

More than willing to share one of his extensive photo albums on you when Vil finally decides you are indeed in need  of a makeover

Whether it’s through Rook or forcefully making Epel ask or just interrogating you himself

He’ll go full steam ahead once he has an idea on your situation

But it gets tricky when he realizes Rook’s has a loooonggg list of things he notices and actively updates about your health and routine

It kind of makes him jealous

So he steps up his game a little and demands your presence in Pomefiore immediately

He might wait for exam season where everyone’s on edge 

And far too anxious to debate whatever craziness he’s imposing on the Ramshackle Prefect

“This is just for the time being, no need to lose your head. Focus on your exams and I’ll focus on you. Got that?”

He’s reworking your entire life routine to fit around and with him in the center

Because Rook get’s to openly patrol and monitor you he’s not upset

He also expected it’d turn out this way but that’s a discussion for another time+

Epel though is at first willing to excuse himself

Leaving you to the proverbial wolves until he realizes what this means

“After the fitting, we’ll polish their elegance training, and then after that we’ll have to do a hearty meal otherwise they’d whine all day–” “I agree!”

“But they told me that tomorrow we’d go to the racing derby together…”

“Hm, well we’ll have to cancel that then. (Y/n)’s incredibly short energy and requirements for tomorrow can’t have them waking up too early to go to that. We only have time for what we’ve planned.”

“Yup sorry, monsieur crab-apple! Now please continue Roi du Poison!” 

“...”

If he doesn’t actively include himself or remind Vil of his obsession with training him

He’s going to be left out

Lose more time to get close to you

Less chances for him to win you over

Not to mention the bonding and learning he gets from just aiding his upperclassmen in their endeavors

“Now this Epel is the perfect time to ask questions. In this condition their mental state is still intact, so any questions you ask isn’t immediately going to be met with mindless and incoherent blubbering.”

“But why would I want to ask questions? What good is talking to this piece’a crap gonna do?”

“Tsk Tsk pauvre malheureux you have so much to learn! Consider this prey the beginning of a larger scheme…a member of a conspiracy against notre chéri!” 

“I see…”

Unbeknownst to him he’s prepared to use it all against them when the perfect time strikes

But it’s not wise to underestimate your teachers 

Where do you think that urge came from?

“We at Pomefiore value beauty above most, consider it a privilege we want to highlight yours.” 

“Though the urge to lock it away is palpable; for my Roi du Poison I’ll stiffle my urges just a tad longer!”

“Don’t expect to get too far from me I’m mo’ than set onya heart.”

“Epel!”

“I know I know, geez.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I read the post where you answered why you didn’t like Malleus and remembered that you placed Leona really highly on your favs list, and Leona is my favorite so do you mind me asking why do you like Leona?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[Anon is also referencing this Malleus post.]

THERE’S A REASON WHY L*ONA IS IN “Unfortunately Enjoy” TIER 😭 I think for like... over a year (2020-2021)? Probably closer to 1.5 years?? I really disliked him and swore up and down that I'd "never in my life simp for the fake cat". This was largely in part due to book 2, which to this day I believe did Leona a HUGE disservice and made him look very unintelligent and uninteresting. Then I was drip fed new Leona content as it steadily came out (vignettes, voice lines, event stories, his return in book 6) and my opinion of him vastly improved. Book 2 was just a really bad introduction to him and it greatly soured my first impressions. sjfyofqebfeiafns B-But now I'm too embarrassed to openly declare, "Yeah, I like a sad muscular l*on man. So what?" Some would say that's tsundere behavior... BUT I SAY I'M COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED FOR ACTING THIS WAY BECAUSE IT ISN'T EASY TO CONFESS WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST THAT YOU LIKE KINGSCHOLAR OF ALL TWST CHARACTERS

... Anyway! For a much more expanded explanation, I'd recommend this post! It already states a lot of my thoughts, and I don't want to repeat them in yet another lengthy lion-related post. What I'll do instead is summarize the key points for you, plus add some commentary about Leona and Malleus at the end.

Admittedly, he is pretty. VERY pretty. I'm saying this as someone who normally really dislikes hair longer than shoulder length, the "wild"/bad boy aesthetic, and kemonomimi. Leona breaks ALL the rules and still somehow manages to wear everything and anything well because of his sheer confidence and natural grace. His physical features are also very striking... The sharp bright green eyes, the small waist and large chest (there's NO reason why he HAD to be built like that), his stupid smirk, etc.

