#also poor fledge

[nomaishuttle]

hrm mixed emotions on something

[thedevotionaltour]

in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC. Talon Dick. Part 2 of Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls

~Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you~

Danny was terrified when he got the body of Talon in his morgue. The Court of Owls was notorious for leaving no trace after work. But Talon, a young man only a few years older than him, did not look like a mindless killing machine at all. Of course, the first time he had a couple of stab wounds from his new acquaintance but after numerous assurances that his help would remain their little secret and that he would not inform his superiors that he had fucked up on the mission, Talon began to trust him a little. as one dead boy to another. In a few months, most of the Talons come to him for first aid, and of course he got attached to the guys. After all, Gotham is not Amity Park and without the other dead ones around Phantom felt a little lonely. It was nice to give these poor people a few quiet minutes. Danny’s assistant has warned him many times not to mess with the Court of Owls, but Danny are Phantom and from the first time he met one of them he was planning to lose his temper and beat the boys' bosses to free them.

Fenton was not prepared to lead the Court of Owls. Even if Danny got his education as a villain he never thought he’d work according to his profession. But leave a whole den? nest? of creatures turned into weapons he could not. Of course, the best choice after defeating the leaders of the Court would be to destroy the entire organization. But Danny couldn’t do that.

Talons were killers, means of intimidation, even if not of their own volition. They will be killed (again) or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. Talons needed safety and a good therapist, not all of this. Danny’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to take care of them, but the others won’t do it. People are afraid of everything different. They won’t care that these dead are just victims, they’ll only see monsters. He could be half-human, but now he has to think like a full ghost. Talons are dead like him. And they have been dehumanized, tortured, used. People can be cruel. To do the right thing, he has to protect them.

It was difficult for Danny to identify likes and dislikes of his new friends because they always had the same facial expression and were taught that they had no feelings. Bullshit. Danny’s parents also think ghosts have no emotions, but they just have wrong theories and do not manipulate them to make ghosts think the same. Well, maybe it’s because they don’t think ghosts can think at all, but still! So, Danny know that number three loves strawberry jam, and number five always steals some of his cereal, and number 11 always gets closer to the music column to enjoy the sound. And he also know that the Talons weren’t fully fed in their organization because they definitely have problems with their digestive system, and he is going to fix it. Vlad said that he had trouble taking human food for only a few months after the portal accident, and some of the Talons were dead for years and still use injecting nutrient solutions. When a Dead Man can’t have a couple of spoons of treats, well, that’s a crime.

He needs to find a way to consult with Frostbite and conduct a full-fledged health diagnostics for his 'minions'. And he needs to settle the paperwork so guys have a legitimate reason to live in the Infinite Realms.

~~~~~ Danny: Hey Jazz, I’m in trouble. When can you come to Gotham? This time I don’t mind hearing a little advice.

~~~~~

Even though Dr Fenton smelled like death and blood all the time, the smell was different. And this difference was enough that something dead inside them swore allegiance to this Owl at their will. Not that they had it, of course. Weapons don’t have free will. But at least pretending to be able to choose is nice.

The new Master was weird, but in a good way. Not that this Talon know more about what is good than any other Talon. Ah, Di- Talon had a headache. Anyway, serving him is right. They all feel it..And feelings matter!! Well, they are not supposed to have them too but… looks like the young owl didn’t mind.

Master was not angry at how Talon № 4 frowned when the master had to pull a bullet out of his shoulder, and he missed Talon's sweet laughter when it saw the battle of Signal and Spice King on TV. The only times he raised his voice to them were when they were trying to threaten people near the master. Looks like this owl wanted to instill fear on his own. Strange. Usually there was always an enemy of the court who had to be hunted down and destroyed.

~~~~~

Danny: See, when you kill people, you do not make it easy for me. First, I will need to examine the bodies and write the report of their death. Second, if their souls remain restless, they will become my problem again. No more trying to get the cashier to have a heart attack. He said they ran out of the product I needed, not that he’s cursing my family for the next millennium. No one wants to see any more angry ghosts in Gotham. Me after a 24-hour shift is enough, okay?

Talons were alarmed. So far the master had shown no signs that he might want to completely break one of the weapons. But what if this owl is planning on punishing them for all their mistakes at once when he’s really angry?

Talon is not supposed to show initiative or empathy. But Talon 12, who suffered an injury in the course of a mission with old owls, has not yet recovered. They inadvertently hid it when the leadership changed. 12 has not yet met Doctor Fenton, and they do not know whether the privileges of medical care are retained now when they belong to him. So far, the Master has been rather careless about their movements and a few of them have slipped away for a while to check on a fellow. They didn’t lie if they weren’t asked about another weapon, right? They shouldn’t be punished too severely when the Owl finds out. Talons were hoping that Doctor Fenton, who was not in a hurry to look at the document of the court, would allow them not to write off the damaged thing. № 12 was an old and experienced weapon and could train beginners even if it has only one hand now.

Well, that was the plan. Talons allowed themselves to become too careless. Terrible mistake. Even the Owl that is usually nice to them remains dangerous. They need to find a way to satisfy their young master. Young Owls always have anger issues, not that Talons can judge.

The youngest Talon shared information that he sometimes had flashbacks of a working red bird who always had a murderous expression until he got to the coffee pot fluid. And it's non-Talon past was never afraid of this bird. The chick could always be calmed with this dark liquid. Coffee is something that will return the master to the favorable mood!

Talons rejoiced at this remarkable discovery and decided to send one of them on a mission as soon as possible to get rid of the potential danger.

~~~~

Danny: Thanks for the coffee, man. Hey, you also took another drink, judging by the dollars in the check. I'm so proud of you! How it was? Good?

Talon thought for a second and nodded. Yes, it was good. He didn’t drink the drink himself but when a coffee shop employee wrote down his order with a trembling hand, a boy appeared in the door.

This boy, now almost a young man, he was from his memories. Another coffee was automatically added to the order.

On his way out, Talon walked up to the sleeping chick and gave a cup to him. Even without opening his eyes, the bat’s cub sniffed and sucked the drink. Dick chirped with delight and patted boy's head, ignoring the frozen people.

That's a true magic drink which is commanding the minds of the powerful of this world. Yes, it will help them for sure!

~~~~

Danny: See, Jazz, Dick’s making progress! He went to the coffee shop today. That’s great, isn’t it?

Jazz: First, don’t call him that, we’re still not sure that’s his name and not the way Owls used to insult him.

Danny: Hey, the fact that he hissed when you called him Richard proves nothing. I don’t like being called Daniel either, or, over my dead body, Dan. I have to call him something. They’re all Talons. What are your suggestions? Jazz: We’ll talk about this later. Now back to the coffee question. Danny, did you forget anything when you let Talon go for a walk? Danny: Which one? Jazz: Don’t play dumb! Did you open the news headlines today or not? This is serious! Danny: What? Shit...civilian clothes. I didn’t think he’d wear a combat suit for it. Jazz: Didn’t you give them outfits for everyday use? Danny: Yeah, I did! But they still wear their Halloween outfits. All the time. Look, it’s not my fault they take everything I say as an order. When I asked them to make the tea and our teapot broke, they broke into some guy’s house and stole it. Jazz: Which guy? Did you at least apologize? Danny: One of Hood’s goons. I’m pretty sure he’s already met Dick on patrol, 'cause the first thing he did called Jason and start crying about being followed. Lucky for him Red was at my house that night and went to calm goon down. But I swear to you, Dick was a little shit on purpose. Of all the apartments choose his? Nah, such coincidences do not exist.

Jazz: I could be happy that he’s getting more independent in his decision making but now I feel like I have to offer the poor guy a discount therapy course.

Damian: Drake, we need to talk. I know about your investigation. You suspect one of the Talons is our missing Grayson. I’m willing to provide some evidence in exchange for… Tim: I don’t suspect, I know that. Damian: What? Where from? Tim: Well, the quadruple somersault was a good hint. And the fact that the Red Hood ran from him through the streets screaming that he wouldn’t take lunch from a damn golden child is also a tip. Damian:...Not a word to my father until we know more, right? I don’t want my older brother thrown in Arkham. Tim: Agree. It’s not like he doesn’t have a memory problem. He wouldn’t have made Alfred worried if leaving was his choice. We need more information.

Meanwhile in Gotham, Alfred aka the only one batfam member with more than one functioning brain cell *on his way to his first grandson and future husband of his sweet angel Jason*.

Danny: Jazz, we need to clean this house right now. Jazz: Since when do you start spring cleaning? Danny: I don’t know how to explain, it’s not a ghost sense, it’s more an unexplained sense of danger. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?