His pettiness and sarcasm. Leona has, hands down, some of the funniest lines 🤡 I love that he has the balls to speak callously to everyone, including fellow dorm leaders and royalty. His best moments, however, are when he whips out the sarcasm on statements which are so patently untrue--like when he says he is a 'delicate prince' and a 'lost child', both moments from book 6. It's also hilarious whenever Leona speaks in a formal way, showing that he does have the education and the knowledge of how a prince should present himself, but just actively chooses to not make the effort and only does so mockingly or when social grace calls for it.

HIS BIG BRAIN FOLDS, HOLY COW (err, book 2 aside). Leona works smarter, not harder!! He's always one step ahead of everyone else, even if he appears sleepy or disinterested at the time. He figured out the trick behind the "indestructible" golden contracts, he sussed out Jamil WAY before book 4 ever came out (saying that Jamil has "eyes that always glare" and implying that Jamil poses a threat to Kalim's life; this is from Jamil's School Uniform vignette), he takes what he learns in textbooks and so easily translates it to real-world experiences (ie advising the first years on how to more efficiently mine magestones in Vargas Camp), etc. Additionally, Leona knows when to step in and when to be hands off. It's not done out of cowardice or laziness, but rather because he's thinking strategically. For example, he could have resisted capture at the hands of the Ferrymen, but he didn't because it would be smarter to just go with them willingly. It saves everyone a lot of time and energy, and it’s this kind of intelligent thinking that makes Leona really stand out.

He knows how to lead. There are many different types of beastmen, each with own beliefs, values, and traditions that are unique to their own group. As a result, it is very difficult to unify all beastmen within the Sunset Savanna under one rule. Guess who doesn't have this problem? THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S LEONA. There's a variety of beastmen in Savanaclaw, and he effortlessly rules over them and commands their respect.

He actively thinks about how to improve the Sunset Savanna. Leona's ideas are not always the best (like, yeah, you could introduce new technology to the country but expect significant social pushback from the people, who prioritize living in harmony with nature). However, I can really appreciate that he did not entirely turn his back on the people who feared his powers and talked him down. I think he eventually realized the flaws in his way of thinking and actively chose an energy and mining lab internship in hopes of researching ways to slowly implement changes that will benefit the Sunset Savanna while also remaining respectful of the people's beliefs. He is concerned about Falena's lax way of ruling and consistently brings up ideas in various voice lines about how they can improve the Sunset Savanna and its relationships with other countries and tourists. In spite of everything he went through, Leona never wants to hurt those who hurt him with their comments and comparisons to his elder brother. He does not ever want to tear down the system that kicked him down again and again, only wants to challenge it by proving his own merits and the merits of the other downtrodden that he leads.

As much as he wants to deny it, he cares about his underclassmen and goes out of his way to help them. There are sooo many examples of this that it cannot possibly fit in one bullet point. (I would really recommend reading the elongated post linked above, as I go into more detail on this.) Suffice to say, Leona has been shown guiding, instructing, and mentoring many other characters including, but not limited to: Epel, Ruggie, Jack, and various Savanaclaw mob students. This really hits me in the heart because I love reliable big brother characters 😭 EVEN THOUGH LEONA IS TECHNICALLY A YOUNGER BROTHER...

He understands his strengths—and he understands others' strengths too. This man is fully aware of his magical might and powerful presence. He uses every last bit of it to full effect and to attain his goals, whatever those may be. One of my favorite uses has to be In Fairy Gala!! He distracted some pixies by simply demanding water and their attention so his partners in crime could escape—and what’s more, this was a plan he came up with on the spot because their mission was being jeopardized by unforeseen events. Leona is also good about pinpointing people’s best attributes and then helping them hone it. This happens a lot during club practice, bur it also occurs in book 6 between him and Jamil. Speaking of…

THAT WHOLE BOOK 6 CONVERSATION WITH JAMIL DESERVES ITS OWN BULLET POINT. This part was peak mentor mode Leona 😭 Sure, maybe he wasn’t the kindest with his wording, but I felt this was the wake up call Jamil needed to hear. What really got me though was the part where Leona tells Jamil there’s still hope for him… “unlike me”. (I believe this part was translated differently in EN to make Leona’s ego sound more inflated (ie “I’m not like you”) which saddens me immensely.) It paints the image that Leona is still struggling to believe his efforts will amount to anything and that he believes more in his juniors than in himself :(( (which informs my headcanon that Leona mentors younger students so that they can have the bright future he doesn’t think he can have for himself).