~~~~~

Talon №5 stood in the knitting shop in thought. What color would the little mistress prefer? It should remain useful even if the Owl does not give them direct orders. Knitting a cute sweater for mistress Dani would be a good start. Yeah, that color’s gonna be perfect. And maybe it should stop holding those needles like a weapon, it makes the cashier nervous, and he wants to pay without saving a civilian from losing consciousness.

~~~~~

Danny became a little alarmed when Talon threw himself at the old man standing on the porch. To his surprise, the Briton readily embraced the bird, and Dick let him. Talons who stood behind Danny happily chirped. Making their youngest member happy things always meant something good.

Alfred: Gentlemen, good afternoon. I guess I should thank you all for taking care of my dear grandson. Would you let me come in for a cup of tea?

[sm-baby]

Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?

More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3

I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕

I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.

The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!

Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!

You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!

More on them later at the end! :3

Dream sequence theory

Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!

Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.

And then she wakes up, freaked out!!

Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!

This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3

also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!

Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!

Whats up with Jax?

hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...

We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!

I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.

...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner

If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,

Then It escalates

This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.

Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.

I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!

I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!

[m0llygunn]

friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)

MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.

cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!! wc: 8.3k+

0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00

Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.

“How are my girls doing today?”

Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend. 

Eddie thinks he’s a comedian. 

With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.

His latest stunt was when he greeted you for your usual Friday get together. He swung the door open quick enough to stun you and immediately dropped to his knees. With a firm hold on your hips, he leaned in close to your belly, “Hi, baby girl. Did you miss daddy?” he cooed with big eyes and an even bigger smirk.

With a hand on his forehead, pushing him away, unfortunately you laughed, and unfortunately it feels like all of his jokes are coming back to bite the both of you in the ass. It’s hardly been 24 hours since the offending, but objectively funny joke, and neither of you are laughing now.

“Maybe you just ate something bad?” he offers with sheer, dumb, hope. “Or maybe it’s the flu?” he says, snapping his fingers together like he struck the gold mine of an idea.

Eddie can be as hopeful as he wants, but as you lower yourself down to the couch from vomiting your insides out in the bathroom, the panic in his eyes is evident.

“Maybe,” you reply dully, dropping your head to rest against the back of the couch. 

“Do you want to lay down? I can bring you to my bed?” he asks with concern lacing his words. 

“I’m—” you start, but with acid suddenly rising in your throat again, your eyes go wide and you jump from the couch with a renewed energy, just barely making it to the bathroom.

────────────

To put it plainly, you vomited two more times after. When you finally felt like you were done throwing up, with an empty stomach and a sore body, Eddie helped you to his bed and you slept off your spell of nausea. When you woke up a few hours later feeling a touch better, both of you decided the best choice would be to buy a pregnancy test. 

“Just to be safe, right?” he had said, eyes burning into you as you laid sprawled across his bed, feeling no longer nauseous, but instead like an empty shell of a person. “We should buy one, right?” he asked again, eyes growing wider in your silence. 

It felt like even moving your sight line to look at him took too much energy, but you met his gaze, and he nodded his head like he had made his own silent conclusion. 

“We’ll go after, okay?” he said, continuing his one-sided conversation. Standing from the edge of the bed he wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before straightening out and rubbing his hand down from his mouth to his chin. He nods a second time, doing what you assume is him coming to another silent conclusion. “I’ll get you crackers?” he continued, eyebrows raised. 

With your eyes locked on him, you swallowed the dryness in your mouth. You hadn’t done anything notable, hadn’t even attempted to answer him, but his face softened, mouth turning into a regretful frown. 

“Sorry you’re sick,” he said, bending down to pat your head, letting his thumb trace gently across your temple. It was a tender movement and you absorbed the warmth of his contact, letting your eyes blink shut. “I’ll get you water too, okay? Water and crackers and we’ll see how you feel after that.”

Eddie’s a lot of things, but nurturing and soft, and with high levels of compassion is not exactly how you would describe him. He can be those things, but principally, he’s more of an asshole— but one that you love enough to keep around, obviously. But an asshole, nonetheless. The last time you had the flu he laughed at you and made fun of the way you threw up, albeit, it was when you both were in your teens, but regardless, he was a dickhead about it— and most recently, when you had gotten a cold, he ceaseless made fun of your constant sneezing and the blazing red tone of your sore nose from blowing it so much, calling you Rudolf and asking how ‘Big Red’ was doing at this time of the year. Asshole.

Dichotomously to the Eddie you’ve known all these years, he grazes the backside of his knuckles across your cheek, rubbing them back and forth gently. It's painfully obvious he doesn’t do this often from the way his hand jerks, finger nearly poking you in the eye, but you appreciate the notion. You know you must really look awful if he’s managed to compose this much compassion for you. 

────────────

They say that nothing makes people more productive than the last minute. As the pharmacy's closing time approached, it was only then when either of you felt so inclined to even mention going to get the test.

After Eddie got you your water and crackers, you started feeling much better, and feeling much better meant it was easy to pretend like nothing had happened. You both unhealthily and aggressively ignored your potential futures by acting like it was any regular Saturday evening. You talked about your upcoming work week, and watched the usually shitty reruns on TV. Eddie made some freezer-burnt chicken nuggets, you warmed up some soup, and it was boring and uneventful, but it was the most comforting that boring and uneventful could be. 

The sun began to set and it was like the ticking of Wayne's alarm clock on the coffee table beside you only got louder and louder as time went on. 

“S’almost eight,” Eddie had eventually mumbled. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the TV as you found this particular old rerun episode of Mama’s Family to be the most interesting thing in the world, which is odd considering you usually change the channel whenever it's on. 

With both of you sitting at the couch, feet kicked up, resting side by side on the coffee table, Eddie moves his foot far enough to just barely knock yours— an attempt to pull your attention away from the screen.

“The show’s almost done,” you say, turning your head towards him but keeping your eyes on the TV.

“The pharmacy closes at eight.”

“I feel fine,” you shrug.

Moving your feet from the tabletop, Eddie copies you, putting his feet down on the floor, but he goes a step further, sitting up from the couch. He stands, facing you, but you keep your eyes on the TV, ignoring him fivefold. He props his hand on his hip, arm bent at the elbow, one foot tap away from looking like someone's mother. You ignore him tenfold. 

“You want to stay here while I go?”

“Go where?”

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” he laughs. You can hear the amusement in his voice. His hand drops from his hip and you look at him to see the smirk written across his face.

“Go where?” you double down. Huffing a laugh from his nose, he turns, opting to get himself ready, and begrudgingly, you do too. With your feet dragging through every step, you get in the car, and Eddie drives the two of you to the pharmacy. 

────────────

Under the bright, white fluorescent lights of aisle number eight, you and Eddie stare your potential future down. An unnerving amount of tests sit on the shelf at eye level, some with cute little daisy packaging, others looking sterile and pharmaceutical. 

“Why are there so many options?” Eddie asks, picking one up and flipping it to read the back. You look at the price tags and your mouth nearly drops to the floor. 

“Why are they so expensive?” you ask, taking the box out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf.

“Hey,” he objects, reaching out for it. “That one says response in twenty minutes.” 

“That one is, like, twice as much as that one,” you argue, pointing to another test.

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the test from the shelf. “That one says a two hour response,” he continues, pointing at the exaggerated font on the front of the test in his hand, waving it in your face. “I’d rather be shitting my pants for twenty minutes than two hours.”

He’s acting normal, braggart and teasing, you can’t muster that same energy. Your stomach swirls and squeezes and does everything it shouldn’t do. Nerves or nausea, you’re not sure. A ceiling light flickers two aisles over and you can’t stand being here.

“Maybe…” you pause. Your hands start to turn clammy. “Maybe we shouldn’t get any,” you say, shifting in place. You turn to fully face Eddie, looking at him as he has a boxed test pulled close to his face, reading the side of it. “Maybe we should just go home.” 

Eddie turns to you, brows furrowed. “No— what? You just spent the whole day throwing up, we gotta get something,” he says, looking at you like you’re insane. The ceiling light flickers again and you definitely feel insane. 

It wasn’t the whole day, it was just the morning, you nearly object until you realize it doesn’t help your case. 

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you chew on the edge of your nail, distracting yourself from the tremble in your limbs. From left to right and back again, you flutter your sight over the different options. There’s too many. Too many and it’s overwhelming. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. The weight of his arm settles around your shoulder, pulling you so that your bicep meets the edge of his chest in a half hug. “Don’t be nervous,” he continues, in a low coo. You step inwards, turning the half hug into a full hug. Taking a deep breath, all you can muster is a short nod of your head. 

His arm moves from your shoulder, hand grazing down to your mid back. Focusing your attention on his touch, you take another deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent. Smoky, woodsy, and a contradicting sweetness from whatever shampoo that was probably the cheapest and on sale.

“We’ll be fine, remember? You probably just ate something bad.” he says. He rubs his hand up between your shoulder blades and back down. You want to believe him, you really do. 

“I’m scared,” you say quietly.

“Why?” he asks, voice just as small as yours. 

“It… it doesn’t feel like I ate something bad.” You swallow down the jagged edges of emotion that your voice gets stuck on. His hand, mid rub, pauses and you pull away enough to see him. His eyes glaze over with something you’re unsure of before he quickly blinks it back. 

“Well…” he swallows. “What does it feel like then?” he asks, brows turned upwards. He's nervous, you’re nervous, and the light flickers again, reminding you where you are. 

“Can we go home? Please.” Your nerves become far too jittery and it’s starting to turn into nausea again. Your stomach lurches and Eddie watches you for another moment, eyes searching yours until he nods, patting your back before pulling away.

“Yeah. I’ll just buy this one and we can go.” He takes your hand in his, twenty-minute-test in the other, and he guides you to the front of the store. 

────────────

“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”

“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again. 

“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test. 

Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.” 

He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.

Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood. 

“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way you think you were successful until his demeanour drops into something serious. 

“What did you mean earlier?” he asks “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”

“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.” 

Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his Casio watch. 

21:19:59 turned to 21:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath. 

With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch — or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your choking lungs, you're just about to ask, mouth already open when he speaks.

“It says negative.”

“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.

“Negative.” Eddie firmly answers.

There’s no way. You should feel a weight lift from you, but, evident avoidance aside, that feeling is still there, stronger if anything.

“I…” you start, interrupting the loud beat of silence. “I’m not saying I want to be pregnant… but I think it’s wrong, Eddie.”

“Wrong? How could it be wrong?” he says, turning around to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Aren’t they, like, only guaranteed to work like 95% of the time?”

“That’s still a lot of the time,” he says, copying your shrug.

“Yeah… but—” you shake your head, stopping yourself. This is what you wanted right? Why would you fight against the answer that you mostly hoped for? That you were already certain about in the car barely an hour ago. “Whatever. It’s probably right. I think… I think I’m just… tired.”

Eddie nods, agreeing with you. He turns enough to set the test down, abandoning cleanup for another time— gross, but when he asks you if you’re going to sleep over, you willingly ignore the unsanitary act of leaving a used pregnancy test to sit and simmer bacteria growth. 

“You gonna sleep here?”

“Can I?’

“Of course,” he laughs.

────────────

If it were a peaceful morning, you would have woken up to the warm, red tinted sun coming into Eddie’s room through the maroon coloured bed-sheet-turned-blinds. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have woken up to shared warmth, his arm just barely tossed over your hip, hand resting in the dip of your waist. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have been able to bask in the meaning of having him beside you— what it meant beyond just shared warmth, what it meant beyond friendship. 

If it were a peaceful morning, oh, if it were a peaceful morning…

If it were a peaceful morning, you wouldn’t have woken up to rising bile in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. It's not a peaceful morning, it's a race against time. With your hand cupped to your mouth, ripping yourself from the shared tangled sheets, tripping your way to the bathroom over the crap on the floor, time almost wins. 

You made it by a stroke of luck with not a second to spare.

────────────

“It must be the flu,” you had croaked weakly. Eddie nodded, looking at you with tired eyes that had been startled awake by your fumbling and awful retching.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the flu.” It was not a whole hearted agreement, but there was no way any bad food would still be in your system. And with a negative pregnancy test, the flu is the only answer. Obviously.  

The next day, in the quietness of your apartment, you kept a preemptive bowl next to your bed, just in case.

Thank god you did because it was the worst it’s been yet, and with your temperamental luck, you would not have made it to the bathroom this time.

────────────

“Hello?” Eddie answered from the other end of the telephone line. 

Your untouched breakfast sits on the table as you stand in front of your wall-hanging phone, leaning against the counter to stop yourself from keeling over entirely. 

“It's me.” 

“Oh, hey, didn’t think I’d hear from you so early, what's up?” His near chipper attitude is grating and if you could strangle someone through the phone you might have muscled up the last of your strength and considered it. 

“I’m still sick.” If you sound as awful as you feel, and equally as annoyed, it's because you are every terrible emotion in the dictionary. You are the essence of a bad mood, a side effect of how sick you’ve been.

“Shit—” he cursed. “I have work in thirty but I can stop by after?”

“Yeah, you already told me you were working,” you snark, because obviously he has work. It’s Monday.

“Do you want me to stop by after?

“I'm just telling you that I’m still sick.”

The call lulls and you can hear a slight rustle from the other end.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re sick and I feel bad,” he says, voice turning up like he's asking you if that is an alright answer. It’s not, and you twirl the phone cord between your fingers, distracting yourself from scoffing and saying something you know you’ll regret. 

The call lulls for another moment and he clears his throat, coughing right into the receiver. 

“Uh— aside from being sick… everything else okay?” he asks tentatively, pausing too frequently that it annoys you, even more so than you already are.

“I’m fine, I just feel like garbage.”

“Nothing else bothering you? I have a minute, we can talk?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re— and don’t bite my head off— but you’re not on your period?”

“Why would you ask that?” You meet his stupidity with a harsh and rightfully deserved defensiveness. “Don’t you think I would tell you if I was? You know, all things considered.” 

His voice raises as he comes to his own defence. “Well, I just thought… 'cause you thought that maybe there was a chance that the test was wrong, but then we agreed it wasn’t and…”

“And?”

“And you’re in a bad mood.”

You hang up the phone and when it rings again, you let it. 

────────────

Eddie spent the whole day being eaten alive by his thoughts. You said you had a feeling, and Eddie knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t joke around about stuff like this. He would, he has, but you wouldn't.

Since the moment you told him that you weren’t on birth control, he had been thinking about it. Hypothetically, having a kid with you wouldn’t be the worst. He’d actually… like it… maybe? Would he say that to you? No, but it's not an awful thought.

Sure he made jokes out of it, but that was just his ill mannered way of accepting the fact that he kind of, maybe, potentially, would like having a kid with you… and being more than just friends. But he could never tell you that, so he made stupid, stupid jokes. 

But now that having a baby with you is less hypothetical, he’s fucking scared. Not because it’s with you, but because he might be having a fucking baby. That’s terrifying in and of itself. 

When you first started feeling sick, he let himself really believe for about an hour that maybe you had eaten something bad, but in his heart of hearts, he knew. There was no way. Four weeks and 3 days after he came inside you— not that he's keeping track of the days— and you’re suddenly experiencing ‘food poisoning’, even though you didn’t eat anything particularly abnormal or poison-like?

You’re pregnant. So fucking pregnant. There’s no way you’re not. 

“Hey, Bill. You have kids, right?” Eddie had asked as he sat down at the break table with one of his more favourable colleagues. 

Bill, more or less his mentor— or more eloquently put, the kind soul that's been helping him work his way up to being an actual mechanic and not just the guy who cleans and sweeps up after them like he’s been doing for the last year and a bit. He’s an older gentleman, doesn’t do much small talk, is in a permanent old man bad attitude, but he’s a good guy— reminds him of Wayne at times. Eddie trusts him enough, especially not to go talking about him around town. 

“Uh-huh. Grandkids too,” he answers, barely looking up from his newspaper. Eddie knew this of course, but he couldn't think of any other way to approach the topic. 

“Right, sorry,” Eddie apologizes, wringing his hands out of nervousness and dragging out the point of interrupting Bill’s lunch break.  

“You gonna be a father?” Bill asks bluntly.

Father? Eddie's familiar with a particular ‘F’ word, uses it way too fucking much in fact. Father, on the other hand, is an ‘f’ word that was barely in his vocabulary, he could go weeks without letting that word pass through his thoughts, let alone it being a descriptor of his very own character. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open as his breath stutters like a kid getting caught red handed. “No.” he stumbles to answer. “Uh— maybe. I don’t know. We don’t know.”

“So what are you askin’?”

“Your girlfriend— uh, wife—”

“Wife,” Bill answers with an annoyed ring to it. 

“Right, your wife… What was she like when she got pregnant?” 

Bill shakes his head, ignoring the question. “Did she take a test? They have those now. Can buy ‘em at the store,” he gruffs.

“We did, but it was negative. She… she said they’re wrong sometimes though, and she thought that… she thought that maybe it was wrong?”

Bill sets down his newspaper, the edges of both his fists meeting the surface of the table top. He looks to Eddie, catching his flighty eye contact, giving him his full attention.

“Morning sickness?”

“She’s been sick the last couple of days.”

“Hormonal?”

“Hormonal?” Eddie asks, quirking a brow. Bill rolls his eyes, not unlike how Wayne has done time after time.

“Bad mood? Mood swings?”

“Kind of?”

“I won’t go into detail because I respect my wife,” Bill says, eyeing Eddie through slanted eyes. “Any changes that aren’t to do with her mood?” he asks, looking down the slope of his nose.

“Huh?” Eddie thinks hard, trying to decipher what Bill means. Bill gives Eddie an encouraging nod that quickly turns short-tempered.

“Her body? Any changes?” Bill grumps.

“Oh.” Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh— I don't know. She’s not really my girlfriend, we’re just friends.” 

“Just a friend you got pregnant?” Bill’s near-permanent-scowl breaks into a smile, lips turning at the corners in a sadistic way, eyes gleaming with taunting amusement. Eddie feels his palms start to sweat. 

“So you think she’s pregnant?”

“I think you’re up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, kid. Gettin’ a friend pregnant,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. He fixes his newspaper back upright, picking up where he left off in the classifieds. 

“Well, we’re good friends. I— she… we—” Eddie thinks about telling him that it’s you— Bill knows of you. Eddie’s talked about you enough, but he bites his tongue for the same reason that he didn’t go to Wayne about this— it would be all, ‘just ask her out’, ‘quit pussyfootin’ ‘round it,’ but he doesn’t get it, he can’t just ask you out. He—

“You like her more than a friend.” Bill says, making Eddie freeze. He opens his mouth to speak, to deny, to confirm, to anything, but nothing comes out. “Oh you got it bad, huh?” Bill continues with a teasing smile.

“C’mon, it’s not—” Eddie tries to object but Bill sees right through it. 

“You love her?”

“I…” Eddie swallows, thinking over his answer. “I don’t know…maybe?”

“Well, you got an interesting journey ahead of yous if she really is pregnant,” he laughs again.

And with that entirely unhelpful conversation, Eddie spent the rest of the day not only ruminating on you being pregnant, but now, his feelings for you as well. 

────────────

After work he went straight home, showered, got redressed in sweats and the cleanest shirt he could find and beelined straight for your apartment. He made one quick stop at the pharmacy but quicker than even he anticipated, he was at your front door. 

He knocked, and then there you were, opening the door for him, not exactly smiling— but not looking angry either, or sick, which is a good start.

Greeting him with a quiet ‘hello’, you opened the door wider. He stepped into your apartment, and like he mentally rehearsed, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he could look at your reaction, he turned, hiding his face behind the curtain of his still damp hair, and kicked his shoes off. 

He’s just trying to get back on your good side. After this morning— your bad mood, and then him only making it worse by asking if you were on your period, which he knew you weren’t because you said that it's been weird since you stopped birth control but… yeah, he’s just trying to get on your good side, definitely not anything more than that. 

Clearing his throat and praying his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel, he tries to move on. “How’re you doing?” he asks. You spare him, and you don’t mention the kiss nor give him any weird reactions— which is good, right? You would tell him off if you didn’t want him to kiss you, right?

“I’m doing fine now,” you reply, turning to lead him to the kitchen. He follows behind, humming an acknowledgement. At your counter is a full, waiting dish that looks like and smells like spaghetti. You sit back in your seat, and he takes the one next to it, putting his brown shopping bag down in front of him. 

He watches you as you bring a forkful of your dinner to your mouth. “You’re eating, you must not be feeling sick anymore?”

“No, I stopped feeling sick around lunch and then I was starving,” you say through a second mouthful, swirling your third bite around the fork. 

“Nice,” he nods. Eddie’s not sure of much, not now, hardly ever, but you feeling better around lunch means you only felt sick in the morning, and you being sick in the mornings falls exactly under the conditions of morning sickness… and that means…

Swallowing down his thoughts in a thick gulp, he reaches for the pharmacy bag. “Well, I bought another test just in case,” he rushes out quickly, moving to take out the good part of his shopping haul to lessen the blow if the test somehow pisses you off. “—and I also bought you—”

“Liquorice! Oh my god and popcorn,” you say excitedly, interrupting him with the loud crinkles of you grabbing for the package of candy, quickly ripping it open. 

Eddie watches you closely, the way your eyes light up for some of your favourite foods. He was taking a risk, buying you snacks when he knew that you’ve been sick but it was that or flowers and flowers seemed a little too… forward?

Your reaction to the snacks though, it’s not abnormal, but it’s not exactly normal either… a bit too… ravenous? To be fair, you were sick and now you’re feeling better, maybe you are just extra hungry…. But then again, there's also your bad mood earlier and sure you felt like shit from being sick, but you were usually pretty happy whenever you talked to him. He wasn’t used to all of these… mood swings.

Symptom after symptom, his thoughts finally bubble out. “I think you should take the test again,” he says, interrupting you as you rip open the bag of popcorn. You pause and he holds his breath.

With a shrug, you resume your movements, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful. “But I feel fine?” you say, waving Eddie off.

“I think… maybe just in case?”

“Here, sit down, I’ll get you some spaghetti,” you ignore him, standing from your seat. “It’s so good, I swear. This is my second plate full.” You grab a dish from the cupboard, serving some up from a pot on the stove top without waiting for a reply from Eddie— not that he had one, he was too stunned by your unconcerned mood to think of one. 

Adding a slice of garlic bread to the side of the dish, you place it down in front of him, quickly moving back to your own seat to dig into the popcorn and finish your own meal. 

“You didn’t go to work today?” he asks after mumbling a polite thank you.

“No, I called in. When I got the promo, I got like six extra sick days, plus vacation time, so I figured I might as well use them,” you shrug indifferently.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, taking a quick glance at you before looking back to his plate of food, moving his fork around the plate absentmindedly. “Do you happen to have… better insurance with your job now?” he asks, attempting to match your aloofness.

You pause your fork before shoving it in your mouth, opting to turn to look at Eddie. He purposely avoids your eye contact, continuing to swirl his fork in his food.

“Why?”

“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Whenever I get my promo—” he pauses. “—if I get the promo, Coop gives out some shitty insurance plan. Was just wondering what you were getting these days,” he continues nervously.

“I have insurance.”

“Good.”

“Why’s it good?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him.

“Is it not good? You get sick, you don’t have to pay as much— I think that’s objectively good.”

“Fine,” you relent. You stare at him for another moment, but when you finally go back to your food, Eddie lets out a long breath that he was holding in before going back to his food.

He finishes his plate while lost in a daze of thoughts. There’s no way you weren’t pregnant. Absolutely no way. He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, that’s for sure, but this is checking off every single box in his very limited knowledge of symptoms. 

He only withdrew from his head when he felt you staring at him yet again. You had pushed your plate back on the counter, head resting in the palms of your hands as you watched him intently with a particular glint of something in your eyes, something that he’s only seen two other times.

“Hi?” he says shyly, cheeks tingeing pink. 

“You kissed me on the cheek when you came in,” you state.

“Yeah, I did,” he nods, cheeks deepening to crimson under your close watch. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask, stretching your leg out under the counter, running your foot along his shin.

Eddie chokes on his food before looking at you with wide eyes. Elbow bent to cover his mouth as he clears his throat from his sputtering, his eyebrows raise high, hiding under his bangs as he works through your suggestion. 

“Like stay the night or just stay the night?” he asks, eyes burning into you out of shock. 

“I just kept thinking about before… and, you know…” you say, shrugging, hooking your foot around his calf.

“So like, stay the night?” he asks, eyes glimpsing down at your outstretched leg. 

With a sly smile, you nod your head making Eddie’s eyes grow even wider.

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Eddie takes a final bite of his food before pushing back in his chair. You excitedly stand, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to your room. 

Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do when you’re both still up in arms about being pregnant, but Eddie would be a fool to say no to you. He physically couldn’t, has never had it in him. It doesn’t help that he really likes you and might potentially love you. And after all, he’s just a simple man. 

────────────

“Harder.” 

Your desirous voice echoing off of wallpapered bedroom walls, airy moans embellishing every thrust, Eddie does his best to give you what you want. Round two and countless of your orgasms later, you’re still begging Eddie to keep going.

Round one was fantastic. Sincerely earth shattering and left him winded and full heartedly wishing he took up track in his freshman year instead of smoking cigarettes. 

The night started with you riding him, insisting that he laid back, and who was he to say no to that? He watched you intently, grasping at your hips with each rise and fall, feeling the way your body nearly trembled over his own as you made yourself feel better and better. He was completely enamoured by the way your mouth rounded into a perfect oval, the way your eyes welled as you rose up and down, enjoying yourself truly and utterly. Then, when he took over, you were begging, whimpering, and moaning for him. He swore he had never came that hard in his life. 

With the long day of worrying and his stress induced sleepless nights wearing on him, he was nearly nodding off when you were on him for round two. It was exciting— you needing him like this, and his cock was kicking up again before he could process it. 

You came again, adding another tally to the growing tab of how many times you’ve come tonight. This time, you were on your hands and knees, back in a deep arch as he watched the recoil of your ass with each of his thrusts. 

The only thing on his mind was you. How you felt so perfect around his cock, how pretty you sounded whining and begging for him to keep going, how beautiful you are, and how badly he just wanted to keep making you feel good, but then it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

He heard it once, how pregnant women would sometimes get really horny. Insatiably horny— and you just kept asking for more, begging for him to keep going. You were cumming and still managing to ask him to keep going. He had never had sex like this before.

His skin that had grown damp throughout the night, covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, now drew dry, just like his mouth. His thighs burned, his calves begged for a break, his balls were aching from staving off his own release, and now there was very little uncertainty in his mind that you weren’t pregnant. 

Mid thrust, you clench around him, stealing his already stolen breath, pulling from his meandering thoughts. He refocuses his gaze on the bounce and jiggle of your ass and the sweet noises singing from your lips before letting his palms slide down the slope of your arched back, giving himself better leverage to keep going. 

There's no doubt in his mind that he can finish this round. Not only would he feel like an asshole if he tapped out now, but he would also feel like the biggest idiot because this has been it for him. This is the orbiting thought in his mind, the exact scenario that he conjures up in his imagination during his alone time. 

Swallowing thickly and taking an open mouth breath, he moves a hand from your back to wrap around your torso, finding your clit with his finger tips. “One more. Gonna give you one more, pretty girl,” he rasps, voice horse and ragged from his near panting. Your back arches even deeper, hips pressing back into his as you let out a wavered moan. 

“Feels so good, Eddie. Love your cock, feels so good,” you cry, taking heavy, moaning breaths between words, your voice staggering with each of his thrusts that push you further up into the mattress. 

“Mhm, know you love it, baby. Sucking me right in, n' so wet for me," Eddie says through exasperated breaths, words coming out babbled from his focus on not cumming as your walls squeeze him harder and harder.

“Want you to cum inside me again,” you whimper out. Eddie doesn’t answer, he just thrusts harder, rolling his hips against your backside, making you moan louder and giving you the last of every ounce of energy he has left in him.

When he feels your pussy start to flutter, tensing, and pulsating around him again, he knows you're close.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathes, voice only getting lower and more ragged from the absolute marathon of a night.

“Gonna cum, Eddie.” Your voice rises so high in volume that Eddie's certain your neighbours can hear. 

“Cum for me baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock one last time tonight,” he grunts, starting to feel delusional with the way his head spins. He grips his free hand on your hip, pressing his fingers into your skin and grounding himself to you, trying to push away some of the daze to think clearly. 

Eddie feels your tightness pulling him in almost immediately. He holds off his own release for as long as he can, bringing you through your orgasm until he can’t take it anymore. He pulls out just in time for his own release, sending his cum spurting over your lower back as his chest practically explodes, burning lungs having all the air expelled from them in a wheeze as he stutters through his orgasm. 

After taking a few, long moments to catch his breath, he reaches for the same towel he used earlier, wiping you clean before falling to your side feeling absolutely exhausted.

“Wanted you to cum inside,” you say pitifully, cuddling closer to him.

“Can’t, you're not on birth control, we didn’t have a condom.”

“You did it before,” you pout. 

“Yeah.” Eddie says, exhaling deeply. 

Yeah and now he's 99.9% sure you’re pregnant. 

“It’s late, got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, eyes unwillingly fluttering closed as you push your way closer to him, pressing your bare chest to his, speckling gentle kisses along his neck.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pressing another kiss to his skin. He barely has the energy to respond and you deflate against him with a sigh.

“Baby,” he coos, frowning when he looks at your lower lip jetting out in a pout. As much as he’d love to keep going, he physically could not go for another round. His cock might let him despite it feeling nearly raw from all the friction, but his aching body definitely would not. “Let me just hold you, okay? We can cuddle,” he offers to try to fix your frown. It only works the slightest bit, relaxing the crinkle in between your brows.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold. You let out a quiet whine at first, clearly upset, but you eventually relax into him, melding to his side. It’s not long before Eddie’s out cold, completely wiped clean of energy. 

────────────

You woke up, ripping yourself from Eddie’s grasp, hand over your mouth, rushing for the bathroom again. Eddie follows behind you, barely alert, but at your side, rubbing your back.

When you were certain everything inside your stomach was gone, you sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub.

“Think I should take that test.” 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

────────────

With the anticipation of waiting another painstaking twenty minutes, you sit on the ledge of the tub in your bathroom, watching Eddie’s back as he tinkers with the test again. The tailbone pain from sitting on the ceramic edge is nothing compared to the swirling nausea growing from your nervousness.

He had sat with you for a few minutes like the last time, but got up halfway through to get you water. He dallyed in the kitchen for a few minutes, and it was far too casual for you, especially too casual for the dramatic dungeon master himself. It was almost unnerving. 

At the fifteen minute mark, he sat with you again, throwing an arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into him. If his casualness was him disguised his nervousness, he doesn’t let on. 

This time, at the twenty minute mark, his watch beeped the grating default Casio alarm, and with the chime of a button being pressed, he stands, turning his back to you as faces the vanity. You don’t follow him, you couldn’t at this point, you feel welded to the tub ledge. 

Unlike last time, he doesn’t look at the instructions. He doesn’t hum. He doesn’t make any noise, he just turns to you, his body blocking the test. You feel your heart rate pick up, but he doesn’t give anything away with facial expressions or body language. 

His mouth opens, he takes a breath, you hold yours once again. 

“Well…” he starts. “You were right.” His tone is flat and you blink, trying to clear your confusion.

“I was right?” 

“Yeah.” he shrugs. “About the last test being wrong.”

“No.” 

“Yup,” he affirms, putting a plosive pop at the end of the word. Too casual.

With your heart pounding in your chest, thumping miles in minutes, you couldn’t process this even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You deny it. 

“You’re lying,” you state, ending your words with a light huff of laughter. Surely, this is all a joke. Eddie’s a comedian, right? Ill-conceived jokes left and right over the last month, this has to be one of them.

He doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t light up. He doesn’t laugh. “Come look,” he says, beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. 

You sit up from the ledge of the tub, moving to stand next to Eddie at the counter. He pulls out the instructions, pointing to a diagram.

“If the liquid turns blue, that means pregnant."

You look at the test, not bothering to look where Eddie points. Blue liquid sits where any other colour should be.

“It’s blue,” you state.

“Pregnant.” 

Pregnant.

The moment is eerily still. In the movies this is where the happy couples jump with excitement. In TV shows, they call family and let them know their good news. In commercials, they celebrate. They hug, they smile, they cry happy tears together. 

Eddie’s your best friend, but you’re not a couple, this wasn’t planned. So you both stand in silence, staring at the positive test.

“What do we do?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“We could go get something to eat? I can call out and we can rent a movie or something?”

“Something to eat?” you laugh. It’s positive and he’s thinking about eating?

“Yeah, you should try to eat something,” he shrugs, turning to look at you. 

“Eddie. I’m—” Pregnant, you go to say but the word dies on your tongue. “Why are you not freaking out?” you say, staring at him with wide eyes trying to understand how he’s not affected at all by this. You’ve known Eddie a long time and he’s not exactly the calm and collected type. 

“Well…” he shrugs. “When you said that you thought the first one was wrong, I trusted you more than the test. Believe me, I’ve been freaking out, but now… it’s, kind of, settled in already, I guess.”

“Settled in?” you say, jaw dropping in shock. It’s your body, you were mostly certain you were pregnant— in denial at times, yes, but you knew, yet having it confirmed is still shell-shocking. How has it already ‘settled in’ for him?

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “If you want to keep it, I’m happy. If not, I’ll support you.”

“Happy?” you say, bewildered. 

“Well… yeah. We’ve... we've been friends forever. A kid that’s part you and part me? That’s fucking awesome, how could I not be happy, y’know?” he says, moving backwards to sit on the ledge of the tub. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, watching you with eyes that are too calm. Too, too, too calm about this. 

In your quiet mental chaos, you take a final look at the blue liquid before moving to sit next to him. Your skin prickles with cold shivers but you feel hot all over, like there's a flame of nerves in your belly and a hot air balloon in your chest making each breath feel laboured. 

“I’m…” you stumble over your words. “I— pregnancy is so— Eddie,” you breathe out. Your eyes inevitably start to water.  

“Pregnancy is so Eddie?” he laughs before turning towards you, noticing your eyes turning glossy. His face drops immediately, features turning soft as his brows turning up in concern. “Hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, remember? Everything will be fine,” he assures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again, bringing you closer to him in a hug. 

“I know, I just—” you force a breath in your lungs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You can cry, it's okay,” he says quietly, and unfortunately, each of his nearly-whistled, whispered consonants pulls out a wave of fresh tears from you. His hand rubs over your shoulder and your cheeks only grow damper. “It’s okay to cry,” he repeats and you press your face to the cotton of his shirt. He pulls you in tighter, rubbing your back in long, steady strokes. 

Eddie’s seen you cry more than a handful of times— more than several handfuls of times, but this is substantial— it just feels different. Different because you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby. A baby with Eddie. Your best friend Eddie. Eddie, who you’ve had sex with three times. Eddie, who you’ve known forever, who you’ve spent day after day with, as a friend. Friends. You’re pregnant. Holy shit. 

Your mind races and you divert your thoughts before you stray down that road. “It’s gonna be half you and half me,” you say, mostly to yourself, repeating his earlier sentiment. 

“Half you, half me,” he echoes. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and yeah, this is different— different because Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the top of your head. He doesn’t give you kisses on the cheek either. Eddie’s given you noogies, he’s butted foreheads with you, even flicked you on numerous occasions, all particularly during your shared middle school years, but kisses? Kisses are unheard off. What you guys have been doing lately is unheard of. 

“We had sex and now we’re having a baby,” you state plainly, trying to bring any coherency to the situation, desperately needed to hear the unheard of.

“We did and now we are,” Eddie laughs. 

“You came inside me and now there’s a baby in there,” you continue, hearing every syllable of your own voice.

“That’s—” Eddie laughs quietly again. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” 

“I had morning sickness.”

“Yes you did. And mood swings.”

Pause.

“No I didn’t!” you gasp, pulling back from Eddie to look at him with a scowl. 

“You kind of did,” he smiles, dimples set deep in his grin.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You were also insatiably horny. I was getting leg cramps all night because of you,” he says, bopping your nose, making you scrunch it. Asshole.

“I was not ‘insatiably horny,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, if you wanted to have sex again, I could cum in you now, ‘cause you can’t get any more pregnant than you already are,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, purposefully batting his lashes, playing up a faux coyness just to get a rise out of you. Such an asshole.

You respond by hitting him in the stomach, followed by pushing him until he almost falls into the tub, grabbing onto the shower curtain to stop himself. 

“Hey— hey, you were the one asking for it!” he defends, corners of his lips turned up in an untimely smirk. 

“I’m never having sex again,” you shriek, burying your face in your hands. 

“Well, let’s not make drastic choices right now,” he says amusedly, bringing you back in for a hug.

“I’m serious. Never again. Not with you, not with anybody. Ever.” 

“Let’s just get some fresh air, maybe we’ll start thinking straight about this,” he laughs, pulling you to stand up and guiding you out of the bathroom.

Pregnant.

tags: @princesatracionera @venuslayla23-blog @mastermindmiko @tlclick73 @yujyujj @josephquinnsfreckles @uselessnewt @animechick555 @prestinalove @sluggzillaa @daisyridleyss (if you want to be tagged for the next part I kindly ask that you please reblog!)

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The Monster That Lurked

Alastor x GN!Reader

A/N:Hey hey! I'm in a really angsty mood and decided to write a full fledged fic about my own work of ‘Monster In The Woods’!!! YAY!!! ALSO A FRIENDS TO LOVERS DEAL- SUE ME. Also you can picture Human Alastor or Alastor anyway you want cause I don’t really describe him much except for what he is wearing and I picture Alastor a certain way in my head. This got long I apologize.

TW: Set in the 1920-30’s, Human Alastor and his murders. Pre-established relationships, cheating, Alastor “stealing” you away from your husband.Alastor and Reader have known each other for a long time already. Reader is also some sort of fucked up, in like the murder way. Talks about cheating, fighting, Gore, Christianity and religion in general. MURDER VERY MUCH MURDER

Word Count: 7k

1927, the days filled with laughter and partying whilst listening to jazz standing with your husband..well you were waiting outside a sleazy bar for your husband, the same drunkard that your father had married you off to. He wasn’t your first choice neither was he your last choice. You would’ve been fine not marrying anybody and just living your life hidden from prying eyes, you would rather be somewhere in the Louisiana bayou with Alastor. Just sitting and listening to him ramble on about a new show he was talking about or how some poor lad got on his bad side. 

But yet you were standing on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy bar with even sleazier patrons as you stared at your husband through one of the windows as he hit on the same poor dame that served him. He cheated all the time and yet you never cared, was it because you never truly loved him or was it the fact you’d rather picture his own death while he begged god for his sins. You couldn’t tell anymore and a part of you didn’t want to know anymore. The other part of you wanted to delve deeper into your own thoughts, wanted to open the door that was locked and barricaded for your own good. You wanted to understand what it felt like to rip flesh from bone and see how long it would take for him to lose consciousness from the blood loss.

A loud honk from a passing car made you jump out of your skin and look around, feeling the small box in your pocket, it was supposed to be for your husband but he didn’t deserve it, he would’ve just sold it eagerly for some kind of money to waste his life away. That’s fine you knew a man who would appreciate it more than him anyway. The same man whose voice was happily broadcasted on every radio for miles around, you could practically hear his smile through the radio static and fuzz. Your heartbeat a little faster than it should’ve just thinking about him, he was your friend and that was it. Friends don’t have crushes on friends. This was just a way to spoil him for being a good friend of yours. Right?

You couldn’t bother him right now, you knew better so you did what you always did. Went back home and made yourself busy until he eventually made his way over to your house. He was always quick enough to get to your house before your drunken husband did but stayed around long enough (i.e in the early hours of the morning) so you wouldn’t have to deal with anything unnecessary and you eventually went to bed. Then he would’ve disappeared for a few days but he came back around. You didn’t question him or his ways, you knew better. A part of you did want to question his motives but you held your tongue like you always did.

Your husband wasn’t a necessarily violent man..just dumb and constantly drinking, said some nasty words too. If it wasn’t for you, Alastor would’ve probably done him in by now. Especially when he was talking bad about his Mother, you saw the way Alastor stared at your husband. The same angry look you gave him when he had gotten on your last nerve. But before Alastor could get to him, some other patron did. Knocked your husband’s nose sideways and a tooth completely out. Bastard deserved it completely and till this day you don’t visit that place. You needed a fucking drink thinking about your husband but the bastard drunk your house completely dry.

A knock on your front door snapped you out of your thoughts and as you turned towards your front door, the man of the hour had walked through your door. A huge grin plastered on his face, one hand holding a bottle of whiskey and in the other today's paper. “Ah ha! There you are, My Dear!” He called out his suit absolutely spotless. A smile formed on your lips as you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, waving him towards one of the only rooms your husband doesn’t enter. “You had me worrying there for a moment,” He said tilting his head back towards you as he led you to the parlor room, “Maybe that husband of yours was back from wherever he was lurking.” He finished his smile falling into a snarl, Alastor was also not a huge fan of your husband from the start. You never asked why as you both didn’t want to think of him during your little time together.

“Please..you know better than I do that he’s hitting up on a poor dame at the bar.” You replied, sitting the glasses down on the table causing him to make a noise in acknowledgement, “At this point, Alastor..I’m believing you're a mind reader with how you just appear with whiskey in hand at my front door.” At that? He let out a loud belly laugh leaning in closer to you allowing his gaze to soften as he stared at your features before he leaned away opening the bottle of whiskey. This was going to be a long night for the both of you and you had forgotten all about the gift.

~~~

A couple weeks had passed since you last saw Alastor in person but you didn’t fret, he had called the next day to tell you he had made it back home safely. Something he had picked up ever since you had asked him to stay the night so long ago, you were-..are still scared of your own thoughts. The ones that dare creep out, the ones who tell you to crack open your husband’s chest and rip out his still beating heart. The ones who you don’t dare tell a soul and you sure as hell won’t tell Alastor, he’d think you're insane. But you knew..you were slowly losing yourself and everyday it was one step closer to killing your husband.

Walking into the kitchen and rolling your eyes seeing your husband looking like hell, “Hungover John?” You hissed out as you moved past him a grunt falling from his lips in reply, “Shut the fuck up..” He hissed out speech still slurred as half assed venom dripped from his tongue. “I wasn’t the one up at 1 in the morning drinking with that no good radio host.” You froze your hand twitching towards the knife on the counter but stopped yourself, “I wasn’t the one who was at the bar drinking his sorrows away whilst trying to bed another dame for the twentieth time this week.” You hissed back, sending a glare towards him. 

John stood up fully and walked towards you getting into your face, hand raising to no doubt strike you. But nothing came as someone cleared their voice, an icy cold tone to it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Friend.” Alastor..fuck you forgot about him and his way of just walking into your house. You had drunkenly given him a key one night, ‘Just in case’ you told him. You were glad that you did because as soon as he heard Alastor’s cold voice he immediately backed up and stormed off deeper into the house.

Alastor’s cold gaze had followed the poor idiotic man as he disappeared into the home before they snapped back onto you. “Are you alright?” He asked the venom and anger laced in his voice gone but you saw how his eyes still held his anger, like they did when that fool had talked bad about his Mother. You often had envy and wished that you could know a mother’s gentle hand guiding you towards a better life. But criminals only give birth to criminals, your mother had left the Earth so long ago you don’t even remember what she looked like anymore but sometimes when you look into a crowd you see a familiar figure and a part of you becomes elated before it crashes and burns into the ground. 

“I’m fine, Alastor.” You replied softly as you glanced down the hallway where your husband stormed off. Alastor sat silent watching your face keep still but the sadness in your eyes was apparent, he knew you yearned for freedom and solace. He knew how you would rather be a thousand miles away from your “husband”- God he hated that word and man, if he could’ve he would’ve killed him a long time ago. Walking over he softly hummed, “Let me take you out on the town, Dear…a way to get your head cleared.” He whispered, reaching over and carefully placing his hand on your shoulder. He watched your eyes once almost so lifeless and dull flicker to life at the thought, “All day?” You asked, glancing at him, the warmness in your eyes returning, a small smile forming on your lips. Hook…line…and sinker, he’s got you right where he wants you, perfectly safe in his hands.

“Of course, Dear! Now go on, go get dressed!” he hummed his smile, returning as he guided you to go down to your own bedroom which was supposed to be the guest bedroom. You never explained why you had moved bedrooms but he didn’t need to guess or ask. It was abundantly clear to anyone who had stepped foot in your household, this “marriage” wasn’t full of love. It was only necessary and after the first year of it, you had grown cold. That man had taken away any semblance of your hope and happiness for a better life. Alastor hummed a tune that played from his radio broadcasts as he looked around your home, he’s seen the decor and fake photos that hung up on the wall a million times but yet it never gets old. Especially when he’s staring at the photo of you on your wedding day, the way the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “What are you still doing here?” A slurred voice asked, causing him to calmly look over. His smile grew wider at the sight of the boy in front of him. That wasn’t a man..far from it. “Good to see you at least a little sober, Jonathan.” He hummed, dodging the question thrown his way. 

“Shut the fuck up, Alastor.” John threw back, moving closer as Alastor’s eyes darkened. Just a little closer..and then he’d be gone for good. “John!” You yelled out making the man flinch and Alastor’s heart raced, oh how he loved hearing that venom lace your tongue; it was always a delight to see how commanding you were when you wanted to be. When Alastor first met you, you were quiet yet happy and you hadn’t been married to this fool. Such a lovely little mouse minding your own business when you had accidentally bumped into him. He wouldn’t believe anyone if they said meeting you would change his life. You had spilled wine on his suit, yet you didn’t freak out when you saw his eyes flicker angrily. Only apologized and paid for his new suit with the money you had been saving up to leave for good, he wouldn’t find that out until a year later.

John looked over at you with anger but soon he once again stormed out of the house cursing you and Alastor. Alastor looked over at you with a gentle smile returning to his lips as he guided you to the front door. “Come now~ Let’s paint the town red, Dear” He called out laughing at his own little joke making you roll your eyes at his antics. Silly man.

~~~

Hours happily passed by and the day turned into night from swinging into tailors and from jazz clubs to socialite parties so you both could secretly judge people between hushed breaths, he eventually led you down to a park that was lit up with lampposts every so often before sitting down on a park bench under the moonlights soft glow. Your laughter had died down into a comfortable silence as you glanced over at Alastor. His leg crossed the other one, “I haven’t seen someone so eager to play the fool in one of those parties.” He laughed out, tapping his thumb on his knee, “Something on my face, Darling?” You jumped and looked away, “No no..sorry I..I’ve been lost in my own thoughts recently, Alastor.” 

He looked over at you, you were unusually silent the whole night. “Can I tell you something?” You asked, watching as you finally looked over, oh he could never get used to those eyes of yours and that darling little smile was everything to him. “Of course, Darling.” He reached over and carefully plucked a stray leaf from your shoulder, his attention fully on you. You looked down, hands trembling..you had to tell him, you could tell him right? “Nevermind it, you’d think I’d gone insane.” You corrected and cleared your throat leaning back into the cooled bench. You felt uncomfortably hot despite the cold air, winter was right around the corner.

Using his hand to rub at his chin as he hummed your favorite tune he played on air, this piqued his curiosity much more than he’d like to admit. “I’d never think such a thing, my friend!” He replied throwing his hand up in the air as if to actually try and swat those thoughts away from your mind. “Tell me whenever you feel ready to do so, my Dear!~” He was always willing to listen to you even if it was about nothing, your voice was practically music to his ears. Closing his eyes as a cold breeze hit his face as he continued to hum along to fill the silent night, he suspected it was your..’husband’..the cause of all your misery. The way your honeyed voice was now constantly laced with venom and authority as if you had to fight to even allow your voice to be heard. Your silence had felt like an eternity for him but he knew it had only been a moment or two, he didn’t realize how addicted to your voice he had become.

“I..I’ve been having thoughts.” You started making him look over at you, his eyes narrowing in concern at your form, how small you had looked at the moment. He had leaned forward and took his jacket off before draping it over your figure not minding how the cold nipped at his skin but he didn’t interrupt you, he knew better to do so. “Angry thoughts..well they started out that way but now they’ve turned into something more..violent.” You explained carefully pulling his jacket closer to your frame, eyes casted off in the woods. You imagine some man standing there, blood covering his hands and drenching his shirt, a wicked smile on his face as he looked up into the night sky and laughed out loud for god to hear him. 

Alastor followed your gaze as his humming slowed down until it completely stopped to allow the silence to fill the air, his smile pulling into a more sinister one at how he finally understood. The same one that happened to find its way on his lips after killing his latest victim, he quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth allowing the smile to drop before you could catch a glimpse of it. “I think of what it would feel like to rip flesh from bone..to finally choke him out..I want to know what it feels like to snub out a life..his life. I’m not a violent person and these thoughts terrify me, I try to keep them hidden but…sometimes they slip out.” You finish up finally noticing how tight your throat felt and the tears falling down your face. It felt great to finally get that off your chest but now the anxiety of it all set in, would he rat you out to the police? Would he hate you?

“I don’t remember when they started. Was it when I was forced to get married to him? I’d tell myself I can save enough money and start somewhere new..but then I’d miss you..miss your early morning show and our late night talks.” You confessed spilling your problems out onto the sidewalk like a drunkard when he had spilled his guts on the pavement. You were pathetic in your own way. Alastor watched you for a few moments before carefully pulling you into his side, using a handkerchief tucked into his vest pocket to carefully wipe your tears away. “No more tears, dear friend.” he whispered, allowing you to hide your face into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist. 

He was at a crossroad in his own mind, should he tell you not to go with it? He wouldn’t want you to go into this dirty mess. But he also wants you to feel the rush of adrenaline when snubbing out a life, he wants to help. But either way if you did or didn’t he’d take care of it..in some way or another. No one should hurt his little mouse in such a way and get away with it. It was silent for a long time as you calmed yourself and he held you with a softness that was foreign to himself and most others. 

“I always..I always imagined running away with you..to some old house down near the bayou.” You whispered out feeling the familiar chain that hung on his vest, the one hidden under his jacket. He leaned his head against yours and hummed in reply. It sounded picture perfect in his mind.

~~~

You sat at the church pew next to your ‘husband’ and kept your head down as you listened in on the priest doing his normal sermon. The only time your husband had decided to not be drunk and clean up for once in his life was always on Sundays or when his family was coming over. Something you always ran away from, you stayed in the empty parlor with a glass of water and a small book. His mother was never kind to you nor his sisters, you chose to ignore them and their gossip. Especially when you had to be seated around them in a church talking about a man who you possibly didn’t believe in but was instead forced to hear this priest talk about whatever was in the bible. Your hands clasped together as your mind kept drifting off. 

It had only been two days since you told everything to Alastor, your feelings and how you wished to murder your own husband. You haven’t been able to talk to Alastor since which was fine, he was a very busy man after all. Lifting your head up as you felt your husband nudge your leg with his own, you sent him a glance ignoring how he was practically glaring at you. “Don’t embarrass me infront of my family” He hissed out as you glared at the wall. “They already know how rocky our relationship is, John.” You hissed back, about to leave but someone sat next to you keeping his head down, “Sorry I’m late, Dear Friend.” Alastor whispered, making the anger dissipate in a matter of seconds, “Mother wanted to go see an old friend,” He hummed and got comfortable next to you.

After an hour or maybe it was a good 10 minutes you couldn’t tell but Alastor had successfully dragged you away and out of the church under the guise of it being important and he couldn’t dare interrupt the sermon. You didn’t care now as you laughed at some joke that was pointed towards your husband, walking down the street arm in arm as he used his other hand to dramatically explain everything that’s happened between the hours you both had parted. The crying and confession long gone in your mind as you pointed out the flaws in his story but he had only reached over and pinched your nose between his fingers with only a half hearted threat of keeping his ‘secrets’. 

As you both walked down the street the laughter and conversation lulled into a peaceful silence. “Where are you taking me?” You asked, feeling a familiar presence in your pocket, the gift you had forgotten about for weeks now. “Just for a walk through the park, Dear.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a smile had formed on your face but your eyes still had that faraway look in them. Guess you were going back into your own head again, “I got you something a while ago and forgot it in my jacket” you called out reaching into your jacket and pulling the small box out, you didn’t want to bring up the fact it was supposed to be a gift for your husband. Alastor abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked at you, “You didn’t need to do such a thing, Dear.” You only smiled at him and gave him the box, “I know..but I wanted to give it to you.” You whispered out watching as he opened the box, his eyes widening. It was one of the newer pocket watches that you’ve had your eyes on for a long while now, “Dearest I..I couldn’t take this.” He replied carefully, taking the watch out, flipping it open and smiling. “But you can..and you will cause it’s for you, Al..”

You loved seeing him smile like that, something that you had rarely seen when you first started hanging out. It’s still mostly rare, especially when he’s had a hard day or the simple fact that you sometimes don’t see him for days on end. He put the pocket watch back into the box carefully, “Guess I’ll have to find to pay you back now?” He hummed out placing the box into his pocket causing you to sigh, “You know you don’t have to do such a thing, Alastor. I..I don’t deserve it.” Only criminals give birth to criminals and criminals don’t get nice things. 

“Oh but I think you do,” He replied and leaned down to gently tap your forehead, “Despite what those thoughts of yours tell you.” You blinked and stared at him, “You know me too well,” You huffed turning away from him. “Not well enough!” He called happily following after you and quickly catching up, long legged bastard. You looked up at him as he held out his arm, “Are you sure about that, Alastor? I think you know me better than most people.” You said carefully taking hold of his arm, he chuckled and quicked his step making you practically had to speed walk to catch up with him.

The night truly didn’t stop until you were almost on the verge of passing out from laughter and how sleep creeped up on your shoulders. Alastor’s arm was snuggly wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as the sandman was practically calling your name. “Come on now, one foot up the step.” He whispered as he guided your sleepy self up onto your own porch. “I can walk fine, Alastor. I’m not drunk,” You whispered, shaking your head trying to fight off how your eyes grew heavier. You don’t like being up past a certain time in the early mornings but for Alastor you would’ve done it a million times over….Maybe you did have a crush on him but he wouldn’t love you back in a million years. 

You don’t remember when you got into your bedroom, did you black out on him? Yet he was still holding you against his chest as he swayed you to an imaginary rhythm. “And here I thought you had fallen asleep on me already.” He whispered out, causing you to jump out of your skin for a second before you huffed, “Sorry, didn’t mean to do so.” You replied leaning back to try and smooth out his shirt, now noticing his jacket was draped near the door of your bedroom. “Nonsense, I find it comforting in a way that you trust me to fall asleep near me.” He replied watching you, his bow tie had been undone for a couple hours now but watching the way you had subconsciously fixed it for him made his heart race and butterflies erupt in his stomach.

His mind wandered off watching as you blinked the sleep from your eyes to make sure he still looked presentable. He wondered sometimes what it would be like if he married you instead of that idiotic man. “..Don’t leave for too long this time, Al..I know I’ll eventually hear your voice on the radio but sometimes it’s not the same..” You whispered out glancing back up at him, his gloved hand reaching up to cup your face tracing the bags under your eyes with his thumb, “I’ll try, Cher..” He replied as he leaned down to press his head against yours. He couldn’t promise it but he’d try especially since he has been working so hard on his plan to get rid of that idiotic husband of yours.

You leaned your head up, allowing for your noses to brush against one another. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, one of his hands splayed on the middle of your back. Then it had hit you, all those times he had pulled you away from your husband and took you to the places you loved..was he silently courting you? Had he been doing so for days now and you were just too stupid to notice? You gently cupped his face and watched as he had opened his eyes, when did he close them? “I..Alastor? Have you been courting me?” Your voice was only above a whisper making him freeze in his tracks. He was silent for a long time before he nodded and sighed. “I have been yes,” He replied and you felt your face warm, seemingly all of the tiredness from before had dissipated. 

His gloved hands came up to carefully grasp onto yours as your thumb caressed his cheek, a faint scar that had healed overtime. You remembered when you saw the scar, yet you never asked, figuring he would’ve told you when he decided to do so. He had yet to say a word about it so it must’ve not been important. In the years that you had known him, you’ve grown to love him and to be wary of him all at the same time. He was a wild mutt waiting to sink his teeth into any fresh meat he could find, he wasn’t the one to be tamed or “domesticated” and you surely would never think to tie him down to a preconceived notion such as marriage or a family life. It took someone truly special to worm their way into his heart and that was a tough act, nonetheless, he had picked and prodded at the worst parts of you wanting to see how quick it took for you to finally snap at him, show your fangs and reveal your weak spots to him. He loved the game of it.

Yet here he was, the same wild animal that used to raise his hackles and bare its sharp teeth was essentially laying down and showing his belly to you. He’d disappear to find his fill and get those fangs bloodied before he’d make his way back to you. Maybe everyone who told you to stay away was right, he wasn’t a man to stick around but here you were inviting the man into your home day after day because you just couldn’t get enough of him. 

Blinking your thoughts away you focused on Alastor, how he had leaned closer to you. “May I?” He whispered, ever the gentleman he was, his hands carefully squeezing yours as you nodded your head a small smile on your lips. Wordlessly, he closed the gap and gently kissed you. At first it was such a small kiss but you didn’t want it to end, you just got a taste of what it felt like to be loved..actually loved and it felt amazing, that one small kiss turned into a bigger one as his hands fell down to hold onto your sides.

You would be asleep until lunch the next day, the memory still fresh on your mind as you awoke to find a small gift box on your bedside table. You were going to kill Alastor.

~~~

You sat in an office, legs crossed as you watched the lawyer in front of you collect some papers and give you a passing glance every so often. “Now, it’s to my knowledge you are looking to file for a divorce?” The man asked, causing you to nod, “Now is there a reason for this divorce?” You huffed, how many times did you have to explain it? “Infidelity, I’ve caught him one too many times and I’d rather make this quick.” You huffed out venom lacing your tongue as you watched the older gentleman nod and produced some papers. 

After an hour of signing papers and making everything on record you had finally gone home. You didn’t even greet your husband when you walked inside, just placed the papers on the table and left for the day ignoring how he yelled out for you. You had walked all the way to the park, the same park Alastor had walked you to all those weeks ago and you spilled your darkest secrets out into the open. Sitting on the same bench as you watched people pass by as your eyes drifted to the woods, you also knew Alastor was an avid hunter and you’d be alone for a while longer as deer season came around. You’d be alone with your husband and your thoughts. You hoped this divorce would go through but it was a slim chance and then you would rightfully be kicked out of church for thinking of doing such a thing. Laughter rang in your ears as you got lost in your own world, your eyes glued onto the Doe walking out of the collection of trees to find something to eat on.

As the doe finally found something to snack on it had turned its head up and towards you. A small part of you felt a twinge of dread as you stared at the doe and the other part felt calm as the feeling started to grow and settle into the pit of your stomach, your breathing slowed down considerably before the doe had run off seemingly spooked away. You frowned and watched as it disappeared further into the woods. Gloved hands clamped down onto your shoulders making you jump up in surprise and let out a loud scream as Alastor’s laugh was heard from behind you.

 You turned on your heel ignoring the passerby who looked on in confusion, “I’m going to kill you, Alastor.” You hissed out trying to hide the prominent blush on your features and how your lips creeped up into a smile. He smirked, he knew you didn’t actually mean you would kill him. Your version of ‘kill’ meant you would simply get him back later in some kind of fashion. You were a smart person after all. “I’m sorry, Dear! You were so out of sorts you looked primed for me to scare you.” He hummed and moved to sit down on the bench, his hand patting the spot next to him. You let out a loud sigh sitting next to him, “What’s on your mind?” He hummed out fixing his gloves before moving to brush imaginary dust off his pants. 

You were silent for some time trying to figure out the words in your head, “I gave John divorce papers today.” you whispered out causing him to look over trying to hide the growing smile on his face, you still haven’t brought up the kiss you both shared the night before and you were scared to do so. “Really?” He hummed, leaning back against the bench using one hand to tap a melody on his knee, “I’m just waiting for him to sign it and see if the court will..allow the divorce to happen.” He didn’t answer and looked ahead as the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Your mind raced as another cold breeze hit you in the face, what would you do if the court denied the divorce? Would Alastor still..be by your side? The thoughts raced and raced but before you could delve deeper, a warm inviting hand was placed onto your shoulder causing you to look over at him confused but leaned into the warmth.

“It’s going to be okay, Dear. Don’t let those thoughts run you ragged now.” You nodded at his words and smiled, “Figured you’d be out hunting by now.” That made him let out a small laugh as his smile grew wider and went off on a tangent about hunting and how to actually be a good hunter.

You’d be fine.

~~~

You’d be fine.

Those were the words echoing in your head as you were now standing in your kitchen hands on the counter as you stared down at the broken glass cup as you heard your husband yell at you. The amber liquid is now spilling onto the wooden floor, your cheek burned like hell and you tasted the iron in your mouth as you unclench your jaw allowing your teeth to free themselves from your tongue. You stormed over to the phone and used the rotary dial to call a familiar number that you had stuck in the back of your mind. Alastor. You don’t remember the start of the conversation. All you could mumble between the stinging pain and blood in your mouth was, “Come over..It’s an emergency.” Before hanging up abruptly.