Emotional complexity. When you get down to it, what started off as a very basic story of jealousy and inferiority complex actually resulted in a deeply flawed, traumatized, and scarred individual who continues to doubt and put himself down but is slowly recovering. Leona is smart and charismatic—he is everything a leader should be, but he doesn’t truly see his own worth. (Ironically, the only people who do are the ones who look up to him and follow him.) And now… Leona’s actually got his eyes set on graduating! He has his internship plans set! I think he’s made such big strides since book 2, and it’s been so rewarding seeing him regain his willingness to try and succeed return to him.

Looking back on it, it’s so ironic how things ended up working out. Initially, I was totally on Lilia’s side when he insulted Leona and said he would never be the kind of leader Malleus is. Now I’m realizing how Leona does many of the things I don’t see Malleus doing (despite Lilia claiming Malleus is more fit to be king than Leona is).

Malleus isn’t harming his people by any means, but it’s more like he’s… stagnant? Complacent? He’s satisfied with the status quo and is comfortable resting on his laurels. And because of that, Malleus doesn’t really seem to consider what he, as a leader, can do for others, be it for his dorm members or doe his country. (Part of this is also how isolated and opposed to change Briar Valley is, of course! That kind of culture definitely shapes Malleus’s thinking.) He tends to avoid situations which involve navigating social complexities rather than dealing with them himself. Think of Ghost Marriage, when Sebek proposes in his place. Think of Fairy Gala, when Silver is the one that ultimately resolves the conflict between the diurnal fae (who have historically not been friendly with nocturnal fae) and NRC. Malleus is so sheltered that has not truly been put in situations where he has to make tough decisions or where he has been challenged. He has never had to claw and scream and beg for people to see his worth.

Leona has been through that emotional wringer, and though he’s been hurt so badly, he still came out the other side. In running from the shadow of his family—of his older brother—Leona found solace in this new kingdom, Savanaclaw. It’s a place to build himself up, to stew over the ideas he has that have yet to be realized, all with a safe mental distance from home. It’s through the many hardships he has experienced that has refined his wit and given it a place to practice, to be used.

When it comes down to it, Leona and Malleus are two sides of the same coin. Both arrogant princes, the second born and crown prince, respectively, wishing for the other’s circumstances. Leona desperately wants that respect and recognition that Malleus has. Malleus longs for the intimacy and camaraderie that Leona is so easily able to cultivate and command. Leona has been forced to adapt, to learn, to grow from his scars. Malleus struggles with the concept of change (understandable, given his background) and actively denies reality if he finds the truth to be unpleasant. He’s not used to facing dilemmas that cannot be solved with magical strength, and has not ever been challenged in such a way. Malleus doesn’t know how to deal with that, which is partly why be panics and loses himself to emotions in book 7. (By the end of it, I’m sure he’ll be given the chance to see the error of his ways though 💦 or at least I hope he does??)

Their characters are very different, and that’s not a bad thing!! If anything, it makes their dynamic so interesting to observe and it offers varying interpretations of the same “prince” trope. I definitely know which of the two I prefer 🤡

[sweet-evie]

What Those Eyes See

A/N: Just brainrot birthed from this post about Gojo's Six Eyes. I'm going back to writing Satsuki's 1st birthday now.

✨ masterlist ✨

A Saturday afternoon spent wandering through Shibuya wasn’t usually on her top list of things to do on the weekend, but when Satoru fervently asked (more like pleaded) for her company on a specific excursion of his, she couldn’t really say ‘no’.

Or more like… It was hard to tell him, ‘No.’

The distant rumble of accelerating engines, the shuffling of countless footsteps on pavement, and the distinct cacophony of the crowded town had not left her ears ever since she and Satoru had left the subway station. This town with its beeps and whistles and chatter held her attention, so much so that she barely heard Satoru’s voice above the symphony of hectic city life.

“More than a handful of pregnant women are out today.” Satoru spoke nonchalantly, walking beside her with one hand in his jeans’ pocket, while the other hand was busy twirling a blue sucker in his mouth.

Part of her didn’t even believe that she heard him right. Why did he say it like he was just talking about the weather?

“What?”

He peered at her over the rims of his sunnies, blue eyes that mirrored clear skies sparkling under the light of the afternoon sun.

“Mhmm… You heard me. Don't know if I told you this, Sweetheart, but I can see a lot of things.” The grin stretched across his lips was nothing short of attractive and shit-eating. “And to think, you mistook me for a blind man when we met.”