The next few moments were quick in your mind but you knew it took far much longer to do as your hands trembled. Grabbing whatever heavy metal object you could find in the vicinity, as your husband turned to face you once more. The fear in the man’s eyes as you swung and hit him in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, his hands moving to cover his nose as he stared up into your empty anger filled eyes, god..it felt good to see him as nothing but a pathetic ant beneath your feet. It felt invigorating as you dropped to your knees one hand holding him down as you continuously bashed the item into his face until he was nothing more than a lifeless body surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

You stared down at him and then the blood covering your hands as tears formed into your eyes and a sob bubbled up from your throat but you weren’t sad. Far from it..you were relieved as you looked up at the ceiling falling flat on your ass as you started to laugh between horrid sobs. Your hands grasping at your shirt laughing louder until your cheeks hurt from how long you were smiling and as Alastor finally came into your vision. The smile faltered for a moment as another loud sob wracked your body, “I did it, Al..I did it-” You choked out as you curled into yourself. “It felt so fucking good..I felt fucking invincible.” You hissed out blood dripping from your mouth and onto the floor. “Oh god- I finally fucking did it.”

Alastor walked over calmly and quietly, his hands clasping on your shoulders. His suit was long gone as when you called him he was in the middle of getting ready to go out ‘hunting’ but when he heard your desperation, he rushed over immediately. “You did and I’m so proud of you, Dearest..but go get cleaned up and I’ll deal with the mess, yes?” He whispered into your ear as you let out another sob allowing him to help you stand up on your two feet. As he helped you to your own bathroom and got you fresh clothes, he went back to the freshly dead body in your kitchen and smirked. “Got what you had comin’ old boy.” He hissed out before starting to get to work cleaning up the mess.

It didn’t take him long to clean up but now he had to find a way to actually get rid of the body. In your backyard? No, that's too suspicious..in the woods? Maybe but he doesn’t want you to have another breakdown. But he would have to wait until night time so right now? He’s going to have to play the part just in case people start to suspect something. He looked around and draped a blanket over the body before dragging it towards an empty room.

When he had walked back to the kitchen, he had watched as you were carefully cleaning up the shards of glass. Walking over he had finally noticed the blooming bruise on your cheek causing a part of him to be angry. “He hit you?” He whispered out helping you stand up, “Yeah..after we got home after the court denied the appeal..said I embarrassed him and broke a cup over my head before slapping me.” You whispered your speech slurred from your swollen tongue making you flinch, “What do I do now?” You whispered out, allowing him to gently grab your chin, “I don’t know what to do, Al..” His eyes softened and he sighed, “Sit down and I’ll cook something for you, Dear. We are gonna have to wait till nightfall.” He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss upon your head.

Later that night, he had helped you bury your ex husband deep in the forest, he mostly did all the dirty work but he did explain how to hide a body. 

~~~

It was now 1931, four years after you had killed your ex husband and a year after the economy collapsed. You and Alastor had moved in with one another and while not officially married by the courts you both loved one another and acted as such. Wearing a wedding ring on your finger told everyone you were either remarried or you still loved your poor ex husband that was murdered in cold blood by the rampant serial killer that was on the loose. Which would be far from the truth.

His family blamed you for his murder, calling you every name in the book and berating you for ‘kicking him out of the house’ which also wasn’t the truth. Yet another lie your ex had spun to keep his pride intact, you didn’t care in all honesty. The man was gone now..killed by your hands.

But here you were walking down the dark streets of New Orleans to get back home to your loving Beau, you had heard through the grapevine he was having a rough day and hoped to cheer him up that night but as you continued to walk down the street you realized that you were being followed. But maybe not maybe it was just your paranoia, but still you felt like a waiting duck, taking a turn down an alleyway and then another hoping to lose the trail of whoever was following you. 

It wasn’t until you had gotten to a familiar part of town out near the bayou that you felt relatively calmer but then that was stomped on when you heard a yell from behind. You looked back thinking it was one of the friendly neighbors but it wasn't. It was the man from before the same one who was following you. You dropped the book you were holding and broke out into a sprint down towards where your house was, trying your best to dodge anything that could hurt you. Then a loud shot rang out and it sounded like thunder causing your body to freeze up for a second. But you continued to keep running, you just needed to get home..you could see the smoke billowing from the chimney and the soft glow of the lights inside.

Your heartbeat was banging on your chest as you ran, you were almost there..you could see Alastor inside before a loud SNAP echoed through the silent air as you fell face first into the ground. 

You scrambled to get up sobbing as you looked back to see a trap digging into your leg, its sharp teeth scraping against bone as you sat up watching as the man got closer. “Fuck fuck-” you hissed out as you started to painfully get the jaws of the trap unstuck and scrambled off ignoring how your leg was burning. You yelled out for Alastor before another loud shot echoed through the air. The constant buzzing of the cicadas had gone silent as you fell to the ground gasping for air. Oh god it hurt, your hands moved to clutch your stomach as you looked up at the man, pistol in his hand pointed right between your eyes, “You killed my brother.” He hissed out his voice breaking as you teared up and begged him to let you go.

Tears cascaded down your face as he yelled, whispering some prayer that spilled past your lips and then the night went silent. As the gun had fallen down the hammer hit the ground first causing the gun to be set off, the bullet flying into the sky of the New Orleans Bayou. You trembled laying on the ground sobbing as you brought your hands up to see blood covering them the moonlight had casted down upon you as you sobbed out. There was movement before your head was lifted up and cradled into your Husband’s chest. His familiar cologne invades your senses in a comfortable way as he shakily tries to stop the bleeding. 

“It’s going to be okay, Cher..I’ll fix you right up.” he whispered into your hair as he pressed his hand onto your stomach. You were bleeding out too much as your breathing started to slow. No no it wasn’t supposed to end like this, tears raced down his cheeks as he pulled you closer as your hand weakly grasped around his sobbing out how you didn’t want to die. But he knew he couldn’t help you, he was far too late to properly help you and it was too far to get you to a doctor. “Sing me a song, Al?” You whispered out, “One last song?” he nodded and cleared his throat, watching as the light in your eyes slowly faded as he sung your favorite song.

He stayed like that for an extra hour, holding your lifeless body to his and singing all your favorite songs before he finally had the courage to find a place to bury you properly, making sure that when the sun rose the next morning it’s first rays it sent out over the bayou would hit your grave. You always did love watching the sun rise and listening to his broadcasts.

He would meet you again, he just knew it. He just didn’t know when.

[i-was-today-years-old-when]

i learned what is the most bizarre government in world history?

A bit strange that no one speaks of Italian city-states here.

I think they tried just every conceivable form of government. I will tell a bit about my dearest Florentine Republic.

In 13th century, Italian city-states witnessed an intense fight between pro-Emperor and pro-Pope factions. Most nobles were pro-Emperor. Florence was one of the places where they lost the battle, which led to the establishment of democracy.

Of course, this democracy was very different from what we call democracy today. Modern Western countries are representative democracies where people only vote in the elections and countries are governed by professional politicians. A medieval Italian would call such system aristocratic.

Of course, Florentine democracy was also exclusive. Wage labourers, people in debt and women were excluded. But all others could directly participate in government of their country: 5,000–8,000 people out of 25,000–50,000 adult citizens.

Political parties were forbidden (actually, the word party was invented as a slur, something that people do not remember now). Elections were seen as aristocratic mechanism because the rich and the educated would be capable to convince or bribe others to vote for them. So the main mechanism of democracy was casting lots.

Florence was subdivided into four quarters, sixteen neighborhoods and twenty-one corporations (seven major ones representing rich citizens and fourteen minor ones representing poor citizens): every citizen was a member of one of those. Initially, corporations had something to do with profession. Nobles renounced their nobility and joined corporations to be able to participate in the government. For instance, nobleman Dante Alighieri entered the corporation of Doctors and Apothecaries, and the ancestors of Niccolo Machiavelli registered in the corporation of Winemakers.

The main government body was Signoria. It consisted of eight Priors (two representing every quarter, six representing major corporations and two representing minor corporations) and one Gonfalonier of Justice, the chairman. They ruled the city during the period of two months only and then replaced by others. Signoria was the main legislative and executive authority. However, it could take major decisions only in common with other bodies such as Twelve Good Men (three persons from every quarter, mostly rich people) and Sixteen Gonfaloniers (one from every neighbourhood). These three bodies (Signoria, Twelve Good Men and Sixteen Gonfaloniers) were all chosen by lot: notes with their names were chosen from special leather bags preserved in the sacristy of the Santa Croce cathedral.

The laws were approved by the Council of the Commune (192 people, 48 from every quarter, majority rich) and the Council of the People (160 people, 10 from every neighbourhood, majority poor).

There was an enormous quantity of other governing bodies that regulated everything that needed to be regulated in the Republic, from quality checks of the bread to the licensing of the sex workers. In most cases, people served from three to six months. It meant that every full-fledged male citizen of the Florentine Republic could hope to be chosen for one of these positions.

The judicial and military power belonged to the podestà, a foreign citizen with good reputation, legal education and a military company or at least a group of armed servants. Florentines believed that a foreigner would be a more impartial judge in Florentine discussions. A podestà was invited to Florence for six months.

Finally, the Medici family managed to circumvent the system and become rulers of Florence but it took time. The system of checks and balances did work.

However, no one was able to circumvent the government system of Venetian Republic. Do you know why?

For more than five centuries (from 1268 to 1797) the procedure to elect the doge (chief of state) did not change.

Choose 30 members of the Great Council by lot.

These 30 people are reduced by lot to 9.

These 9 people choose 40 other people.

These 40 are reduced by lot to 12.

These 12 people choose 25 other people.

These 25 people are reduced by lot to 9.

These 9 people choose 45 other people.

These 45 people are reduced by lot to 11.

These 11 people choose 41 other people.

These 41 people elect the doge.

Funny that many Americans blame their electoral system for being complicated. You may think what you want about the Venetian system but it guaranteed what was probably the most stable government in the history of mankind.

By the way, despite the fact he was elected for life, the power of the chief of state in Venice was very much limited.

He could not appear in public without other officials present (security from populism). He could not meet foreign diplomats or open foreign dispatches without other officials present (security from collusion with foreign governments). He could not possess any property in a foreign land.

However, he had a nice place to live.

[princeblue]

I’ll never not mourn that we didn’t get the zenitsu arc that was set up, because I truly believe it would have done wonders for how the fandom views Zenitsu.

It makes me quite angry that he’s dumbed down to nothing more than a pervert and a coward, now. I wouldn’t even go as far to say Zenitsu is a pervert, a coward sure, he even says so himself. But a pervert is someone who purposely creeps on women, tries to feel them up, tries to be a peeping Tom.

Zenitsu does literally none of that, he’s a girl lover/chaser when we meet him, I’ll admit. But he in no way shape or form harasses a woman from the point on where Tanjirou rips him off the woman he’s begging to marry him. After that, he’s very kind to the women he meets, cringe sure, but still polite and respectful,and he’s extremely devoted to Nezuko. Even if she cannot reciprocate, and even then he’s not a fucking creep, he just has a puppy crush on a pretty girl.

So to compare him to someone like, let’s say mineta from MHA, is not only extreme but just plain wrong.

Back to Zenitsu’s cowardice, I think it’s actually pretty cool he’s a coward. We get to see him grow from it, we get to see him learn to be more confident with the support of Tanjirou and Inosuke behind him, the most noticeable moment of this is when he defends the girl that Daki is harming in anger, even if at this point he’s semi aware he’s found the uppermoon, he still steps in front of her and tells her off.

Even during the actual confrontation with Daki, he still tells her she’s wrong, and cruel. And tells her to apologize to the poor girl she hurt.

And Zenitsu is intimately aware of his own flaws, even going as far to say “I hate myself more than anyone else” and listing off that when he’s scared, he freezes or runs. But he also mentions that he’s hurt that Inosuke and Tanjirou just left him at the mountain, he says that if they had tried to coax him, he more than likely would have went. And this claim is 100% supported by the flashbacks we see with Jigoro Kuwajima who was the only character to never give up on Zenitsu and constantly push him to be better and stronger.

If Zenitsu truly wanted to leave the demon slayer corps, he would, now that he’s a full fledged demon slayer and out from under Jigoro’s thumb he had every single opportunity to leave the core and go pursue an actual life outside of it, and yet he doesn’t. Because he wants to make his gramps proud, because he wants to help Tanjirou, because he finds a support system/family with Inosuke and Tanjirou that he’s never had with even Jigoro and Kaigaku.

He’s insecure, he has anxiety, he has anger issues, he wants to honor his mentor and help and protect his friends, he wants to live a happy life, he wants to be respected, he wants to be genuinely loved. He’s so much fucking more than a “pervert” and a coward, but the fandom still sticks to this perception of him because we never got the Zenitsu backstory, I don’t like the term “there’s always a duo in a trio” but at times it really felt like Zenitsu was just kind of there, while Inosuke and Tanjioru continued to get more depth and he didn’t.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Woe, Bedrock Bros reincarnation AU be upon you! (And make it dark)

The Bedrock Kingdom's a weird one. Weird, in the fact that it never has to deal with a dispute over who sits on the throne. Weird because it never has to deal with the consequences of a weak-willed or greedy or bad leader.

Because, there is only one of two people on the throne: King Technoblade or King Theseus.

It’s a cycle. When King Technoblade ascends to the throne after the death of King Theseus, somewhere in Bedrock, King Theseus is born again. And a search is immediate to find the newborn prince. When he is found, he is brought to the palace and raised with love and affection until it is his turn to Ascend the throne after the death of King Technoblade. And then King Theseus starts the search for his heir/his friend/his brother/his father/his son.

Round and round the cycle goes. No one knows who was originally the older and who was originally the younger. Not even the Kings themselves. It took a few generations before they started writing things down that they wanted their Future incarnations to know.

Because the Kings don't remember their past lives.

The cycle begins anew when a Young Prince Theseus ascends to the throne. King Technoblade lived a long time this cycle, and King Theseus's prior incarnation had lived the longest of any recorded out of spite because someone said he couldn't.

So, the new King Theseus is young. An adult, but barely in his 20s. He's impulsive and a bit impatient and DESPERATE to get Techno back.

He reads through some of his predecessors’ notes and sees how it can sometimes take YEARS to find Techno and he is enraged by that concept. He is going to find Techno NOW. He will NOT be waiting years.

The search is begun and King Theseus spurs his subjects on to hurry or else and finally there is an infant put into King Theseus's arms and King Theseus beams with joy at finally having Technoblade back, ready to adore him and shower him with all of the love that King Theseus remembered getting growing up.

The baby is not Technoblade.

Techno grows up in some obscure village in the middle of nowhere. His parents have too many mouths to feed and when Techno is 12, he is kicked out to try and make a living on his own. Cruel, but also common in his poor town. Techno does what many from his home do in his situation.

He lies about his age and joins the army.

You can join the Bedrock Army at the age of sixteen. For two years, you are in training. Basically an apprenticeship. At 18, you are a full-fledged soldier. If you are REALLY good, you can even become a Knight.

Techno DEFINITELY doesn't look 16. He looks MAYBE a little older than 12, but that's just because of his height.

However, like I said, its COMMON for desperate kids to be kicked out. The Military is used to it.

They just check it off as all good and let Technoblade in.

And Technoblade is very very good at being a soldier. He picks up a sword and learns at record speed. Like he had done it a million times and just had to be reminded of the controls. His superiors LOVE him. His peers’ jealousy is erased because Techno is just so likable. He can be so quiet one moment and then the next say the funniest thing that has his whole platoon tearing up from laughter. He is well liked.

News from the capital shakes the entire foundation of the country when Techno is thirteen and soon to become an official soldier.

Prince Technoblade was a fake. The nobility tried to insert a false Technoblade in order to steal the crown from The Bedrock Bros. It was only found out because the young “prince” had begun to act off. When King Theseus had looked into it, he found the conspiracy.

No one dared ask what happened to the false prince, but the hangman’s noose was frayed from how many men and women were forced to their deaths.

A Search was called.

Techno's unit was tense. They were aware that many of the kids they let in would be in that age range, though they couldn't be sure how many because they HID their ages. They start taking a quiet audit of their child soldiers while also working as efficiently as possible to gather all of the 13 to 14 year old in their assigned section of the country.

When they start interrogating Techno about his age, he lies.

He says he's one year younger than he really is. His superiors slump in relief, grateful that they don't have to risk giving up their best soldier, the kid who will DEFINITELY become a knight and the pride of their home.

Techno is just grateful they bought it. He very much does NOT want to even be CONSIDERED to be a Prince. Sure, his parents may have named him after the Previous King, but that was COMMON. There were so many Technoblades and Theseus's running around the kingdom. It didn't mean anything.

However, the fact that the Military had to hastily “fire” a ton of soldiers means that they don't have enough to escort the kids to the capital AND protect their stations. So they have to be very efficient on where they place their manpower.

Techno is sent to herd the kids to the capital. He is…very not liking that. He will just stay in the back. Its fine. No one will know he's younger. He is tall enough that as long as they don’t make him take off his helmet, everything will be juuuuuussstttt fine.

They make him take off his helmet.

When they enter the palace, they are not allowed to cover their heads. Technoblade grimaces and bears with it and walks behind the other soldiers, herding the nervous teenagers into the palace. It takes forever. Each child is being examined by the King Himself, before being dismissed and given three gold coins for all the trouble. A pittance to nobility but a treasure to the working class. They go forward in a single file line, some shrinking under the cold blue eyes. Others marveling at the gleaming crown atop a mop of golden curls.

Some of the kids are waved through quickly. Others, the King pauses on before shaking his head. Even fewer get pulled aside and led further into the castle.

Technoblade's entire gaggle of teens is almost through when King Theseus orders them to stop. Techno glances up at King Theseus and sees the man staring at him with narrowed eyes.

King Theseus demands to know Techno's age and he says 16. The King stares at him. The whole room stares at him, really. King Theseus had talked to VERY few in this process.

The King smiles and its sharp and he begins to talk. It seems like pleasant conversation, at first, the King even cracking a silly joke or two. Acting younger than he looked. He then compares the situation to something that happened when Techno would have been young. Techno nods along like “Oh yes, of course I remember that”

King Theseus just smirks and says that there is no way he would remember, because he would have to be older than 16 to know it. Which means he's lying. How much is he lying? Technoblade kind of balks at that, not sure what to say. King Theseus asks again about Techno's age. Royal Knights, not just the soldiers he came with, start to close in on him. Techno can't help but reflexively put his hand on his sword as they approach. Before removing his hand when he sees the number of knights. He cringes before turning to King Theseus and telling him he turned fourteen three days prior.

King Theseus just grins and orders Techno to be taken with the others. Techno is embarrassed as he's led back through the palace.

He is stuck with a group of boys that all…look really similar to him. There are around six of them.

The Royal Knights demand that Techno take off his armor which Techno adamantly refuses to do. He is not going without armor in this place. It could be dangerous. They tell them that it is for the protection of the royal family that he cannot be so guarded. Techno snarks something at them about that, and the knight takes it personally.

Techno is now jumped by around eight royal knights determined to strip him out of his armor like an angry hermit crab. Techno fights and struggles and definitely breaks noses and fingers before the knights get a good hold and finally start peeling his armor off of him.

Cackling draws Techno's eye, even as he is pinned down and a swearing guard is pulling at the buckles keeping his armor on.

King Theseus arrives with a bright smile and too bright eyes. All of the teens in the room bow.

Except Techno, still pinned to the floor and trying to kick the guard attempting to take off his shinguards in the crotch.

King Theseus is certain that the teen struggling on the floor with a scowl is Technoblade. He is CERTAIN.

But he was certain before, as well.

His haste had cost him fourteen years with Technoblade. Time spent on a traitorous brat instead of the one who should have been by his side. He won't let his haste ruin things again.

He'll go by the book. As boring as that could be. It wasn't the first time there was a case of mistaken identity for one of the Royals. His predecessors had worked out contingencies for just that occasion.

King Theseus would have HIS Technoblade back.

Techno is given a nice room. Far nicer than the barracks he had lived in. But the way the nicely dressed boy was moaning, you would think they were locked in a jail. So what if they had to share a space? It wasn't THAT bad. Techno just claimed the bed that let him keep an eye on the door and mourned the fact that he was armorless. It SUCKED.

They are then all tested.

There are a bunch of tests, some that he isn't even sure if they ARE tests. The king is at every one. They are things like picking out clothes to wear, or organizing jewels to your preference. Technoblade finds it very boring and, honestly, he tries to fail. He picks out a boring outfit that is COMFY instead of finery. He organizes the jewels by taste, which is bullshit, they all taste like rocks, but he is annoyed that his intentional stupidity doesn't get him kicked out.

He enjoys the wolf dogs. That's pretty cool. Getting to go out and pet the very intimidating growly dogs was neat.

The kid that kicked one dog was IMMEDIATELY escorted out and away. It didn’t matter that the dog bit him hard enough to bleed.

Techno nearly gets out of having to take a different test because he was hidden under dozens of little wolf-dog puppy bodies. He will remember that hiding spot for future use.

There are a ton of tests. The ones trying to stay seem to try and recreate the reputation of the Blood God. King Theseus is known to be the kinder of the kings while King Technoblade has always been quick to anger and ruthless.

(This is bullshit. King Technoblade was the type to quickly mete out justice, but never hold a grudge. King Theseus is VENGEFUL. He burns down whole noble houses when he's mad. Sometimes literally. But most people don't realize that because he is so personable and extroverted.)

Techno doesn't understand why his chill personality doesn't get him kicked immediately when all of these other teenagers are doing their best to imitate rabid dogs.

Technoblade only once nearly gets eliminated.

King Theseus gave them free reign over the library and, out of all of the candidates, Techno was the only one uninterested. Didn't go inside even once. Completely ignored it.

King Theseus himself interrogates Techno on this. Because of nature vs nurture, some things are BOUND to change from lifetime to lifetime. But King Technoblade not being a total nerd about books?

Impossible. Never happened.

King Theseus is a little sad when he confronts Techno, ready to dismiss the kid with a heavy heart. It felt a bit wrong. But he would do what needed to be done. He wanted HIS Technoblade, not another fake.

The reason comes quickly.

Techno can't read.

King Theseus almost sighs in relief at that. He assigns Techno a teacher to learn. Techno is skeptical and takes this as a sign that he should lean into the books=bad mindset so he can go home.

Unfortunately, he finds that he very very VERY much likes books. He is found multiple times at dawn, bent over a book with his hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes. He ends up falling asleep during the other tests, much to King Theseus's annoyance and amusement. They end up having to lock the door to the library at night so Technoblade won't sneak out and hide in there.

It keeps going until there are only two left. Techno and the son of a very powerless noble. King Theseus asks them both a question during dinner, telling them to think about their answer for the night and tell him in the morning.

King Theseus asks them what should be done with an anarchist who wished to overthrow the monarchy.

Techno snorts at that while the other scowls at Techno. King Theseus ask Techno about his reaction.

Techno is VERY DONE with all of the tests and wants to leave. He wants to go back. And, even though it is probably a VERY stupid thing to say to a king, he tells King Theseus that at this point he would give the Anarchist a high-five and then go take a nap. Literally everyone in the room stares at Techno with varieties of horror and rage.

Except King Theseus who is cackling loudly. He dismisses both of them back to their room for the night.

The guards are kinda glaring at Techno for his comment, which Techno is glad for. Aha. He can finally leave! He's in the clear.

As soon as the door closes to the dormitory, the other boy stabs Techno in the back.

The noble boy’s family was told by more powerful families that if they could make King Theseus take their son, then they would bail them out of debt. But, if he wasn't chosen, then they should kill whichever boy was Actually Technoblade. Maybe, if they killed him before he could ascend, then the cycle would break and they could take control.

Which, in practice, WOULD break the cycle.

But Techno was a VERY good soldier.

Even with a knife sticking out of his back, he is able to overpower the other teen. The teen screams bloody murder, yelling for help. Guards flood the room and yank Techno off of the struggling teen. It hurts because thet pin Techno's arms behind his back, even with the knife still in place. The guards help the swearing noble off the floor, many glaring at Techno. Techno scowls back.

King Theseus comes in, scowling just as much and demands to know what happened. The noble kid smirks slightly, before he says he was just giving his answer to the question. What should be done with an anarchist who wished to destroy the royal family? Obviously, they should die.

King Theseus turns to Technoblade, still gripped by the guards and asks him if he has anything to say for himself. Techno glares. At the King. At the Noble. At the guards.

Techno responds that if a King has to stab someone in the back, he was too Weak to rule the country anyways. Might as well let it crumble. Noble kid just scoffs.

King Theseus nods for a moment before he grins, something sharp and cunning in his eye. He walks closer to Techno and Techno refuses to cower in front of the King, meeting his eye as if to dare him to do something.

Carefully, King Theseus wraps his arms around Technoblade and hugs him tight. The knife shifts and Technoblade can't help but gasp.

“Welcome home, Technoblade,” King Theseus would say, before ordering the guards to grab the noble and chop off his hand. He had stabbed the prince.

The kid begs for mercy as Technoblade is led out of the room, quickly down the hall with King Theseus's arm carefully over his shoulder. He is pushed into the Physician's office, who is very surprised to see a knife sticking out of a teen's back. Technoblade is made to lay down. He is given an anesthetic.

He tries to argue with King Theseus about him being the Prince, which is hard with the drugs. King Theseus is just giggling while playing with his hair. Techno makes noises of discontent whenever he is so far gone that he can't make words.

The King assures Techno that even if he finds the King annoying at first, he will learn to love him.

And then Techno spends way too much time trying to run, only for Tommy to find him wherever he hides. The King is Stream-sniping or something. I just have to get back to work so I can't keep fleshing it out. But yeah. King Theseus is going to be VERY possessive of Technoblade.

Anyways, sometimes you gotta make Tommy older. As a treat.

I'm so fucking obsessed with this one, Lenn, you don't understand, it's just dsqhqsdqdskjdssdqHsqkjsqqshqjskhqsksq. I kept needing to stop while reading it to flap my hands with happy stims.

The potential? Techno being so, so hostile and every little act of resistance he shows just makes Tommy coo over him like "aw, that's so Techno of you <3"

Tommy is going to be real obsessed with making up for lost time. Techno has suffered so much without him. He'll need to ascertain Techno has the best, most spoiled life from now on. Whether he wants to or not.

[thezombieprostitute]

Alpine

A/N: written for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date writing challenge. The prompts are - Dialogue: “Are you holding back? Don’t.” - Trope: Soulmate. Reader has no descriptors or gender indicators.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: Implied animal abuse/neglect and kidnapping of a pet.

Not everyone gets a soulmate. It’s generally accepted that your odds of having a soulmate and meeting them aren’t great. For it to happen, an animal has to welcome themselves into your life. Take care of that animal and they will lead you, at some point, to your soulmate. Neglect that animal and it will leave you and you’ll never meet your soulmate. 

Well, that’s how it was supposed to happen. Naturally people tried to find ways to force an animal into their lives. Or force them to stay in their lives despite neglectful or abusive care. Other times humans would try to get rid of any distractions their animal had, hoping to force them to focus on finding them their soulmate. 

Which explains the box that Bucky found in the dumpster. If it weren’t for his super-soldier hearing he likely wouldn’t have heard the tiny, weak mewls. He had no interest in a soulmate but he wasn’t about to live down to his reputation as a monster by not helping. He found a tiny, white kitten. His heart broke for the poor thing, eyes not even open and already experiencing the worst. He held the dirty, white, mewling bean to his chest, under his jacket, trying to get it warm, as he searched for an emergency vet.

The kitten stopped shaking while he was on the way to the vet but the mewling continued. He was guessing it was hungry, especially with how its paws were so gently kneading his skin. He sped into the vet’s office, praying they’d have something. 

The veterinarian took excellent care of the little bean. She talked to Bucky while she was cleaning, examining and then feeding the kitten. “She’s very lucky you found her, Mr. Barnes. She definitely wouldn’t have lasted much longer.” When the kitten had fallen asleep the veterinarian asked, “are you planning on keeping her? We have some possible homes for her but what few shelters have space may not have the fosters needed to keep her fed and cared for.”

Bucky’s heart nearly broke at the thought of this tiny, helpless kitten getting lost in a system that didn’t care about her. “I’ll take her,” he whispered.

“And what would you like to name her?”

“Alpine. Her name is Alpine.”

The veterinarian smiled and nodded before talking him through all of the care and food guidelines and answering his questions.

Bucky managed to get the time off he needed. His therapist enthusiastically signed off on his taking care of Alpine. She said it can be very good therapy to be a caretaker. She also made mention of soulmate potential but Bucky brushed that off. He just wanted this kitten to survive and thrive, not bring new people into his life. 

Besides, how could he love anyone else when this kitten had stolen his heart? Everything she did, from wiggling her ears whenever she ate, to every developmental goal she reached, endeared him more and more. The first time she opened her eyes Bucky was overjoyed and made sure to smile so it would be the first image of him she saw. He wasn’t sure that’s how it worked, but he didn’t want to take the risk.

By the time Alpine was 6 weeks old and crawling around on her own Bucky was happily admitting to being a full-fledged cat dad. He bought her all of the toys and cat trees she could ever need. The first time she was able to sneak attack him (he heard her preparing to pounce and kept still for her) he gave her a bunch of treats, calling her a “powerful lioness”. 

Mindful of the fact that he would eventually have to go back to work he made sure to help Alpine be okay with him being out. If she developed separation anxiety he’d never be able to leave her. He started out simple, leaving her in the apartment while he quickly went to the corner store. Her little mewls at the closed door broke his heart so he’d always pick her up a special treat to give her on his return. He even paid a little extra on his rent so he could install a small catio for her in one of the apartment windows. Stark gave him a small holograph to make it look like an A/C unit so no one would try to steal Alpine.

After his first away mission he decided to celebrate with Alpine, bringing her the super expensive cat food she adored and getting himself some pricey Chinese takeout from C. W.'s. He was surprised at how she ignored her food and begged for his. He’d ordered out plenty of times and she never showed an interest but she definitely wanted the chicken from his lo-mien. He gave her a few pieces and hoped he wasn’t setting a precedent.

It’d been over a year since he rescued Alpine and they had settled into a nice, well, maybe not “routine” but they definitely had their version of “normal”. It was nice and comfortable for Bucky and he loved every minute of it. What few people he let into his life commented on how much better he seemed to be. Less stressed, less mopey, quicker to smile; he even laughed at one of Sam’s jokes before trying to cover it with a cough. 

Someone brought up the idea of a cat harness so he could take Alpine out for walks, maybe meet his soulmate, but Bucky shut that idea down right away. His life was good. It was comfortable. Why ruin that by potentially bringing in someone new? Besides, Alpine was perfectly content to be an indoor cat. 