She narrowly side-stepped a couple hurrying down the sidewalk, bags swinging from both of their arms.

“Yeah, you're the extreme opposite of blind.” She shook her head and smirked at him. “You’re telling me you have an ultrasound with those eyes?”

Satoru pursed his lips and made a show of humming out loud thoughtfully.

"That's different.” He popped the sucker out of his mouth. “Ultrasounds use high-frequency sound waves to show you pictures of the fetus, right?” At her shrug and refusal to meet his eyes, he continued explaining as they headed for their destination. “With the Six Eyes however, I see more than just the person’s physical body. There's cursed energy, and then there's the formation of the human soul. The unborn child’s soul resides right next to the mother's. Kind’a hard to miss two of those stuck together and sharing one body." 

The longer he talked, the more her questions multiplied.

The Six Eyes and what it could see had always been a point of intrigue for her. Over the years, Satoru never bothered telling her the intricate details or the true scope of what he could see out of his own volition. If she was curious about aspects of his power, she would always ask and he would give her a direct answer. She had never asked him to explain all of it to her in great detail, and that was because part of her suspected that even if he would indulge that request, she wouldn’t be capable of comprehending it anyway — certainly not in a way Satoru himself understood it.

Besides… where would one even begin?

So the additional piece of information he’d offered out of the blue would have been odd under normal circumstances if she hadn’t been keen on withholding important news of her own for the past few weeks.

“As a matter of fact,” Satoru mused as they paused at another crosswalk, “There are eight pregnant women in this area right  now. Not sure if they know though. It seems like it's pretty early.”

In the end, concealing it had been useless from the beginning.

“Satoru…”

“Hm?”

“You already know huh?”

“Nine pregnant women, if we include you.” The answering grin he flashed her way was an answer all on its own. “I knew from the first week.”

Of course he knew… Of course he found out.

She was pleasantly surprised to find out that there was no trace of panic nor apprehension in her, only resignation. Despite how meticulously she’d disposed of her positive pregnancy test and how carefully she’d planned her first doctor’s appointment after her discovery, the truth etched into her own soul revealed itself anyways.

Of course Satoru and his Six Eyes knew about the existence of their unborn child before she did.

“Why didn't you say anything? You knew before I did. I discovered it in the fifth week.”

“And even after you found out, you obviously didn't want me to know right away. I didn’t want to pressure you or anything.” Or possibly freak her out with the knowledge that he knew before she could even guess about her child’s existence.

“So what changed your mind now?”

“It’s been 17 weeks. I can’t wait anymore. I also just wanted to start shopping for stuff for the nursery with you.”

“Satoru, you're not bothered?”

“Baby, we've been dating for four years. Why would I be bothered?”

It was a stupid question. If she wasn’t so preoccupied with her own discomfort, her nausea, and her silent struggle to keep all the hardships to herself during the first trimester, perhaps she would have noticed all the little things Satoru did every day to help ease her discomfort. In hindsight, she should have noticed the addition of health supplements in the kitchen, the well-stocked fridge and pantry, and Satoru’s insistence on hiring someone who could do household chores for them.

And in hindsight, she shouldn’t have hesitated in telling him.

She should have trusted him more.

“It’s something we never talked about before. You’re… You’re not disappointed?”

“Disappointed in who?” The look on his face was a cross between being offended and a little sad. “You? Just what kind of guy do you think I am?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that… I just— I’ve already decided on keeping the baby, but I don’t know if you—”

He sighed, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “You’re right. It’s something we haven’t talked about, and we should talk more about this later… Lay down our plans and stuff for the coming months. But for now, I just want you to know that I’m happy about starting a family with you.”

“You really mean that?” Maybe it was the sentiment or perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones acting up, but the unshed tears that gathered at the edges of her eyelids revealed the relief and the gratitude welling up within her.

“I wouldn’t have asked you out today to shop for baby things with me if it were otherwise.” Satoru’s lopsided smile was assurance at its finest.

“Excuse you, you never mentioned what we were supposed to be doing here today.”

“Right… Well, that’s on me.” He grinned and slipped an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer to his side, “But also, you didn’t think I knew up ‘til now.”

“Satoru, I can’t with you.”

At the very least, it was nice to know her anxieties over the whole thing amounted to nothing after all.