Or so he thought. He was being forced to take some time off, something about “preventing burnout” and he figured he could just take the opportunity to play with Alpine. She was getting really good at responding to some commands and he was hoping to get her some real enrichment by teaching her some cat acrobatics he’d seen online. 

But as soon as he walked in the door, Alpine tried to run out through his legs. If it weren’t for his superhuman reflexes she’d have gotten away. 

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He held Alpine by the nape of her neck as he closed the door. “You never go outside. At least you’ve never shown an interest before.”

He set her down and she immediately ran to her catio and started scratching at the windows. Bucky walked over to the window and looked out but couldn’t see anything that would get her interest. No birds, no pets in windows across the way, nothing.

“Alpine, are you okay? You’re going crazy over nothing.” Alpine eventually stopped and Bucky swears he heard her let out a small sigh. He tried to get her to play but she seemed disinterested in everything, even treats. “Well, this is a rough start to a vacation. Maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow, pretty girl.”

The next day did start out more like normal. Alpine was getting better at sneak attacks, especially around feeding time. Bucky was woken up by Alpine batting his face and running away several times as he grumbled, “I made a mistake when I started feeding you breakfast at 6 AM.”

After getting Alpine her food he saw to his own breakfast. He figured he’d start his vacation with a big breakfast, complete with some pancakes. Alpine climbed up to sit on his shoulder as he cooked, occasionally sitting on top of his head to watch him work. It was her favorite spot whenever he was home. Even when he wasn’t walking around, she enjoyed cuddling up close.

Around the time he finished breakfast he felt Alpine perk up and look around before running to her catio. She started scratching at the enclosure again, as if she were trying to break out. Bucky got up to look out the window and, again, saw nothing that might spark her interest. He shrugged his shoulders and started cleaning up his breakfast dishes when it hit him. 

“Alpine,” he asked, “is there someone out there that you’re trying to get to?” She stopped her clawing and looked at him with an earnestness usually reserved for hunting practice. “You…you want to go out to see someone?” She ran to the apartment door and started scratching at it while looking back at him with that same earnestness.

“No,” Bucky whispered. Alpine started meowing as she scratched at the door. “No,” Bucky repeated, more forcefully. “We’re not doing that. You’re not…you’re staying here where it’s safe. We’ve got a good thing, dammit.” Alpine didn’t relent. “Are you holding back? Don’t. Wear yourself out because you will not out-stubborn me on this!” Alpine responded with an indignant meow but Bucky went back to cleaning. 

The rest of the day proceeded without incident until the evening, around the time he’d come home last night, when Alpine again ran to the catio. Bucky refrained from looking out the window. Whoever it was that was getting Alpine all huffy was someone he wanted nothing to do with. No, his cat was not going to lead him to some promised soulmate. No, he was never going to meet a soulmate. He didn’t, couldn’t have one. He was keeping Alpine locked up for her own safety. Someone not as understanding of the lack of soulmates would definitely kidnap Alpine if she went out. He couldn’t let her be taken away. 

She ran to the door and kept meowing at him and giving him angry looks he’d never seen before. He genuinely felt bad but he had to look out for her. There were too many dangers and she barely survived the last time she was outside. True she was technically blind at the time, but it was still far too dangerous for his fluffy kitten. After a bit she finally gave up and seemed so despondent it broke his heart. 

“Tell you what,” he pleaded. “I’ll go get you some of that special cat food you love. Maybe even stop by C. W.’s and get that chicken lo-mien you won’t stop begging me for. Will that make it up to you?” Alpine huffed and sat in her tree, purposefully not looking at him. He quickly went out, making sure she didn’t follow him and brought back the promised food. She was feeling better enough to eat all the chicken from his meal and he hoped that meant she forgave him.

Sadly, the rest of his time off was spent in similar fashion. She was fine for all but two times during the day. It broke his heart every time but he didn’t relent. He was scared of her getting outside for so many reasons. He couldn’t risk letting her out. 

He was almost relieved when he was able to get back to work. He made sure to leave her extra food and it was only a one-day mission so he’d be back soon. Though he’d check the time to make sure he arrived after her evening begging to be let out. Maybe, just maybe, he’d look into a cat harness. Let her outside in small doses so she could see the dangers of going out. 

At least that was the plan. He got a phone call soon after arriving at the tower, the number indicating it was his building’s super.

“Barnes,” he greeted.

“Mr. Barnes, this is Mack, your building’s super.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“So, the apartment above yours was having some flooding problems and I needed to check if your apartment was getting any of the water. As soon as I opened the door your cat ran out. I tried to catch her, but she was way too fast for me.”

Bucky pulled the phone away and started cussing up a storm before telling Mack, “do what you need, I’m gonna come back and try to find her.” He hung up and told his team what happened. They asked if he wanted help finding her but he was worried they’d end up scaring her. He promised to ask for help if he couldn’t find her.

He started tracking just outside his apartment. He amped up his super-soldier senses as much as he could, trying to find any trace of her. A few hairs here and there led him to the elevator. Is Alpine that smart, he thought to himself. He took the elevator to the first floor and scoured for traces of her. 

He was so lost in focus he almost missed his phone ringing. It was an unknown number so he was tempted to let it go to voicemail but caught himself. It could be someone found Alpine. 

He answered the phone, “hello?”

“Um…hi,” you faltered. “Um, I’m so sorry to bother you but I found a cat with this number on their collar.”

“Alpine!”

“Yeah, that’s the name on the collar,” you affirm. “I hope you don’t mind, but she was begging for some of my chicken lo-mien and I did give her a few pieces because I didn’t know when she’d last eaten.”

“Are you at C.W.’s?”

“Yeah,” you hesitate. “How, um, how did you know?”

“The only time she ever begs for my food is when I order the chicken lo-mien from C.W.’s,” he assures. You cheerfully laugh at the information and for a second Bucky gets lost in how lovely your laugh sounds.

“Well, are you able to come and get her? I’ll make sure she stays here.”

“Thank you, so much! I’ll be right there!”

He nearly ran all the way to C.W.’s and was relieved to see Alpine with a patron at an outside table. He saw Alpine cuddled up against you, as you cooed and babied her, giving her some more of your chicken. She looked so comfortable with you and even nuzzled her head against yours.

“Alpine,” he exclaims as he gets nearer. You and Alpine both look his way and he almost freezes at your similar, wide-eyed expressions. “Alpine,” he repeats as he gets to your table. You hand Alpine over and he immediately grips her in a gentle but firm hug. He looks down at her, “don’t you ever do that again! You scared me! What were you thinking?” Alpine gives him those eyes she knows he can’t resist and gently licks his face. 

You coo at the image of this handsome, 6 foot plus tall, bulky, long-haired man holding a small cat. You’re tempted to take a picture but figure that would be rude. Instead you comment, “you two are so cute together!”

“Thank…thank you,” Bucky blushes. “Is there anything I can do to thank you?” 

“Nah,” you reply. “She was very good company.” There’s a beat of silence between you, like he wants to say something, but can’t. “I’ll just be on my way. It was very nice to meet you, Alpine.”

You get up to leave but Alpine immediately starts meowing at you. You and Bucky look at each other. You’re each aware of the soulmate implication in Alpine’s actions. He looks scared to say something but also scared to do nothing. You smile kindly at him, “um, look, um. I know this shows we’re…and if you’re not interested I’ll understand…but, you have my number, I have yours. If, and only if, you’re interested or want to even just start talking, you know how to reach me.” He nods and you turn to leave.

“Please,” he mumbled. “Please have lunch with me?”

“I have to get to work,” you smile. “But I’d love to meet you for a meal sometime. Alpine optional, but very much a bonus.” He smiles shyly back at you and nods. 

As you walk away he looks at Alpine, “okay, you were right.” Alpine meowed and nuzzled his cheek before he put her in his jacket and took her home. He texted you soon after to set up your first date.

[betterfettered]

Ok but imagine if the Mc they got was religious.

Like daily prayers, church going. Pretty much full fledged christian ending up in devildom with literal demons.

•Religious!mc who devoted their life to christ getting railed by the demon bros (especially lucifer).

•Religious!mc who was saving themself for marriage can no longer do so after her nights with the boys.

•Religious!mc who wore a cross necklace clutching it around her neck as they get railed from behind.

•Religious mc! who prays for forgiveness after begging for more the night before.

(I’m sorry but corruption kink is top teir + first time doing something like this so idk if it’s like worded correctly)

Anonnamin this ask gels so well with another one that I got about a super sweet MC from my moon anon!

Alright, but imagine this. A cute little reader who is just SUCH a softie Like, they are the type to help old ladies cross the street, volunteer at soup kitchens, work at a bakery, always give the brothers random little gifts that remind them of them, and just wholesome stuff like that. But the poor bby always blames themselves for any problems, like they are such a little ball of sunshine who is always blaming themselves, it's quite sad actually. Like they are always trying to brighten everyone's day and smiling, but if someone even slightly raises their tone at reader, reader will start tearing up and apologizing. They are just such a sweet little thing, and like the entire school absolutely loves them and a lot of people see reader like a little sibling figure. Because of this the brothers absolutely love this innocent cute little reader who only wants to make everyone feel happy and loved, but then their are all the other students at school stealing away reader's attention and protecting reader when they see how obsessive and possessive the brothers are. (Reader has no clue though lol, absentee parental figures gang, don't know what healthy love is ✌) (If the brothers get born mad at reader, reader will cry and isolate themselves because "they aren't enough for them" and "they probably don't wanna deal with me right now", and just close themselves off) Moon anon 🌙

I'm gonna combine the two of them together into an ask about a super saintly MC. 🧚🏿 If you feel like there was something I missed feel free to send in another ask~

It's killing me to imagine a terrified religious!MC waking up and meeting real life villains from the bible LOOOOOL literally wakes up, is introduced to The Actual Lucifer, passes back out again hahahahahha

I mention a trans girl with a dick in this, I don't know if that needs a warning. If you read this and appreciate the warning, please let me know somehow. Otherwise I'm not going to mention this kind of thing again.

(Gn!reader x AMAB!yandere, please let me know if reader is gendered)(noncon)(violence against reader)(gaslighting)(exhibitionism)(drugging)(plus size reader 💖🫡)(blasphemy, but you knew that LOLOL)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Yandere!Lucifer would soon feel pretty protective over an MC like this, especially because he thinks you're so foolish easily taken advantage of. He would also appreciate how obedient you are, it's so much easier than needing to tell his brothers to do or not do things over and over again. In a sense, he would protect you from things that he would do to you himself: he's not going to let concerned students at RAD take up all of your time because he himself is going to take up all of your time. He's not going to let other people order you around but he certainly is going to order you around. Most importantly, he won't let other people force you to live your life one way or another because you will be living life to his exact specifications.

I think on the other hand that he'd be kind of personally offended by your brand of religiousness. It intrinsically paints him as a bad guy and makes his reasoning out to be unjustified which, even if it weren't a sore spot, contradicts what he likes to believe about himself. I think his real cruelty streak would start to show around how he dismisses your beliefs. The first time you earn yourself a bad punishment from him, he'll be determined to hurt and violate you in ways that you would not have been able to imagine before, shoving toys into you that are way, way too big for only your first time, putting chained clamps on your nipples and tugging them until you are hoarse from screaming, forcing orgasm upon orgasm onto you until you it only hurts, paddling you until you're shaking. He'll ask why your God isn't helping you, but no answer you give him will be the right one (earning a larger toy or maybe another paddle): the real answer is because you like what he's doing to you, it's what you've always wanted, and your God knows that.

Yandere!Mammon would be sooo bad with this kind of MC LOL He's such a scammer that he would completely take you for all you're worth. You'd both end up broke and in trouble because of him LOLLL He has a hard time admitting when he's done something shitty, so he might allow you to blame yourself for things quite a bit, maybe even use your low self esteem to guilt you for spending time with other people at school vying for your attention (I'll circle back to this).

I don't think he'd have it on him to outright force himself on you because you're so innocent and sweet. Instead, he'll probably slip a double dose of an aphrodisiac into a snack he serves you and wait for you to come onto him. Imagine always wearing a religious robe and, after being drugged, hurriedly yanking it up in a daze so you can dumbly grind on Mammon's thigh and grab his wrists so you can rub his hands all over your body because you have no idea what to actually do about being horny LOL After he fucks you until you're satisfied, he'll let you think that the entire thing was your idea all along. If you get way too torn up about your sinful thoughts and behavior he might grudgingly admit that maybe you ate something strange. Circling back to the above, he is happy to take advantage of your guilt and naivete but he does have a kernel of morals deep down.

Yandere!Leviathan would be obsessed with your purity and good heartedness. I don't even want to mention her in this context because she is a child but honestly your personality would align with a lot of the kinds of things he likes about Ruri-chan. It's the ideal magical girl: chipper, sweet, always trying to help others etc. He'd be quietly obsessed with your religious behavior: you might be praying and then look up and see him watching you, or when you are helping people with things in public he follows you around and tries to help, too.

Unfortunately, the more he becomes obsessed with your purity, the more dirty thinking about you sexually will become to him, which means it makes him all the hornier LOL You'll start to notice him staring at your body and giving you lingering touches on your legs and shoulders. When he finally can't take it any more, he will want to shield you from the corruption as much as possible. He'll sneak into your room at night with a blindfold, tie it over your eyes and tell you to just go back to sleep. Obviously you wouldn't be able to sleep through someone taking your virginity, so he'll just try to soothe you as you cry even though he's fucking you way too hard because of his inexperience. You feel dirty and bruised once he's done with you, but rather than comfort you, he'll apologize by insulting himself and saying how awful and wicked he is and how you deserve better. You are always inclined to blame yourself, so even though you still feel his handprints all over you and the weird slipperiness between your legs makes you feel disgusting, you'll tell him it's not his fault and wonder what you must have done to provoke him. Levi is one of those people who says "I am a bad person anyway so might as well do it again", so expect the nightly visits to continue. You'll spend them clutching a cross as tightly as you can and praying, sadly unaware that that is only turning him on more.

Yandere!Satan wants to study you like an academic subject and needs to know everything about you that there is to know, so he'd be very very interested in your religion since it's such a big part of who you are. He also doesn't have as much experience with the celestial realm as the other brothers, so is more open to hearing about what is in your Bible since he doesn't have his own beliefs about it. You would literally be doing "Bible study and chill" with him where he listens to you talk about God and read scripture, and you would be so pleased when he seems like maybe he is thinking about converting. After all, to you helping him see the Lord's light is one of the kindest, sweetest things you can do.

That's why when the "and chill" part comes in you would feel so shocked and betrayed. You're sitting on his lap, reading pages out loud to him when you feel his teeth latch onto your neck and his tongue move back and forth over the sensitive skin while he gropes you. Maybe you're confused about his intention, so you ask what he's doing while he pins you face down by your shoulders, pulling your ass up and against him. You'd be confused and trying to explain that this isn't pious at all when he tells you he doesn't believe any of that shit at all and never did, and the shock would be so deep you don't even cry while he pulls your clothes off and throws your Bible to the floor carelessly like it's trash. Like Lucifer, he's the type to ask something like where it says in your scriptures that you should cum all over his face while he gives you head, or to slap you and actually quote Bible passages about meekness to you when you try to resist, asking if you really even believe what you read to him.

Yandere!Asmodeus is going to think how innocent you are is so cute and try to corrupt you immediately. Imagine you have baked some cookies, and you are going to give them out. He'll offer to go with you and then right before you step into the classroom he'll catch you by your waist, pulling your soft body back towards him until his arms are smushing your stomach. Asmo will whisper with his lips against your ear that every one of these people who is vying for your attention because you're so sweet actually just wants to be the first one to breed you, that when you hand them cookies they just think about fucking every hole you have. He'll ask what hole you'd use for which person until you struggle to get out of his arms and run away.

But even when you're gone, you can't help but think of his question every time you hand out a cookie, or in gym when a girl tries to talk to you and you can see her cock through her pants you can't help but think you want to take her in your mouth because it would hurt anywhere else. It's embarrassing and flustering and makes you want to be by yourself, which is a perfect time for Asmo to come and find you, to yank your robe up and point out how aroused you are. He'll narrate what's happening to your body, explaining it's totally natural to feel that way when you want to have sex, and asking who you saw that made you so horny.

He'll do this as long as he needs to until you are begging him to help you with this feeling between your legs that's driving you crazy and makes it hard to sit still in class. When you apologize to god before begging him to fuck you, he'll tell you that there's no need to. God gave you these feelings so you could act on them. He wants you to feel pleasure.

Yandere!Beel would be annoyed with how you let anyone who wants your attention have it, and he'd dislike how you always trust your god to keep you safe instead of him. God lets bad things happen all the time, so in his mind thats a ridiculous system. Whenever he sees you clutching your cross or praying, he will demand to know what it is you're asking for and try to give it to you himself. He thinks religion and your cross is a distraction from your relationship to him, especially since he's met all the people you're talking about and none of them are that special to him. If he wants your attention, he just cuts in to where you are and demands it, even if that means picking you up and carrying you away.

Yan!Beel will always fuck you when his libido outpaces his sense of control, but when he hears you praying he'll be enraged. You don't need that stuff! He'll try to rip your cross off of your neck, but the chain is too strong so he ends up choking you by it. You'd better say that all you need is him, to calm him down. Otherwise, expect him to yank you around by the chain like its a leash, pounding you so hard that you can't catch your breath to pray or beg him to stop. After he cums he'll just jam him fingers into you, stroking you with his other hand until you say what you want.

Listen I love Yandere!Belphie being insane as much as the next cockwhore, but I think he would actually be really, really kind to an MC like this. He went to the human world often to meet new kinds of people since he loves learning about them, so he'd be really comforted by how sweet and gentle you are while also loving how you hold him while he naps and let him tuck his cold feet under you all the time. He likes your prayers because they put him to sleep and give him good dreams.

What would make him snap is the constant attention to other people. He's often waiting for you in bed, so waiting hours and hours just to find out you've been with other people would drive him absolutely crazy. You might be tutoring a few other students and he comes in, seizing you by your hair and slamming your head down onto a desk. You squirm and plead for him to stop, but he'd still rip your clothes off and fuck you in front of them so they know that you are his. Even while you're sobbing he'll say (loud so they can all hear) that he can feel you clenching down on him, so you must love it. You'd turn your head to ask the other demons for help and see most of them with their hands in their pants and their eyes smoldering with lust. The fact that you'd be in so much pain losing your virginity in front of a crowd that you struggle like crazy and pray to be saved just makes the show more interesting.

[skyeslittlecorner]

The little kings scenarios you have are the best! Here's a cute idea: you know how kids think you're the best when you do things they couldn't do? How about a scenario where they think you're the absolute coolest after rescuing them from...idk, something 😅 Like it's hard to imagine them being in grave trouble (maybe except for levi my poor bby) but for the sake of this ask, the little kings ran into trouble and the mc, in all their human capacity, saved them in the nick of time.

These little guys are a thousand times more powerful than their own subjects, let alone humans. Time to give them a problem they can't solve by force (or at least they shouldn't). It's good that in the eyes of children the smallest problems can be the weight of a collapsing world, and it's good that we are here to save them.

A small spoiler for ch5 in Mammon's part.

Satan will do anything to avoid going to the dentist, even as an adult, let alone as a child. But if you go with him, maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe. It's not even about the pain, he just doesn't like it when someone picks at his mouth. It's true that you won't find a magical solution, but you can hold his little hand. And let him squeeze you when he hurts. Also, you can buy him a dog chew. Either way, you will be his most favorite human in all worlds.

Mammon, as a child, had a big problem with too much power in too small a body. When he appeared at the door of your room at night, barely holding back his tears, you didn't think twice and just lifted the covers. He climbs onto the bed with you, and you feel how stiff he is. Help him massage his cramped muscles. The pain will soon pass, and he will hug you like the greatest treasure in the world.

Beelzebub is the easiest one, you just save him from Bael lmao. Not that he's hurting him, but he won't let him sneak out to Paradise Lost, and Beel has such a terrible urge! Take this little king on a trip to Gehenna and you will be a hero. Plus, you'll kill two birds with one stone, because little Satan won't be bored either. In fact, you can try to collect them all like Pokémon and feel like a full-fledged royal nanny. 

Leviathan looks like he's even afraid of his own shadow. At first, he doesn't even trust you, but the more time you spend with him, the better he feels. His comfort zone will become the zone around you. Barbatos thinks he's constantly levitating somewhere close to you, like a planet around the sun. There is no threat in his palace, but in Levi’s eyes, nothing will threaten him only thanks to your presence.

[stevieschrodinger]

I really want to write this as like a fully fledged, 100k word fic, but I just do not have the time. I need to get the idea down so here it is.

So modern AU. Steve is an Alpha, always known he wanted to help people, little boy who wants to be a police officer or a firefighter, that sort of thing. Mother humors him, Dad is disinterested, both parents are hands off to the point of being borderline neglectful without actually crossing the line - the second Steve can legally get out, he goes to college. Ends up taking an interest in Omega studies, of all things - which leads neatly into the career choice that Steve didn't even know he needed.

By the time Steve is 23 he's leading his own little team under the watchful eye of his superior - Jim Hopper. They're a special branch of the FBI, geared specifically to finding and breaking up illegal Omega abduction and trade rings. Steve's good at what he does - really good - top of his class for firearms, has an affinity for the Omega he comes into contact with, and his control over his Alpha is pretty second to none. Steve can radiate comfort in the middle of a firefight if he has to - if it means keeping these people safe.

Steve sees some pretty horrible shit - he's miraculously well adjusted, goes to his mandated therapy sessions like a good boy, and gets on with Hopper surprisingly well for how surly the guy can be.

Steve's worst attribute is that he's a workaholic - he has a history of failed relationships, so he gives up entirely and has no social life to speak of.

And then Steve's out with his team - it's taken months to track this down. Steve's been supervising undercover agents, starting with a tip off about illegal drug trades that pinged Steve's radar as Omega hormones. So rather than heading in and arresting at base level, Steve, with Hopper's nod, pulls the thread.

They assumed the hormones were heat inducing - they were wrong, and what they find is horrifying. The drugs have been used on un-presented kids. Stolen kids, as young as 11, to try and force them into presenting as Omega. These kids have been abducted from everywhere, no sense to it that anyone can see - except that these kids all come from poor families. Marginalized by society - in a lot of cases, kids that haven't even been reported as missing.

To top it off - the kids are being abused. Neglected, starved, left in filthy conditions and being regularly sexually assaulted. It is by far the worst thing Steve, or even Hopper, in his long carer, has ever seen.

They go in, break up the ring, the perpetrators are either killed in the ensuing firefight or captured and brought in.

Steve sustaining only minor injuries in the altercation, continues on with his job to clear out the kids and get them to safety- in his haste to get to where the final group of kids are being held, sets off a booby trap of some sort.

Steve is badly injured- his lower left leg taking the vast majority of the damage- for the first time in his career, Steve panics. But then he has a kid with him, big brown eyes and a mop of curly hair, skin too pale and drawn, dirty fingers and bare feet. And this kid is trying to comfort Steve, obviously understanding that this is a rescue. By the time the rest of his team get to him, Steve is finding comfort in the scent of un-presented pup - the little guy curled up right against Steve.

The pup is, evidently, also finding comfort in Steve, both of them locked together, faces buried in each others scent glands.

They wont let go of each other, even in the ambulance, and it's decided pretty quickly that if they're keeping each other calm, to let them stay that way. On arrival to the hospital, they're both sedated for their own good - Steve wakes up to find he's missing his left leg from the knee down, and Hopper asleep slouched in the chair next to him.

The first thing he does is ask about the pup - Hopper tells him what he can, the kid is called Eddie, was small because he was starved and actually was thirteen years old - and he's safe and well, already reunited with his uncle.

Steve can relax. But not really. Because once his leg heals, he's in physio, and then learning to regain his mobility with a prosthetic, also dealing with the deafness the explosion left him with in his left ear, and the scarring that stretches all the way up to his left hip.

Hopper is determined not to loose Steve off his team - he basically invents a roll for him, if he wants it - Steve is too good to be wasted, so he goes back to work for Hopper in an investigative roll. He'll never work in the field again, but he becomes the brains behind a lot of successful operations.

But still, he's listless, missing the hands on aspects on his roll. He treads water for nearly two years, before he happens to have a conversation in the office break room, with one Robin Buckley.

Steve's known Robin for years, she's an Omega behaviorist, and works a lot with traumatized Omega, rehabilitating, therapy, that kind of thing. She's always been there, on the periphery of Steve's team, taking the Omega off their hands. After Steve's rescues, it's with Robin that the real work often begins. From the conversations they've had previously - Steve handing over information about conditions he'd found Omega in, likely what they've been put through, and anything else that will help Robin do her job, he's always found her sympathetic but no nonsense. He's always respected Robin.

And maybe that's why their conversation easily slips into Steve confessing his listlessness - and what prompts Robin to suggest he retrain. She's heard herself how bombproof Steve's Alpha is in the field - would he be interested in a day or two a week with her team? Positive Alpha exposure is often a vital step in the reintegration process.

Steve thinks about it. He talks about it with Hopper. Between them both, Steve figures he has nothing to loose, and Hopper agrees to release Steve a day a week to Buckley's department on a trial. Steve takes on extra training - bolstering up his Omega Studies qualifications from College. Steve loves it. it's fulfilling. It gives him the hands on aspect of his job he'd been missing.

And then Hopper lands a file on his desk - it's come to them via unorthodox means, through a local doctor, then a hospital specialist, then flagged by Buckley's team as it's an old rescue case. A closed case. And Steve opens the file to find a picture of himself, grainy, black and white, but unmistakably Steve. He's sitting on a gurney, someone desperately doing something to the mess of his leg, but in his lap, the curly haired pup he hadn't let go of that day.

The pup who, apparently had presented an Omega. Steve reads, doing the math, reading the hospital records from that day. The kid had presented basically the second he'd woken up. He'd presented, most likely, while Steve was in surgery still.

That stirs something in Steve. Something a little unfamiliar; the feeling that he hadn't been there and he should have been.

There's another picture, Edward Munson, the kids put on weight, he's grown some. Still has big brown eyes looking out of a very pretty face; and that stirs something in Steve too.

Munson basically hasn't been okay since the rescue. At first they put it down to the usual stuff, the kid had survived being abducted, drugged, sexually assaulted, physical harm, that kind of trauma can take years to work though, decades, a lifetime. But everyone is maintaining there's something a little off with this kid, something else wrong, something hindering his recovery that really shouldn't be; it's like he's mate sick.

But he doesn't have a mate.

The one time they tried to expose this kid to an Alpha, it ended so badly he became aggressive. And then someone dug deep enough to find this photo, to read this file.

Steve's standing up before Hopper gets to the end of the question, yes, he wants to see the Omega, yes, he's going to work with the Omega.

There's a frustratingly long song and dance around it - Buckley wants to follow protocol to the letter, so their first meeting is in one of the Omega work rooms, just Eddie and Steve, very calm, very controlled, with Robin and Hopper observing from the other side of a one way glass mirror.

Eddie backs away at first, is dubious of Steve, but Steve has a worn shirt with him and leaves it on a chair within reach, and once Eddie, finally scents it, he bursts into tears, "is it really you?" he sobs, and Steve confirms that it is, and Eddie is climbing into Steve's lap, still sobbing, "I thought I'd never see you again."

And they stay like that, until Robin finally breaks them up, but Eddie will not let go of Steve, not completely, and Steve doesn't want to let go of Eddie either, but he has to.

He has to make his case. He has to explain that that sixteen year old Omega, a decade Steve's junior, is without doubt Steve's mate. There's a lot of back and forth, they need the uncles blessing, which after a thirty second conversation with Eddie, Wayne doesn't hesitate.

Steve takes Eddie home, with instructions from Hopper to take all the time he needs.

This is where the real work starts, Eddie is traumatized, has been mate sick since the day he presented, and needs a hell of a lot of work. Their bond is solid, but formed in trauma, so the attachment issues become almost immediately apparent.