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 4 - Corruption~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: An intense evening with Alastor starts to corrupt your judgment. Your list and morals are put into question as you start to uncover his intentions with you and the full scope of your abilities.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), Smut (oral and fingers), brief mentions of blood and bodily harm, cursing, fluff, actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.3k Words (Ya'll wanted longer chapters so here ya go)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (You're on it!) Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

Had someone told you two months ago that you’d be sitting in an Overlord’s bed with his head in your hands, you’d have called them insane. Tonight though, it was your reality. Just try to keep a clear head. You pull away from the grip Alastor has on your wrists but keep your body close to his. “I don’t understand. Why do you feel like you need to protect me? I’m just some sinner here for a chance at –"

Apparently, that was the wrong answer.

The Radio Demon’s antlers grow and his eyes flash to dials. Before you can register what’s happening he has you pinned into the bed by your shoulders, placing all his weight down as he climbs on top of your body. I’m so fucked. “Why do you insist on lying to me my dear? Do you consider me a fool? I could sense your power the second I walked into that meeting, and I felt your presence as soon as you crossed the hotel doors. Oh-ho no, you’re no ordinary,” he leans closer, “ - filthy sinner.”

His tone was taunting, nearly playful, contrasting with his agitated demon form. Two minutes ago he was pressing kisses into your skin saying he would never hurt you and now he’s trying to intimidate you? He might know more than you had initially thought, but this ‘almighty/all knowing’ attitude is starting to test your patience. You’ve tried being the sweet, helpless sinner long enough. I’ve always enjoyed playing with fire, Radio Demon – two can play your game.

A giggle bubbles out of your chest. “Oh, you sense my power? Then it is quite laughable you’d think I’d ask for someone to protect me. Especially…someone like you.” The lights in the room flicker violently causing all the bulbs to burst. Alastor disappears into his shadow as the room dims. Finally free from his weight you jump up from the bed, pausing to allow your eyes to adjust. The room was dark, but the faint light from the bayou granted some visibility. “I know you’re still here Alastor. Don’t waste your energy trying to scare me. I’ve faced far mor---” a force slams into your shoulder, pushing you to the other side of the room.

With a solid thud your body hits the wall but your head is braced by a hand. You can feel Alastor’s warm breath once again on your face. He towers over you, holding the back of your head while caging you in with his other arm. His lips find your ear, “Continue to question my competence or my power and I will have to remind you who…I…am.” You shudder from the rush of adrenaline surging through your body. He pulls back to study your face, awaiting your next move. Rule #4̷͈̔.̸̹̋ ̵̣̆N̴̤͘e̸̼̎v̸̥̂e̴̫̿r̴̤̆ ̶̲̑ĺ̶̖ē̷̖t̵̞̅ ̴̮̿y̴̘͊õ̵̬u̴̻̓r̶̥͌ ̷͙̿w̴̨̒e̸̺̎a̶̻̿k̸̮͋n̶̢͝e̵͇͛ṣ̶̏s̶͕͘è̸ͅs̸̬̔ ̶͎̈s̵̺̿ȟ̵͚ő̴͖w̵͔͝

I might regret this later but fuck it. “Remind me then.” You breathily tease. The demon’s pupils grow, and his smile widens, “As you wish, ma chère.”

Alastor’s lips crash into yours with a hungry passion - his tongue immediately begging to taste your mouth. The hand behind your head was now entwined in hair, gripping the base of your skull. The other hand forcefully pushed on your lower back to make your body flush with his. You throw your arms around his neck to deepen your kiss and feel - Oh my God…he’s completely hard. Did my defiance give him that much of a thrill? This was not how I thought tonight would play out. A warmth starts between your legs from his kiss alone. The initial plan to push the demon to his breaking point is being rapidly replaced with the desire to break him in other ways.

Your head is abruptly ripped back, making you cry out in pain and frustration. His fingers hold your hair tight as he moves your head to look up at him. “I tried to be gentle with you darling, but it seems like you prefer to make things more…. interesting.” Alastor uses his grip on your hair to drag you across the room, tossing you onto the bed.

The force of his hand reignites your initial rage, “What the fuck is your ---" his lips press back into yours. Pulling himself on top of you he pushes a knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clothed heat and making you push into him. A smug laugh rumbles in his chest. You grasp his vest to pull him closer, but he breaks away yet again to grab your hands - pinning them to either side of your head.