They put in the work - Eddie has a therapist who is not Steve, and Steve still goes to his own therapy sessions like a good boy. They deal with a lot of things, Eddie's night terrors, his awful relationship with food, his inability to settle, the panic attacks. Eddie's first heat, where nothing happens because Eddie is still terrified of sex. They work through Eddie's confused feelings; Steve falls utterly and completely in love.

Eddie slowly picks up his reading - the education he's missed - starts gently with a distance learning course. Steve goes back to work, a gentle three half days a week to start with.

They get through it all, and make a life together.

[notsunnyowo]

Prom Dress

Gojo Satoru graduation party headcanon :>

Content: Just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Female Reader (AFAB)

Word Count: 606

"Satoru!! We're going to be late!" You called out to your date.

"Just give me five more minutes to finish up and I'll be right down!" You heard Gojo's voice coming from his dorm room.

"You said that fifteen minutes ago man!" You reprimanded. "My feet are killing me!"

The schoolyear had finally ended and you were over the moon with excitement. You had finally graduated from Jujutsu High and were now a full-fledged Jujutsu Sorcerer!

As the last day you'd be spending in the school, all your classmates, correction, every student currently attending the school had gotten together to organize a graduation party for your class.

You could hear the upbeat music coming from outside. I bet everyone's having a blast out there.. You thought. You, too were supposed to be out there, having the time of your life with all your friends, but instead you were stuck waiting for your best friend and current date - Gojo Satoru.

"That's it- If you don't come out this instant I'm going without you Satoru!"

No response.

"Alright then, I warned you." You said, turning around and taking a step forward, only to be stopped by the unmistakable sound of Gojo's room door opening.

"About time! If you'd made me wait even one more second I would've-" You paused, jaw almost dropping at the sight before you.

Is that..? N-No way.. It can't possibly be-

Standing right there in front of you was your best friend, yet you couldn't seem to believe it.

Since when did Satoru become this hot?!

"Y-You uh.. Look good. I mean- The suit looks good! On you, that is!. What is going on with me today..?!" Letting out an awkward laugh you clear your throat before suggesting. "Shall we go now? I'm sure the others are waiting for us."

"Yeah." Satoru gave you a soft smile, making your poor heart almost leap out of your chest. "Let's go."

He took his arm out, gesturing for you to take it, and once you did, the two of you began walking down the hall in silence. You didn't dare to say a word, especially not after what just happened a few minutes ago.

What had even gotten into you back there? Why did you begin stuttering like a nervous wreck in front of Satoru? It wasn't like you to get nervous like that, especially not when it came to Gojo, your best friend of nearly four years!

You glanced at him, heart skipping a beat while doing so.

I always knew he had a good looking face.. But I never realized how handsome he actually was..

It didn't take long for Satoru to take notice of your staring and look back at you. His crystal-blue eyes locked with your own. Looking into them felt like gazing deep into a vast ocean.

His previously soft smile quickly morphed into his signature shit-eating grin as he then stated. "(Name), you're staring."

Feeling the heat rushing to your checks, you immediately looked away, hastily uttering out an apology to the boy.

"Sorry about that.."

"S'fine." Satoru replied. "If I were you I'd also get lost looking into my eyes. Since they are breathtaking."

His comment made you chuckle, instantly lightening the mood.

"Yeah, they really are beautiful."

This time, it was Satoru who went quiet and you instantly looked at him, afraid to have done something wrong, only to be met with Gojo's flushed checks.

Were you seeing things or was the Gojo Satoru blushing right now? It sure was!

It took the boy a moment to compose himself before turning to you and saying.

"You look beautiful tonight."

A/N: I was scrolling trough Tumblr when I saw these pictures of Gojo and knew I had to write something about them. And so- Here we are :'D

Hope you all enjoyed reading! <3

[atticsandwich]

burnt toast, sunday

pairing: mephistopheles / gn!mc

slice of life, bonding with mephisto's younger brother, mephisto being a boyfail (endearingly) but he's also a really good older brother

"Don't you have royal babysitters for this kind of thing?"

"Yes and no, but I'd rather have someone I trust to look after my precious little brother."

"So you trust me?"

"Wh...?! Only because Lord Diavolo does!"

or: a babysitting favor-turned-impromptu sleepover party, accidental wingman-er, wingdemon little brother, and poor Mephisto having an internal crisis

[set in the OG timeline, pre-NB]

quick a/n: i cannot for the life of me think of a name for mephisto's brother, so watch how many variations of "little brother" i can use before u get sick of it <3 i like to picture him kinda like a Luke-sized version of Mephisto lol

a/n part 2: erm. i might've accidentally made this a full-fledged fic instead of a quick little drabble help

-

"So let me get this straight," you start, trying to process what the noble demon before you just proposed.

"You want me to babysit your little brother this weekend, because..."

"--Because I need to attend an event, and I have no one else to turn to but you, yes, that's the gist of it," he finishes, both arms on his hip as if he's recounted this to you 5 times over.

(He has.)

"What about your parents?" you inquire.

Sighing, he returns to his seat across from you, like the thought of them gave him a headache.

"Off to who-knows-where in an exclusive excursion. Last time I called they were somehow in Santorini."

"In the Human Realm?!"

"If you're wondering if there are any more demons masquerading as humans up there, no, there aren't. They'd need permission from Lord Diavolo first lest they get hunted down by Barbatos."

"Oh. That's assuring."

"It's a bad look for the Devildom if we leave our denizens unattended. Anyways, back to the topic at hand--"

"Don't you have, like, royal babysitters for that kind of thing?" you interject. "Like, you know, a personal butler?"

"Yes, and no," another sigh escapes him.

"While we do have butlers, they're more for tending to the estate. Plus, I doubt they could tend to my little brother's pasttime interests. I could very well simply hire a royal babysitter, as you would call it, but I'd rather have someone I trust look after my precious brother."

"So... you trust me?" you try to stop yourself from giving him a smug grin, but the chance was too perfect to miss.

"Wh...?! D-Don't twist my words, human! I only say that because Lord Diavolo does!" his face is flushed in embarrassment, clearly taken aback by the quip. He diverts his face away from looking at you, instead suddenly finding the Newspaper Clubroom's accent wall of interest.

Classic.

"Plus, considering your background experience with those brothers, I'd say you're more than qualified for the job."

You hold back from giggling - which he picks up on - much to his annoyance. But you find yourself curious about his home and his brother, who he's mentioned in many separate occasions. You have to admit, you'd also like to meet what kind of brother Mephisto has.

"Alright, I'll do it," you finally say, standing from your seat, fully decided.

"Wh-Really? Oh. Good. Perfect," he tries hiding the way his shoulders relax from stiffness, clearly relieved you finally agreed.

"...On one condition, though."

"Hm? Name your price."

"Ask me again, but this time, say 'pretty please?'"

(And if the students outside that room jumped from the doors suddenly bursting open, with a red-faced demon chasing a laughing human around, cane in hand, well, they'll just chalk it up as another normal day at R.A.D.)

-

"Whad'ya mean you won't be home the whole weekend?!" Mammon's whines fall on deaf ears as he watches you pack your overnight bag. You've already told him about the arrangement a few days prior, but it seems the information just processed now.

"It's not like I'm moving away, Mams."

"But what if you fall in love with his house and decide to stay there forever?!" he whines more, as you let out an amused giggle.

"I'll get you a little souvenir when I get back, okay? We can hang out then."

"Promise?"

"Promise. You won't even notice I'm gone!" you zip up your bag, finishing up your pack. As you do, a knock on your door grabs the attention of both of you.

"Yeah?"

"Um..." the door creaks open, revealing a groggy, half-awake Belphegor. "There's a guy waiting for you outside, I think he's one of Mephistopheles' drivers."

Giving the youngest demon a thumbs up, you stand, slinging your overnight bag on your shoulder. It's not too heavy, and after double checking if everything's in order, you make your way out of your room.

"Ride's here! See ya later Mams! Thanks Belphie!"

You walk past some of the brothers on your way out, bidding your goodbyes as you do, although not before taking a little extra bag full of snacks that Beel insisted you bring with you. Upon reaching the house's front gate, you're greeted by a tall demon, clad in formal wear. He introduces himself as your designated driver sent by Mephisto, and ushers you in the vehicle after you return the introduction.

The ride to Mephisto's estate is quiet, and you occupy your time by scrolling through your D.D.D, updating Lucifer that you just left the house, as he had to leave earlier to finish R.A.D-related paperwork. You also send updates in your group chat with the brothers, as well as the guys from Purgatory Hall - who insisted on getting updates, too.

Before long, the car pulls up to a giant, gilded gate - extravagant feels like an understatement, you think, the intricacy of its details almost reminding you of classic gothic architecture from the Human Realm. The mansion itself isn't something to scoff at either; you already knew Mephisto's family was filthy, stinkin' rich - Mammon's words, not yours - but seeing it yourself is an entirely different story.

The car slows down to a halt, stopping at the manor's front entrance. The driver quickly exits the vehicle to usher you out, before driving off to a separate part of the estate. Mephistopheles is standing by the front door, already dressed up for the event he mentioned.

"Lookin' good, Mephisto! That coat looks great on you," you tease and wave a greeting.

"You've arrived. I trust the drive was pleasant?" rolling his eyes, he pretends not to hear anything you just said.

"Definitely beats walking to here, that's for sure," you say as he opens the door for you, beckoning you inside

"Someone's being a gentleman today!"

"Tch," he furrows his brows in annoyance. "Only because you're a guest, so don't get used to it," You can't help but giggle at the treatment, saying a quick thanks as you walk in.

His manor is huge - the large, open foyer that greets you the second you step in is embellished in gold and marble pillars, with a chandelier befitting its grandeur. A portrait of two demons is its centerpiece, who you can assume are his parents. He leads you through an arched entryway leading to the living room, decorated with a large ornate rug and furniture that looks like it got taken directly from a rococo painting - not to mention the actual rococo-style paintings hanging on its walls.

"As you can tell, this is the living room," he pauses for a bit before continuing. "Although we only really use it if my parents have guests over. Even then, they prefer having tea at the backyard."

"Dude, your house is like, a museum," words fail your thoughts.

"Don't be ridiculous, you've been to the Demon Lord's castle plenty of times for you to still be ogling at some gilded furniture."

"Yeah, but he's like - the prince - and I already expected that anyway since the word castle is in the name, y'know?"

He rolls his eyes, continuing the mini-tour.

"Past that hall is the kitchen, and the dining hall is opposite of it," he points out. "Don't worry about food, though. I've already informed the butlers of your staying. They'll call when food is ready. You can ask tea from them at any time, as well."

"Aw, really? I kinda wanted to try cooking at a fancy mansion..."

"Don't you already do enough cooking at the House of Lamentation?"

"Yeah, but I rather enjoy it - plus, my baking skills are a bonafide way to make any kid like me! Or at least, that's what Luke says..."

He rolls his eyes again, before sighing in resignation. "Knock yourself out then, I'll let the butlers know. They'll inform you where everything is if you ask."

"Heh, thanks Meph." he grimaces at the even-shortened nickname, but lets it slide anyways.

"For the main point of you staying here, my brother's room is upstairs," he leads you to a set of staircases at the end of the living room leading to a large hallway at the second floor. "Follow me to his room - I've made arrangements so the room next to his can be your quarters. There's an en suite bathroom, so you don't need to worry about that."

"Thanks, you've really thought of everything, huh?" he rolls his eyes again, but doesn't retort.

"My brother's quite shy, so it might take some time and a bit of coercion for him to warm up to you. He's never really had a proper babysitter before," he pauses, stopping at one of the doors, before giving a firm knock.

A soft "come in" can be heard from the inside, as Mephisto and you enter the room. The room itself is quite different from the overall feel of the mansion - it's a lot more casual and comfortable. It's still quite large, with a seating area and a multiple bookshelves, leading to a large bed. You see a young demon seated in a sofa, book in hand, as he stands to greet his brother. He's about the same size as Luke, although unmistakably of the same blood as Mephisto - similarly colored well-kept hair, green eyes... yeah this demon is definitely his brother.

"Big brother!" he greets enthusiastically. Just from that, you can tell how close they are. "-- and... um..."

"Hello there," you give the smaller demon a wave and your warmest smile. Embarrassed, he hides his face behind the book he's holding.

"No need to be shy, this is, er, my friend from RAD who I mentioned will be looking after you while I'm away," he explains. The younger demon peers at you from his book, before nodding to his brother.

"Hello..." he's too cute, you think, almost wanting to squeeze the life out of the boy. He continues looking at you, until it looks like something clicks in his head.

"Big brother, are they the human you keep telling me about?"

Oh? You had to stop yourself from spitting out a noise in surprise, although turning to Mephisto, who's suddenly beet-red from what his brother said, didn't help your cause, and unfortunately, just made you want to let out a louder laugh. His younger brother's eyes just sparkle even more.

"It is you! Big brother's told me about you before! You're even prettier in real life!" his enthusiasm is cut short when Mephisto covers his mouth to keep him from saying anything else, although he's conveniently looking everywhere but at you. For now, you spare him mercy and lean down to his younger brother's height.

"That's nice of you to say," you smile, Mephisto's hand finally releasing his brother's mouth. "Your big brother has also told me about how much of a wonderful little brother you are."

He's embarrassed again, returning to hiding his face behind his book. The moment is interrupted, however, when Mephisto's D.D.D starts beeping an alarm, and, upon seeing the time on the screen, turns it off and nods to the two of you.

"Ah, that means I must take my leave. I'll leave you to it then - and uh," he turns, looking at his younger brother. "Please don't embarrass your big brother..." he half-whispers to him, although you hear it quite clearly. "Give me a call if anything happens. I should be back by lunchtime tomorrow."

"See ya, Mephisto!"

"Take care, big brother!"

-

Looking after Mephisto's younger brother is a delight, you think. Although the demon was indeed, pretty shy at first, the moment he saw your Ruri-Hana keychain dangling from your D.D.D - gifted to you by Levi - his eyes started sparkling and all the icebreaker meekness got thrown out the window.

"I-I love Ruri-Hana! I watch all her shows!"

"Why don't we have a little watch party tonight? I'll bake some themed cookies, too!"

"R-Really? You'd do that?" his voice is clearly quivering from excitement at the prospect. You giggle and pat his head in response.

"Absolutely! If you want, you can help, too!"

The elated smile he gives in response is bright, and he pulls you across his room to show you the little corner where he keeps all his memorabilia. His enthusiasm is endearing, and you can't help but feel a sense of older-sibling duty, not too dissimilar as what you feel with Luke.

"Wow! That's a figure of that one time she dressed up as Santa-Devil for a Devilmas special!" all the bingewatching with Levi finally paid off, as you silently thank the third-born in your head for getting you into the franchise as well.

For a while he shows you his collection, until you have an idea and pull out your D.D.D. You show him pictures of a recent convention you went to with Levi, and all the pictures you took with Ruri-Hana franchise cosplayers. His eyes light up at each one, excitedly naming each character. Not long after, a butler knocks on the room, informing the both of you that lunch was to be served.

The dining hall, despite only having you and Mephisto's younger brother, is filled with chatter as you both eat. You learn that he also reads a ton of books, a sentiment that you share. He tells you his favorites, and expresses interest on reading Human Realm literature. You promise to bring over some the next time you're over, which excites the little demon.

After lunch, you start prepping for baking, and after being given a quick kitchen tour by a butler, you work on laying out everything you need. Mephisto's brother is on the other side of the counter on a step stool, so he can see the countertop, pencil and paper in hand, drawing cookie shape ideas to fit the theme.

By the time you both finish cutting and carving off shapes for the dough, it's already late afternoon and the butler comes by to offer you both tea and some light snacks. The younger demon suggests a tea break in the garden, and you go along with his suggestion. He leads you outside through a hallway past the kitchen, and you're greeted by a large expanse of lush flora, and even further, you spot a large clearing where multiple Devildom horses are grazing.

"That midnight one over there is the fastest, he's my big brother's favorite!" he points out, and you spot the horse in question. It's a gorgeous stallion, its fur seemingly glittering under the Devildom moon.

"I have a horse of my own too, but big brother says I'm still too young to race..."

"I'm sure you'll be at it soon!" you assure him. "I don't know much about horseback riding though, so you'll have to show me the ropes when the time comes."

"Oh! Maybe big brother can teach you! Then you'll be able to ride horses, too!"

You lightly laugh at his enthusiasm at the topic, although the image of Mephisto helping you on a saddle flashes in your mind. You hurriedly swallow down the thought - and the slight fluster - with some tea, before you can dwell too much on it.

"I doubt your brother likes me enough to teach me," you lightheartedly joke. The furrow in the young demon's brow slightly surprises you though, as he turns to face you.

"That's not true! Big brother likes you a lot!"

"He... does?" He does?

"Yeah! He's a bit weird about it sometimes, though. He says he's impressed by you and how you reign around the demon brothers, but then he'll also say how much he wants to squeeze the 'life out of your pretty face!'"

"Ah..." your cheeks are quickly turning red, but you try to shake off the imagery. You take another sip of tea to try calm your beating heart down.

"I don't know what he meant by that, though. I don't want him to crush your face!"

His childlike naivete reminds you of Luke, causing you to laugh. "Don't worry, I'm sure he didn't mean it literally," you assure him. You pause, in thought for a second. "So... what else has he said about me?"

"O-Oh! He says that you're such a hard worker. He's told me that not only are you a student council member, you're also a sorcerer's apprentice! That must be hard..."

"Well, it is, but I manage. I do enjoy being in the Devildom, after all."

"He...uh, he says he hopes you're getting enough rest though," the younger demon's voice pauses, a bit hesitant to continue, which you pick up on.

"Hm?" Interesting. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, um... sometimes he'll complain about finding you asleep around school and that now he has to make sure no one disturbs you... so he-ah--! I think I've said too much! Please don't let big brother know I told you!"

You're thankful he's hiding his face in shame because you're pretty sure your own face is also red from being flustered. In your head you're already teasing Mephisto with this information, but you can't deny that your heart fluttered upon learning he's been watching over you all this time - how typical of him, you think.

"How about I tell you a little secret too? Just between us," you offer, calming him down.

"Um... okay, I'm listening," his eyes are focused on you now, clearly all-ears in anticipation.

"I really like your big brother, too."

"R-Really?! You do?"

You nod your head in assurance. "Promise not to tell him though?"

"Yeah! I promise!"

"Alright then. How about you help me make the icing for the cookies now so we can decorate immediately after dinner?"

Before he can respond, however, your D.D.D. starts ringing from where you put it on the table. Looking at the caller I.D., you can't help but breathe out a little giggle. Speak of the devil.

"Meph? What's up?"

"I'm just checking in to see how everything's going. There hasn't been any problems, has there?"

"I-Is that big brother? I wanna talk to him!" again, this kid's enthusiasm is endearing.

"Here, why don't you talk to your brother?"

-

To say he's been restless the entire event is an understatement - Mephisto has been fidgeting and pacing back and forth the entire time. It's not that he doesn't trust the human to look after his beloved sibling, no, it's the dawning realization that his brother might start saying things. Suddenly, the countless R.A.D. stories he's told him that involved you became embarrassment fuel. He's tried distracting himself by socializing with the other nobles in the grounds, however all the attempts have been proven futile. Glugging down demonus didn't seem to be working either, having to be cautious that he wasn't drinking too much.

Checking the time, he infers that it should be fine to give a call - just to make sure, he assures himself, scrolling his contacts list until he spots your name.

Just one call, Mephistopheles, don't overthink it!

A few rings later, you pick up, and he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in.

"Meph? What's up?"

"I'm just checking in to see how everything's going. There hasn't been any problems, has there?" he's fidgeting the cuff of his sleeves, still restless.

"Is....brother? I wanna....talk....!" he recognizes the voice in the background as his little brother, although talk about poor reception - he'll need to speak with the venue coordinator later.

"Here... don't.... talk.... brother?" the reception sounds like it's getting worse, which is not helping his nerves at all - he can't decipher what either of you are trying to say.

"Brother.... help.... icing.... decorate.... watch.... bad guys....."

?!

"H-Hello? Are you still there? Hey! What do you mean help?!" he's frantic now, trying not to jump to any conclusions - in any case though, he definitely heard his little brother say help and bad guys before the line got cut off from the poor reception... Right?

So like any responsible big brother would, he apologizes to the event host, citing an emergency, and hurriedly calls for his chauffeur to get him home as soon as possible.

-

"Hm? That's weird, the line got cut off..." you both stare at your phone screen, wondering what happened.

"Oh...."

"Don't worry," you try conforting the younger demon. "I'm sure he just had some business to attend to. Let's try calling him again later, yeah?"

"Okay! I wanna tell him about the Ruri-Hana cookies....!"

"Let's go prepare the icing then!"

Nodding, he excitedly gets up from his seat, taking your hand as he hurriedly leads you back to the kitchen. Upon arriving, you both immediately get to work, and he picks out food coloring combinations while you mix up the icing base, dividing it into multiple bowls. He's at first worried that there wouldn't be enough colors, until you remind him that he can mix for new ones, and he's back to excitedly listing down which colors correspond to which bowl.

You both finish prepping everything just in time for dinner; the little demon scarfing down his meal as fast as he could - almost reminding you of a certain ginger demon - and you laugh as you try to match his pace. Before long you're both back in the kitchen, watching the first batch of cookies turn a nice golden color before pulling them out of the oven to cool. You explain to him that the cookies need to rest first before decorating, and he resists the urge to take one cookie as a trial piece. Endeared, you give in and tell him he can get one cookie - as a treat for being such a good helper, you say.

"It's already so good!" he exclaims.

"Heh, I bake a lot with the brothers back at home, so I'm glad you like it!"

"I'm serious! These might be the best cookies ever! I can't wait to decorate!" you swear that if he wasn't restraining himself, he would've been bouncing up and down in excitement. To satiate his energy, you ask him to start preparing the Ruri-Hana CDs in his room, so the watch party can immediately proceed once the cookies are ready. He happily obliges, rushing off upstairs.

Giggling, you take out your D.D.D to pass the time while waiting. Recalling Mephisto's call earlier, you decide to contact him to give an update, as his call from a while ago got cut off. Surpisingly, he answers the moment the call beeps.

"Hello?! Is everything alright there?! Don't worry, I'm by the gates now so-"

"Uh... Mephisto? Are you okay?" he sounds panicked and in a rush, much to your confusion.

"Wh-?! The call earlier, I heard something about a bad guy and needing help?!"

Ah, it immediately clicks for you.

"By any chance, did we get cut off because of bad reception?"

"Well... uh... yeah?"

"Mephisto," you stifle a laugh, but can't help but let it out. The demon on the other side of the line sounds bewildered, urging for clarification. "I think you misheard what your little brother said, and jumped to conclusions."

The line is silent, almost eerily so. You try to stifle another laugh, to no avail.

"Meph, you do realize I'm a capable sorcerer and have seven demons on my beck and call if anything bad were to happen, right?"

"Listen--"

"Please don't tell me you panicked and left your event early."

"Don't rub it in!"

"Well... at least you're in time to help us decorate cookies?"

"Shut up."

You laugh again at the absurdity of the situation as he hangs up, just in time for his younger brother to come trotting down the stairs.

"The CDs are all ready! Can we decorate now?" his pleads, eyes sparkling.

"We can, but I think we have a surprise guest. Why don't we meet him out front?"

"Huh? Who else is coming?"

"You'll see. Come on!"

-

By the time the two of you reach the foyer, the front door is already opening, revealing a disheveled, clearly drained Mephistopheles. You stop yourself from laughing, again, while the younger demon next to you jumps in surprise.

"Big brother! You're back early!" he runs up to him to greet him into a hug, which Mephisto reciprocates, giving him a pat on the head, as well.

"Yes, yes. I was, uh... able to leave early due to some--" he turns his gaze at you, furrowing his brows, flustered. You let out a small huff of air, looking away. "--circumstance. I trust your day was well, my dear brother?"

The younger demon gives a vigorous nod of excitement. "The best! I love my babysitter, big brother! They're the coolest!"

"Really, now?" he raises a brow in interest, urging his brother to continue.

"Yeah, we were just about to decorate cookies for our Ruri-Hana watch party... Oh! You should come help us decorate, big brother!" he doesn't even let the elder respond, already dragging him towards the kitchen. You follow suit, entertained by the two brothers. Mephisto looks behind towards you, casting a questioning glance, and all you do is mouth you'll see.

At the kitchen, Mephisto is given a quick crash course by his little brother about which colors to use, and what to decorate, pulling out the drawings he did from a while ago. Being the doting older brother that he is, he can't say no, and instead tries to follow the instructions he's being given. You transfer the separated icing mixtures into piping bags and show the two brothers the trick to get icing out evenly with even pressure and a steady hand, and despite some mishaps - mostly on Mephisto's part - you finish decorating every cookie, now having a gorgeous Ruri-Hana themed spread. You make sure to take a quick photo to send to Levi later.

"My work here is done then," you proclaim, dusting off bits of flour from your arms. "I'm guessing you'll want me gone now since you came back early...?" you turn to Mephisto, waiting for a quip from him.

"Wha- No...!" his younger sibling is immediately at your side, grabbing ahold of your shirt. "You can't leave yet! We were gonna watch Ruri-Hana!" his voice cracks.

"Big brother, you won't let them leave yet, right...?" he gives Mephisto a pleading look. You glance at him as well, and he catches your gaze. Flustered, he looks away, huffing.

"W-Well... I suppose you already did make plans, so..."

"Did you hear that? You can stay...!" he jumps in excitement, still grabbing onto you. "You can watch with us, big brother! We'll tell you all about the show!"

"And he did help with cookies," you add.

You can tell he initially wanted to decline the offer, but one look at his brother's expectant eyes crumbles him down immediately, sighing in resignation.

"F-Fine. You can leave the cookies here, I'll bring them up after I change."

Giggling, the younger demon proceeds to urge you quickly up to his room, where the watch party is set up. You suggest building a pillow fort while waiting for Mephisto, and if you thought the little demon couldn't get even more excited, you were mistaken. He's immediately onboard the idea, taking all the blankets and sheets off his massive bed. You quickly stop by to what was supposed to be your room to grab additional pillows and blankets, bringing it back to the other room.

The fort is a little rough around the edges and haphazard, but the younger demon doesn't seem to care, smile never seeming to go down. Mephisto enters the room a little while later, tray of cookies in hand, looking more casual than usual.

"I've brought the cooki-- Er, what are you two doing?"

"Big brother, look! We made a pillow fort! We can watch Ruri-Hana even better now!"

"A... fort? I fail to see any sort of resemblance..."

"Just get in here," you urge him, taking the tray off of his hands, setting it at the center. Mephisto's brother has already found his spot near the side, hugging a large Azuki-tan plush close to himself.

"Oh! You can sit next to me! That way, I can tell you all my favorite parts! And big brother can sit next you!" he suggests. You comply, trying not to think much about the seating placement, or if the little devil had ulterior motives. After taking your place, Mephisto is still standing outside the fort, seemingly in conflict with himself, staring at the empty space next to you. You pat the spot with your hand, inviting him in. You hear him groan in contempt, mumbling an "I guess that works" to himself as he sits next to you. You giggle at his resignation, and he casts you a glare, although you could tell it had no bite.

The watch party starts off without a hitch - you and Mephisto's little brother gleefully react at all the exciting scenes, as if you've never seen the show before. Mephisto seemed confused half the time, although it's clear he was entertained enough to stay. You humour him every now and then by explaining some of the finer details, and he's surprisingly very attentive. It's not long before he brings his own commentary on the table on certain scenes, prompting discussions and lighthearted debates between the three of you.

Hours and a whole tray of cookies later, the younger demon next to you has drifted off to sleep, curling himself in, Azuki-tan plush by his side. Mephisto, although initially wanting to transfer him to his bed, eventually gives in to let him continue sleeping as is - it's a pillow fort, nothing's more cofortable! - you assure the usually snarky demon, who sighs in defeat.

"He's a really sweet kid," you tell him, placing a blanket over the young demon, who snuggles in comfortably. "--very much unlike his big brother," you add, teasing him.

"He's nice enough for the both of us," his reply is sarcastic, rolling his eyes in addition as a response. "But yes, he's the best brother I could ask for."

"Hah, just now, you kinda sounded like Lucifer when he gets drunk--"

"Do not compare me to that arrogant, self-absorbed, goat-horned jerk."

"Oh, that's a new one. I'll have to use that sometime," you laugh quietly, careful not to disturb your snoozing fortmate. You notice him trying to stifle his own laugh, more amused than he lets on.

A welcomed silence envelops the room, the lowered volume of a Ruri-Hana episode still playing in the background. You can't help but stare at his screen-illuminated face, engrossed in a fight scene between Ruri-chan and the epsiode's focused monster. It's not long before he catches you staring, however, but instead of a sneering quip, he instead gets flustered and turns his head back at the screen.

"So... uh," he starts, still trying to find what he wants to say, although his eyes are still glued to the screen, albeit unfocused.

"For... today. Thanks."

"If it's for looking after your brother, there's no need to thank me. It was fun."

"No, not only that. In truth, I was worried he wouldn't open up to you, and, well..." he breathes in, finally turning to face you. "I didn't like the idea of you two not getting along, I guess."

"Hey, I already told you, kids love me! ...I think," you say. It's light, but you hear a semblance of a laugh escaping him. "Plus, I got to learn a little bit more about you, too!"

"Hm? Like what?"

"Well... I got to meet your favorite horse - he's really pretty, by the way."

"Ah, so you've met Faust. Yes, he is a stunner, befitting only of someone such as myself," he huffs in pride.