“Quite a position you’ve gotten yourself in dear. What was that about not needing my protection?” he leans over and drags his long tongue up your jawline forcing a whimper out of your throat. “Ah it seems your body betrays you. It’s crying out for me, isn’t it?” Letting go of your hands he snaps his fingers, queuing for his shadow to slide your pants down. The sudden rush of cold sends chills over your bare skin. Show SOME restraint. Don’t just lay here and let him think he’s in charge.

“I might be slightly unraveled but from what I see, you aren’t as in control as you think.” Your hand palms the prominent bulge behind his zipper. He freezes, having not expected you to touch him so aggressively. Using one hand to undo his belt and pants button, you use the other to continue to tease him through his clothes. “Seems like you’re the one who needs me.” you say slipping your hand under his boxers, starting to rub up and down his length. Alastor’s eyes roll back, and a deep growl settles in his chest. Got him.

To your surprise, Alastor is (for once) at a complete loss for words. He hangs his head as he grinds against your hand. You drink in the beautiful moans dripping from his lips with every stroke your hand delivers. The breathy sounds of his pleasure make you squirm under him.

You swear you hear a husky “no” when you pull away. Looking up, his eyes darken and his voice rumbles like gravel, “Mmmm, that’s it.”

Oh shit…

Alastor gets up and grabs your hips, ripping them to the edge of the bed. You hiss when his nails dig into your skin, creating red droplets around each of his fingers. He lowers himself to his knees and traces the cuts with his mouth – eagerly drinking up what little blood had spilled. Uhg – Cannibals.

There’s no time to process the stinging on your skin before you feel his teeth at your thighs, making a trail of bite marks and kisses up to your heat. He pauses to look at your now soaked slit, flashing you a wicked smile as hooks one of your legs on his shoulder and kisses just around where you needed him to be. You buck slightly, giving him all the permission he needs to begin devouring you, flicking his tongue and suckling like it was his last meal.

Your hand slides into his hair, being mindful not to grab his ears or antlers. You tighten your grip, pulling a groan from Alastor before you start to grind into the warmth of his mouth. Feeling your body plead for more, he hastily thrusts in two of his fingers, massaging in and out while your walls spasm around him. You feel him hum in amusement as his tongue continues to lap at your heat, your breathless whines fueling his hunger.

Tears begin to sting your eyes. The tension was too much, “Wait –  no - not yet!“ you try to push away but he hooks onto your thigh, forcing you down onto his mouth. Looking down you meet his eyes, his stare silently begging you to surrender to him. You give in as your head and eyes roll back in sheer bliss. “F-fuck - Alastor!“ you call out to him as an unfamiliar blaze ripples through your body. You reach a point of no return – no logical thoughts, no background noise. Your only focus is to ride out your own resolve.

Alastor gently works you through the high. As your spasms ease up, he pulls away completely. You watch him remove his fingers and put them to his lips - licking each one clean. You can’t help but be in awe of the erotic view – hair disheveled, shirt mostly unbuttoned, and the glow of the bayou casting over his face as he savors the mess you’ve become, the mess he’s made of you. “Is this all it takes to make you beg for me, ma chère?”

A cheeky smile spreads across your face while you set yourself up on your elbows “Beg? I don’t beg for any man.”

“Oh darling…” he crawls over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You’ll soon find out I’m far greater than any man. Let’s pick up this little conversation tomorrow, shall we?” Before you can respond, he snaps his fingers, making the world around you quickly fade out and back in. Just like that you were back in your room and on your own bed.

What in the actual fuck just happened? You stand up from your bed, still completely bare from the waist down. Could have at least sent me back with my pants, asshole. 

As if hearing your thoughts you see a shadow slip under your door delivering your neatly folded slacks then bolting right back out. How the - you know what, no. I’m too tired for this shit. 

Any other night you would have stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing for the next day, but not tonight. Your eyes close before your head hits the pillow.

Between helping Angel then Alastor throwing you around, you wake up feeling like you got hit by a train as expected. You drag yourself out of bed and head into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower will help wash away some of the tension. Removing your shirt you begin to examine your naked body in the mirror. Your shoulder was turning an ugly shade of green and smaller bluish-purple bruises riddled your arms, hips, and thighs, reminding you of every place his fingers touched. Guess he was rougher than I thought. You shake your head and laugh – realizing the twisted satisfaction you feel seeing the aftermath of the night’s events.

Your body welcomes the sting of the hot water as you step inside the shower.  Closing your eyes, you begin to relax while your mind wanders.  

Alastor was quite an enigma. He said he could ‘sense’ your power which surprisingly didn’t worry you as much as you thought. Oddly enough it felt like a small weight off your chest having someone in the hotel finally know some truth, though you would have preferred it to be someone, anyone, other than Alastor. What truly troubled you was the lengths he seemed prepared to go to earn your trust. He was a powerful demon Overlord; he had an arsenal of ways to get what he wanted – fear, torture, bribery, death etc. Hell, with his reputation you were half expecting him to offer up a deal – but he didn’t. Why bother kissing me? Why be so vulnerable? Was he just trying to get a rise out of me? Trick me? Of course he was. Did he really think I would magically trust him just because he made me -

Three loud knocks at the door jolt you out of your thoughts. “What’s up!?”

“Just checking in! You missed breakfast and the usual afternoon activities. Everything okay?” Charlie’s sweet voice called back to you. Damn I slept through the day?

“Oh sorry to worry you, just not feeling – I have a bad headache. Could you please send Nifty up with some tea? Thank you!” You really didn’t feel like leaving your room today anyway. If Alastor wanted to pick up your little chat so badly, he knew where to find you.

Finding out the day was already halfway over; you finish up your shower and get dressed in comfortable clothes - sweatpants and a large off the shoulder tee. No use dressing up when you have zero intentions on leaving your room or seeing anyone, other than Nifty of course. Unfortunately, the hot shower only temporarily relaxed your sore body – the pain in your back and shoulders once again begin to throb. You decide to kick back in bed with a book while awaiting tea.

You don’t even look up from your book when someone knocks at your door, “Come on in Niff – just set it on the dresser, please and thank you.” The door opens and your ears ring. Of course. I should have guessed.

“Well good evening my dear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to hide away from me. Did we not agree that we’d continue our conversation today?” Alastor hums as he walks into the room. He might not have been who you expected but at least brought the tea you asked for.

“Good thing you know better.” You jeer. Although you’re apprehensive of his illusively true intentions, you can’t help but smile at him looking so affable, pouring two cups of tea, and sitting himself on the side of your bed. “I’m just not feeling great, that is all. I’m tired and achy.” Reaching for the cup, your shirt moves to expose your bruised shoulder.

His eyes immediately lock onto your discolored skin. “And that wouldn’t be because of our little…altercation…would it?” his gaze wonders to see the marks speckled down your arms. His usually harsh stare softens as he sees what he did. Is that remorse?

“You didn’t hurt me if that’s what you’re asking. I usually feel like this after…” Stop stop STOP TALKING. Rule #2̷̦͒.̶̛͚ ̷̠͌N̶̰̄e̵̞͗v̸̹͝e̶̘̾r̶̜͋ ̵͉̌t̷̤̑e̶̹͒l̸̮̇ĺ̵͔ ̵͙̇á̴̠ ̷̦̅s̷̰̓ǫ̷̔u̵̺̅l̶̼͐ ̸̜̿w̶̪̆h̷͇̽a̶̡͠t̸̙́ ̷̖͠(̵̪̐o̶͖̾ȑ̴̨ ̶͓̊h̵̻͗o̸͎͠ẅ̵̢ ̶̝̕m̸̧̈́ṵ̵̔c̴̳̉h̵̡̀)̶̖̌ ̴̓͜p̵̡͐ö̴̡w̷͈̏ȅ̵̫ŕ̷͚ ̴̗͛y̷̳̔ó̴͙ư̷̞ ̶͔͘h̵̥̍a̴͍͘v̶̬̚é̵͈

He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, “After - what exactly? Wouldn’t have anything to do with why you fainted last night, would it?”

He obviously knows something.

You avoid his question, “You said last night you can sense me. What exactly does that mean?” Alastor sighs as he sets his cup down. He reaches for your hands like he did the night before, only this time he held them tightly in his, “Close your eyes.”

“Uhm - Excuse me?”

He huffs, “Have I not made it clear that I have no intention in hurting you?”

“I mean – “ you motion towards your bruises.

“Just close your damn eyes.”

You reluctantly close your eyes and listen to his instruction, “Concentrate on what you feel, and I mean really dig deep into the feeling your power gives you.” Okay fine I’ll play along, what’s the worst that can happen? You take a deep breath and focus on the flutters your stomach usually felt when you made a contract with a sinner. Of course you could feel the power each one gave you. The human soul was like pure energy, it was no wonder their collection was used to feed the Overlord hierarchy.

Feeling a pull, Alastor puts your palms flush to his chest. Your small flutters explode into full body vibrations - an intense static floods your veins and your hands begin to glow the soft pink you so often had to hide. The feeling makes you pull back in a panic. Damn him! How?  

He responds to your look of shock with a breathy chuckle as stands up from the bed. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked all too pleased with himself. The arrogant reaction snaps what little patience you had left with him. You heatedly stand up as pink flames burst from your body and eyes while two small black horns crack through your skull. “What the HELL are you trying to get at Alastor? Why toy with me if you know so much already!? What the fuck do you want from me?” your voice was fierce but low. I don’t need Charlie or anyone else to hear me.

A smile crosses Alastor’s face, wider than you’ve seen before. His face would probably split if it went any wider. “Oh my dear, your demon form is beautiful.” He says coolly, placing a hand on your arm and hooking the other under your chin. His touch quickly brings you back to normal form. “Please sit, I can explain everything.”

“I don’t trust you,” you say as you both sit back down on the edge of the bed. His brows furrow at your statement, “Just hear me out?” You nod for him to continue.

“I took a…. sabbatical…seven years ago. When I returned, I felt drawn somewhere. My body began to ache from the pull. I could never figure out where I needed to go - until I walked into that meeting and felt you.”

“I’m…not following.”

“You know how magnets work? A negative charge and positive charge attract, or rather, are drawn to each other. Once together they create a force that can be unbreakable. The power we both possess does exactly that.” He grabs your hands again, flashing you a look of…is that excitement?

You’re skeptical of his idea, it sounded insane. Stupid even. But it made sense. You also felt the pull and ringing whenever he was around. As for opposites attract, that couldn’t be truer to the two of you. He rose to power by causing pain and carnage, abusing the souls he collected for his own gain. Meanwhile you were doing the exact opposite - protecting, healing, doing good for damned lesser souls.

“Okay say I believe all this - Seems like you would only want to use me and keep me around to feed your own power-hungry needs. I will not be some pet, locked away and only played with when it is convenient for you!” Your words come out involuntarily tearful. A pain burns in your chest at the realization that you wanted him to want you. Rule #3̸̭͗.̴̠̇ ̴͔̉N̷̙̉e̷̞͌v̶̪̾e̶̼̽r̶͍̈́ ̶̜̏b̷͈́ȓ̸͈ì̶̲n̶͚̍g̶̣̕ ̸̙̀a̷̼̚n̷̠̆y̶̺̕ö̶̫́n̷̯̈́e̶̤̅ ̷̯̽ť̷̪o̴̻̾o̵̱̚ ̷͙̃c̵͙̽l̴̞̋o̷̦̓s̵̪̎e̸̦̚

Seeing the worry flash across your face, Alastor grabs you with both hands and presses his lips into yours. Last night his kiss felt lustful and hungry. Not tonight. Right now, he kissed you like he would lose everything if he couldn’t have you.

He breaks the embrace, resting his forehead on yours, “I was never a good man. I will never be redeemed, nor do I want that for myself. I am selfish and possessive over the things I want. I will not lie to you, I want power. But I also want you. Not as a pet. Not as a tool. As an equal. Working together, not even the King of Hell can stand against us.” His words were calculated, voice smooth like whiskey – and you were drinking in every drop.  

The list. Stick to the list. This has death written all over it. You can’t help anyone if you’re (more) dead, come on use the LIST! Rule #1̷̨͠.̷̗̓ ̴̡͝N̴͙̒e̶͐ͅṽ̷̬ẽ̴̲r̶̖͗ ̵̟́t̸̥̕ṛ̵̃ȗ̴̢s̶̙̃t̵̠̕ ̸̛̜à̶̭ǹ̷̫ọ̶͂ṯ̵̃h̸̢̒e̶̜̋r̶̳̒ ̸̯̓O̴̳̓v̷̖͑e̴͎̅r̸̮̀l̴̼͐o̶͚̕ȑ̴͕d̸̝̎

You pull his hands away, holding them between your fingers as you draw nervous little circles in his palms. “Alastor this is…a lot to take in. Your words are striking, but I need more. Prove I can trust you. Prove you want me by your side. Then maybe, maybe, I will consider your offer. Until then, I think it’s best we don’t speak about this to anyone. Deal?”

Alastor’s smile was soft with half-lidded eyes. “Consider it, a deal.” He leans into you as green and pink light flashes around the room. Your first deal with the Radio Demon, sealed with a kiss. 

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