"Speaking of, you should totally teach me how to horseback. Your little brother kinda got me intrigued."

He pauses for a moment, as if in thought. "I suppose that's not an... unfavorable idea. I'll consider it."

You're a little surprised, not expecting him to agree, but at the same time, you realize it was his own way of attempting to get closer to you. Recalling what his little brother said that afternoon, you decide to push your luck a little bit further.

"I uh... also learned that despite how you act, you're always looking out for me," it's your turn to avert your gaze, thankful that the room's dimness was enough to hide the pink tinge on your cheeks.

"Wha-ugh... He told you, didn't he..." the giggle you let out in response is light, almost inaudible with the show's ending song playing in the background.

"I think it's quite endearing," you assure him. "I mean, the brothers already try their best to make sure I'm always safe, so knowing you go out of your way to do so too, regardless... It's a nice feeling. Thanks, Mephisto."

"Y-Yeah..."

Silence envelops the two of you again, this time completely, as the screen in front of you fades to black, signifying the episode's end. Carefully, you shuffle yourself a little closer to him, and you take it as an invitation to go further when all he does is look at you quietly.

Wordlessly, you lean your head against his shoulder, softly breathing in the remnants of his perfume from earlier in the day; a comforting scent compounded with Mephisto's natural one. He stiffens at your action, but almost immediately relaxes himself, his hand finding yours under the sheets. His hand is chilly, you think, the demon obviously nervous, but you urge him to continue by letting out a gentle hum of assurance and giving his hand a quick squeeze.

"Hey, Meph?" you whisper, leaning yourself closer to him.

"Hm?" you can feel his head turn to look down on yours.

"I like you."

"Ah... I--" he's breathless, despite already seeing the confession coming. He's thankful the darkness is hiding his extremely flushed face, but he's unsure if you can hear how loud his heart is beating.

"I like you too."

You giggle lightly, squeezing his hand again, this time, a bit warmer. You feel him squeeze back, as you feel yourself starting to drift off to sleep.

"I know."

You're unaware of it, but as he hears your breathing relax and as your body naturally leans a bit more towards him, he's smiling at your form softly, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Sleep tight."

-

Devilgram, the next morning

@ minimephisto : [img attached of you and mephisto sleeping, your head leaning against his chest, his head rested atop yours] my big brother and my favorite babysitter are so cute together! ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♡

see all replies (20)

mammoney : hey! what the hell! get that bastard away from my human!

lucifer : language, mammon. mephistopheles, i will deal with you myself.

asmobaby : awwww! look at those lovebirds ♡

stn : you're not helping, asmo

-

thank you for reading! my asks are also open if anyone would like to request something. ofc, there's no guarantee that i'll do it (haha) but i'd love to hear suggestions :>

[starfirette]

School Reunion

He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason...

...especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him. His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side...

❇Tenth Doctor x Fem Reader

❇hmmmm this took a month to perfect! I shall page @bellaswansrealgf because this does indeed have a size kink portion :)) this is cross posted to my ao3 (username is the same if you want to check that out!)

❇ masterlist | 17+ | size kink goes brr | cheeky Tenth doctor | "Mr Smith" | Sexual Roleplay | Vaginal Fingering | Penis In Vagina Sex | Age Difference kinda technically | this word is so gross but I have to put it in the tags Squirting | Also some degradation | Overstimulation | Creampie | switchy Tenth doctor, but he's a dom rn | Older Man/Younger Woman and teacher student vibes but also not really

You were the illustrious and young English teacher, and he was the older, more experienced Physics teacher.

But it had only been a game. It was the ruse for a job at some school.

Of course you had "just" graduated college; you needed a guided hand to show you how to handle those rowdy students. "Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, thighs clenched and heart beating in anticipation. 

"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' had said. His hand is ruffling up the chiffon of your knee length skirt. "You're so needy for attention. You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher." 

You wouldn't yet go into further detail of what conspired that day. After all, it was a little bit inappropriate of you two to do such fooling around during the hours of an investigation. Rose would have been livid to know that while she was slinging chips and pizza to students and staff, you and the Doctor were rather preoccupied with teaching not the students but yourselves just how Miss [L/n] and Mr Smith ought to behave. 

Of course, the roleplay was divine. Mr Smith was a role that the Doctor deeply enjoyed to act with, especially when it came to shamelessly flirting with you as if he didn't know you. You suspect he had all his fun that way. 

Apart from the canoodling in the workplace, everything else was really a ruse. The way it all started is a little bit convulated, but Rose heard from Mickey who must have heard from someone else that strange things were going on back in her hometime. (Hometime was a bit of a private joke between you, Rose, and the Doctor, it's a play on the word hometown! You and the Doctor fight for the credit of who actually coined the term but Rose often sides with the argument that you truly did.) The Doctor went into full dramatic effect, as he tends to do, and he created you a full fledged identity and a college degree. In real life (for lack of a better term)you're almost done with college where you're honestly pursuing a degree for English Literature.

The Doctor surprised you with the position at this school. Albeit it's undercover, he wanted you to have some fun. His face lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree when he saw how excited you were. Granted, this was a far cry from being an English professor at a prestigious university, as you drunkenly confessed to his prior face while celebrating the win against the nanogenes during the second World War. Though he looked different then,  he still loved you with the same, big heart. 

Hearts. 

Force of habit. 

Day One of the mission was the easiest mostly because day one didn't require real work. Rose helped you research the winning numbers for some lottery tickets. She dropped off two winning tickets at the homes of a couple teachers from the school: one from the Mathematics department, one from the Literature. 

Needless to say both resigned in an instant. Unfortunately this sparked nasty rumors which accounted the two teachers (who really didn't know one another at all) were having an affair. Well, so long as they enjoyed the money. And since neither of their spouse's seemed to believe these rumors, you supposed there was no real harm done. 

Day two consisted of applying for the jobs and actually getting them. The interview process went well. You interviewed with the superintendent who claimed the headmaster was busy. 

'This isn't fair,' Rose said. 'I want to be a teacher.' 

'You'd look so cute as the lady administrator,' you pointed out from the sofa of the Tardis common room. 'You could wear fake specs. Y'know, look over them and give students dirty looks. Type obnoxiously on your clunky laptop. It's such a shame mini iPads weren't invented sooner. I'd look soooo cute carrying mine around.'

Rose groaned theatrically as she collapsed onto the sofa. She rolled on top of your lap, pushing the remote out of your hands so you could pay attention to her. 'Tell your boyfriend to make me a teacher,' Rose indignantly said.  Her nose scrunched as you shifted your thigh to push her off. 

'My hands are full,' The Doctor said through a mouthful of snack food. He tossed a sprinkle of crumbs at Rose, consequently catching some on your lap. You shoved his face with mock disregard. 'You mean your hands are tied,' you corrected.

'Sure,' he said, 'that too.' 

The start of day three. You dressed in a knee length skirt with pointy flats and a smart looking blazer. You decided to forgo a pair of fake specs (though you were known to occasionally need a pair of real lenses ever since a strange trip with your blue-eyed, prominent-nosed Doctor to an interesting laser show which had some nasty effects on your eyes; it was some sort of festival on Mars in the year 3000). As you walked down the hall to your class room the Doctor walked past, heading the opposite way to the Mathematics department. He sent a prolonged look up and down your outfit. 

"Hello, Mr Smith," you said curtly. You had to fight the grin that tussled with your lips. You enjoyed playing your role too, too much.

Mr Smith uncharacteristically fumbled over his feet as he looked over his shoulder to meticulously study the way your bum and hips moved as you went about your merry way. Needless to say this is when he decided to amp up his game. 

The children in your classroom couldn't have been older than fourteen. You didn't expect anything outwardly startling at this point, because you didn't yet realize the secrets this school held. 

You took a look at the lesson plan the students had been going through before their previous teacher took a miracle vacation to Sicily to renew their marriage vows.

Good for them. 

"Who would like to examine the motifs of this scene?" you asked. You were picking through a bit of Macbeth. A beginning scene with the three witches; it should be easy enough. How typcal to have stumbled upon their Shakespeare unit. An obligatory staple of middle school. Or highschool. Whatever grade these kids are in. You tried thinking of it in terms of Harry Potter; are they fifth years? Harry Potter was certainly fifteen during Order of the Phoenix. 

You contemplated this as no one actually tried discussing Macbeth. 

"Would anyone like to mention anything?" Your attempts to get them talking was dismal. Perhaps they missed their old teacher. You felt a little guilty. Even more guilt poured in you when you obnoxiously thought that their old teacher wasn't missing them, not while they were having a second honeymoon in Sicily!

"Anything?" 

You could have heard an eyelash drop in that room. 

"Going on about motif, it's rather interesting that when Macbeth enters, he notes...? What does he say that directly links him to the witches? Oh, goodness, I've lost my place...'So foul and fair a day I have not seen.' Does anyone remember what the three witches say in the opening scene?"

Finally a hand is raised.

You want to thank the kid profusely as you call on her. "What's your name?" 

"Addie Jones," the girl said. 

"Wonderful! Nice to meet you, Miss Addie. Do you remember the line?" 

"'Fair is foul and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air.'" 

"Excellent," you tell her with a smile. "Not only does this line set the overarching theme for the story, it also is a neat trick Shakespeare put in. Macbeth enters a few scenes later and by repeating their words, he's effectively sealed his own fate. This is a pretty good example of a motif. Does anyone know what a motif is?" You scanned the room, hoping for another arm to pop up, but Addie's hand waved shyly in your sight. You understood, then, why teachers threatened to call on students at random. You'd threaten that yourself if you knew anyone else's name. Besides, Addie seemed eager enough to share her answer. "Addie!" 

"A motif is a series of repeated patterns, often dialogue or imagery, in literature used to further a narrative." 

Whoa. 

"Great answer," you told Addie, a sincere smile capturing your lips. "Given that definition, can anyone find other motifs in the play?"

Addie raised her hand. 

"Does anyone other than Addie have an idea?" you tried. To no avail, you nodded at Addie. You took a seat behind your desk, grabbing a pen to jot down a forethought about Harry Potter. 

Addie took a loud and deep breath. "Another integral motif in the play is sleep. Banquo states, act two scene one, 'And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers restrain in me cursed thoughts that nature gives way to response.' Act two, scene two, Macbeth by now has killed the king. 'There's one did sleep laugh in's sleep, and one cried Murder!' 14 lines later, same scene, Macbeth then says, 'Methought I heard a voice cry 'sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep. The innocent sleep, sleep which knits-,'"

You were extremely puzzled. You tried to gently interupt Addie's train of thought, which seemed to be more than just reading directly from her book than actually answering your question. Taking a stand, your flats smacking the linoleum floor, you strolled back to the front of the classroom, your lesson plan in hand. You caught a glance at Addie's desk. Wherein you'd been expecting to see her fingers eagerly scanning along the pages of her open book, you found that her textbook was rather shut, her hands clasped atop it as she waited for you to say something. 

Blinking in surprise, you looked back at the lesson plan. You skimmed through a couple pages. Just when did they begin studying this play? That thought was muting all of your prior Harry Potter saga theories. Only at the start of the week...and they were only assigned an at home reading for the first four scenes. 

Perhaps Addie liked to read. Perhaps she enjoyed Macbeth so very much that she chose to memorize the entire damn play.

You hadn't seen any notes marking Addie's remarkable abilities in the subject, so you wondered on about how she could have done such a quick study of the play. "He certainly prattles on about sleep, doesn't he?" you asked Addie, who grinned toothily and nervously. "What do you think it means?" you continued as you hugged the lesson plan to your chest. 

That smile faded. "Oh. I'm not sure." Addie, who had memorized all the lines and their scenes regarding 'sleep', was at a loss for words. 

You felt a little bit guilty to find that she seemed incredibly embarrassed to be without an answer. You didn't necessarily care, but you wanted to probe for more answers. "Want to venture a guess? Why do you think sleep is so important here? What might it symbolize?" 

Addie went red in the face. She played with the edges of her textbook. Her nails pulled apart the layers of the hard cover, flaking specks of cardboard across her desk. 

"We could ask ourselves what a literary symbol is," you continued, quickly trying to move on before Addie could explode. "What's a symbol in literature? Maybe someone aside from Addie?" 

You sighed. Defeated again. Tomorrow you'd have to try harder. "Alright, Addie, take it away." 

After taking a breath of relief, Addie prattled away, "A symbol in literature is one of the literary devices that an author might use to convey a hidden message or theme. Symbols often are represented through objects or ideas that serve with a literal purpose but have metaphorical meaning which furthers the narrative, much like a motif." 

Puzzled by her in depth definition all you could really do was nod in response. 'That's correct," you informed her. Though it was far too correct. It didn't sound at all like the answer of a thirteen year old girl. It sounded like a line from a thesis paper or even from some dictionary. Her knowledge us certainly expansive but robotic in nature. She can identify patterns, like motifs and sleep and what not, but she can't analyze their meaning. 

You frowned. More accurately, she couldn't form her own thoughts on the subject matter. 

During lunch break, you searched the cafeteria for the Doctor. You went through the line, declining food after food. You made a scene of asking Rose for an apple, and then  you leaned in close as she handed it to you. "I found something a little bit strange. Sweet girl in my class basically memorized her English textbook. She might as well have memorized mine. Have you seen him?" 

Rose's brow twitched with contempt. "No," she said sharply. "Fuck 'im, really, I'm stuck back here slinging chips at bratty kids and he's off doing who knows w-oh, there he is." She pointed him out in the crowd of students, the man sitting at a table and picking apart a turkey and cheese sandwich layer by layer. "He's bein' weird again," Rose snickered. The Doctor smelled one slice of bread. "Oh, God, go stop him. I can't watch him deface himself like this. Wait, take your apple, now. If I was working on commission then you'd be of no use to me. That's right, take some milk, too. Not the skim, you daft. That's basically water. Take the two percent." 

You tried to juggle the milk and apple that Rose had tossed in your arms as you sped walked towards the Doctor. You dropped the apple on the table as you took a seat in front of him. His nimble fingers dropped the bread in a split second and he eyed you close. "I've got something," you said. 

"Ah, ah," the Doctor said sharply with a wag of his finger. "I don't even know you and you're going to sit down, without even asking, and try and engage in conversation? Tsk. You naughty thing." 

You rolled your eyes. "It's nice to meet you," you told him, playing into his game. "I'm Y/n L/n, yada yada. Anyways. Girl in my class-"

He shook his head. "Nope. You didn't ask my name." 

"I know your name," you mocked his tone. "We met at the staff meeting." 

"How do I know you actually remember it?" the Doctor challenged you. "Go on, just ask my name!" He looked much too amused as you angrily peeled open the cap to your milk. 

"What's your name," you therefore said monotonously, trying to void the words of any inquiring tone. 

"John Smith, physics professor. I'm single, by the way." 

"Anyway! Girl in my class! Basically memorized the entire textbook. She had an answer for most of the questions. However, those answers were all...materialistic. I don't know how to describe it. She didn't know how to input her own thoughts. It was like she just downloaded all the information to her brain. Does that make sense?" 

The Doctor nodded. "I've had a similar experience. Kid in my own class has knowledge way beyond planet earth." He pushed his plate of food forward. "Try some."

"No, thanks," you said politely. "I'm not very hungry. Something about this food weirds me out," you drawled as you poked his lightly tousled food around. He was more sampling everything rather than eating. "I've always hated school food. The chips look...odd. The smell of them is somehow off. Does that make any sense?"

"Come with me," the Doctor responded, not saying anything to your earlier rebuttals regarding the school food. "Toss that, I'm not going to eat it," he added. He took the tray and dumped it. You followed behind him as he slid his tray with the other dirty ones. Rose sent him a glare so foul you were surprised he didn't collapse on the spot. A glare like that could make him regenerate. "Found anything strange?"you ask Rose before she and the Doctor can get into a cat fight, an occurrence which frequents the TARDIS.

Rose gossiped, "Half the kitchen staff got replaced not too long ago. And this lot are weird. Get this! The entire lunch menu has been designed by the headmaster himself. What qualifies him to even do that? Don't you have to study...nutrition?" Rose shook her blonde fringe from her milk chocolate eyes. A flare of mischief came in her eyes. "I bet he didn't."

"Is nutrition a course of study? Actually, it is, isn't it? Oh, Rose you should be a nutritionist!" You said gleefully. 

The Doctor sighed. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to keep up with his two companions.

"Oh, shush," Rose chided to you. "The point is we've been at this for three days! We don't even know what's going on. More like you two don't even know what's going on. I've done my part! I reported back to you an' all!" She looked at you both with arms folded across her chest and her eyebrows raised indignantly. She licked her lower lip in a dare for you or the Doctor to argue back, her chocolate-brown eyes strangely malicious. "That's right, isn't it? You've got nothin' to say but-"

"Stop yelling at us!" The Doctor finally dished back. He seemed irritated beyond his senses, which was typical of him. "Your boyfriend is the one who called us."

Rose's mouth quivered at the term. Her lips opened and closed as though she was a fish out of water. "Mickey's not my--hang on a minute, where are you two going?" she finally demanded as the Doctor started to manhandle you. You looked vaguely surprised, staring at him with incredulity. 

"Research!" the Doctor called without looking as he kept his deft fingers tightly wound on your wrist. "We've get a lead!"

You struggled to let her know as he escorted you away. 

The halls were empty as the Doctor pulled you contently down the Mathematics hall. His classroom was certainly empty, all students eating their lunch for the next thirty or so minutes. 

"Show me what you've got," you told him excitedly as he turned the lock on the door. You looked around eagerly for whatever gadget or gizmo he was going to produce. You waited for another moment before you watched with curiosity as the Doctor settled himself easily on the edge of his desk.  "Where is it?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor countered, crossing his arms with some semblance of an attitude.  You mimicked the pressing of a sonic screwdriver. "Where's the...gizmo...aren't you going to sonic something?" 

"Oh. No gizmo," the Doctor said. "Not this time. Well, not right now, actually, I'm sure I'll sonic some sort of gizmo sometime soon. No, I actually wanted this time for ourselves. I'm not fond of your attitude, Miss L/n." 

You raised a brow. "My attitude?" 

The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. Your behavior has been nothing short of abysmal. Neglecting me, running about with Rose, and entirely disregarding your duties here. I supplied you with a title of superiority and you have sorely misused it. There's only one word to describe you these past two days." 

For a brief moment your heart stuttered with genuine fear, but then you watched the sparks which flickered in his hazel brown eyes burst into a large flame. 

"Naughty." 

You barked a laugh. You put a hand over your fast beating heart. "That's not funny," you chastised. "I thought you were being serious!"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 

No going back now. Not with the rapid pooling of warmth in the bottom of your belly. The Doctor shook his head, tutting his tongue as he folded his arms. 

He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason; especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him. 

His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side with a not so quiet splash of kinky foreplay. There were zero hints of that face in this one, and the first time you saw it you didn't know what quite to think. 

The Doctor had burst into a bright, ball of golden light. Spheres, marble sized, of such light fizzled around him, orbiting his figure while Rose gripped your hand. Her fingers slipped on the fresh blood, making you wince as she slid over the fresh slice.  The fight against the Daleks had been the most important matter in all the world just moments ago. And now you felt as though...you were about to lose everything. 

Your mouth burned with the hard kiss the Doctor had given you. His tongue had meddled against yours, sweeping the roof of your mouth the way he knew you liked. His thumbs swiped away the tears that dotted the corners of your eyes, and just like that, he was saying goodbye. And then this. 

Dizzying rushes of blinking in and out of reality coursed through you. This almost felt like a dream. The image charading in front of you didn't seem right. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, afterall. You three were supposed to find Jack and go home, wherever 'home' was. No matter where home was, the day would always end with you laying on the Doctor's chest, ear to dual hearts while he played with your hair. 

And yet that wasn't how this was going to end. 

Rose gripped your hand tight. Your vision flickered with stars as her fingers slipped into the gash on your hand. Nausea punched you in the gut as the light grew brighter and brighter. Stop, you wanted to tell him. It's not funny. 

It wasn't funny at all. 

The energy surged, so loud you could almost hear it, you could practically feel it sizzling inside of you. Energy sang inside the TARDIS: the chime high and loud, the pitch far beyond any regular frequency. And God, it hurt. 

The ringing ascended frequency and finally it shut off as the Doctor cried out just a bit. 

The light disappeared. 

And so had your Doctor. 

You crept closer. 

He pushed his leg out, patting the top of his thigh. "Take a seat, Miss L/n," he sighed, making a point to sound disappointed. He would really be if you didn't play along! So you hopped up to take a seat, holding onto the back of his neck for leverage as you made yourself comfortable. 

It wasn't unusual for him to become unexpectedly horny, especially in the midst of a mission such as this. He was one for taking fortified risks. 

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked. 

"Just that I've been a very bad girl," you informed him with an exaggerated pout. You puckered your lower lip. "I just wanted your attention, Mr. Smith." 

"Consider it done. You've certainly caught my attention with this little garb," the Doctor said as he pushed a hand up your skirt. His lean fingers squeezed the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. The flash of quick pain on the easily bruised skin made your heart rush. Looking up at him, it was easy to spot the remnants of the other Doctor. Your first Doctor. 

Though his face has changed, and you love him all the same-if not more-he'll always have that face. 

"Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, stomach clenched with eager anticipation.

"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' said. His hand kneaded the jiggling flesh of your leg, pinching it and grinning at the way you wiggled in his grip. "You're so needy for attention," he cooed. "You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher." 

His mouth pressed against yours. Lips against lips, both soft as the petals of a flower, but clashing hard, as if you two had never kissed before! But kisses are less than few-and-far; they're frequent. They're the Doctor's favorite past time.

Even with this face you two spend nights in his study, laying in the chaise lounge, your ear against his chest and listening to his dual hearts. Even with this face do you two kiss passionately into the hours of the ambient night lights that the TARDIS has set for you. Your hands plucked at the buttons of his shirt.  His build was entirely different from the previous one he bore. Where then he'd been slightly bulkier with more muscle and mass, he was now slender, lithe, and graceful. He walked like a cat with cunning mischief on his mind. His deft fingers were slipping up your skirt, hooking across the band of your underwear and cheekily tugging them down as he pushed his thumbs into your hips.

He loved, loved, the curves of your body (he always had. It wasn't something that would ever change). He liked to grip the fleshy parts of you tight, squeeze and fondle any parts of you he could get his hands on.  You splayed your fingers out like a starfish, pushing your hand on his sternum just between both hearts. You could feel them both beating fast as his shirt drifted open,  framing his clavicle and abdomen like a picture. He couldn't be more gorgeous than this; freckles constellated his pale skin. The shades that stood out on his skin compared  to yours made your lips curl. The colors were like blots of paint on a pallet in the hands of an artist. 

Confidently, you believed that a painting with every shade your two bodies had to offer would outshine the Mona Lisa or Starry Night. 

The Doctor's hand crept below the threshold of your underwear. His thumb padded through the plush lips of your pussy, nudging at your pearled clit. "Not nearly as wet as I'd prefer," the Doctor chastised as he flexed his thumb in a circle on your clit, not bothering to start at a slow pace. The quick lashings of a hurried pleasure made your body tremble. Like a startled newborn you spasmed in his hold, nearly collapsing backwards. If he hadn't had an arm around your waist you would have made a fool of yourself. 

"Can't stay still?" The Doctor cooed. "The more I rub this little clit, the more wet that oozes out of you. That makes it so easy for me to simply..."

Your voice strained as the Doctor slowly pushed his middle finger inside of you. He moved slowly so that you could feel every bit of your cunt that he stretched out. For all the times you'd ever attempted to stick something inside of yourself, this really took the cake.

Every time you tried it just felt...like you were sticking something inside of yourself. Like there was just something inside a vaginal cavity; Just something inside that was vibrating.

Not sexy, nor pleasurable.

The amount of times you'd attempted to do gymnastics around your bedroom in your home time, stretching your legs or doing back bends, all to find the magical spot that the internet claimed existed. These exploits were all for naught.

Imagine how strange a feeling it was for you to be proven wrong by the Doctor. You swore up and down there was something wrong, something maybe even broken, but no matter what, you just didn't have what other women suspiciously claimed to have. Well, the Doctor loves to prove others wrong. You can imagine how that first night went, with him grinning down at you and touching both the inside and outside of you at once to bring about a genre of pleasure you hadn't realized existed. 

You gnawed on your lip as the Doctor slowly pushed a second digit inside, still tending to your clit to keep the feeling from being too uncomfortable. "It's alright," the Doctor said softly. He shifted his body, making a swift stand as he set you on the desk and settled between your legs, without removing his hand from you at all.  He widened the gap between your legs so your knees laid hip length apart. His tall figure stood straight as he looked down at your cunt which dropped over his hand. 

"And there it is," he sighed. "You're taking it like a good girl, aren't you? Even though we're in a school. A learning facility. Have you no shame?" 

Whether or not he wanted an answer, you couldn't say. Your vision was blurry as he pumped up into a secret place inside of you while also stimulating your clit. The small bundle of nerves was pulsating, having become a bulbous bud of despair and anxiety. It tensed and twitched under every touch but ultimately it yearned for more. You kept tensing around his fingers, holding onto the lapels of his jacket tight. 

The Doctor looked down at you. He smirked. 

"You're holding onto me with quite a strong grip. Afraid I'll pull away? Afraid I'll stop? Your cunt just keeps squeezing onto me. So hot and wet. So comforting. Don't you wish it was my cock?"

You panted out a reply, not bothering to sound witty or naughty. Not the time. "Yes."

A laugh. A genuine sound. The musical chime of it faded before the Doctor replied, "I do, too. But first I'll watch you cum on my fingers. It's alright. Door's all locked. My attention is entirely on you. You've been working so hard, so eager to please Mr Smith. Now you ought to let Mr Smith please you. Although...I should be punishing you. Shouldn't I? I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a real punishment, though. After all, you tend to enjoy it when  I spank your sweet ass."

The mere words sent the images into your brain. The thought of it made your pussy flinch, and the Doctor laughed again though this time round it was a touch harsh sounding. "I knew you enjoyed it," he said quietly. He kissed your forehead, his lips curled into a smile as he did so. "It's alright, dear, it's only me. You can be honest. I quite like it. Oh, my, you're dripping all the way onto my wrist!" 

He feigned annoyance. "Just look...look at this mess you're making."

You dared to take a look. 

A small gasp choked in your throat, the sound making the Doctor chuckle. The muscles of your thighs twitched. The knee length skirt was thrown back so you were sitting bare assed on the cool desk, the skirt gathered around your hips. Your panties were stuffed in the Doctor's trouser pockets: you could see them sticking out. When had he done that?

The tendons in his wrist were flexing as he thrust his two fingers up and in, while his thumb angled upwards to continue the steady pace on your clit. The lazy rhythm which he had set was making you sweat. He didn't seem terribly bothered by the writhing around you were doing.

"Don't you like the sight of it?" The Doctor's content was evident in the way he spoke, looking at the mess with a dreamy sparkle in his eye. 

He appeared visibly intoxicated as a long and loud 'mmm' escaped you. You had a difficult time remembering that the sounds were your own; you didn't always feel physically mounted in your body during your horny escapades. Sometimes the thrall of an orgasm separated your physical self from your metaphysical self like the whites and yolk of an egg. You were being gradually poured apart with every furthering motion the Doctor made. Joules of an intense pleasure rumbled inside of you. Your stomach had a slippery feeling, like a pad of hot butter on a skillet, fuzzy and warm and enticing. 

Your legs jerked around, ankles flanking into the back of his thighs and effectively pulling him closer. He was trapped between your legs-just the way he liked. 

Tension unfurled in your shoulders, slipping away like drops of rain on a window pain. It tingled down your back and you tilted away, Your chin raising towards the ceiling as one of your hands roughly gripped the edge of Mr Smith's desk. Anchored to the British classroom of 2005, you started to feel the edges of a smooth and velvety orgasm close in on you. It was a feeling that couldn't be physically embodied by much else than a velvet ribbon, or a warm vanilla latte, or-

"Fuck!" You whined. "It's-"

The Doctor pushed the familiar feeling forward. It was an intensity that you could only ever feel with the Doctor, with his hand or his cock or his anything. It no longer mattered that the year was 2005; the pressure on your clit felt nothing short of a pulsing burst of energy and fire. Gold fizzled in your vision. Your cunt felt heavy. Something tickled behind your bladder, the feeling making you beg. "Doctor, wait!" You urged him as you pawed at his torso. "I think I'll-"

"That's what I want," the Doctor muttered. "Don't worry, darling, I'll take good care of you. It's alright. Just keep squirming like that and let me rub your pussy to completion. Don't tire yourself-I want to feel you with my cock, too, so just relax and enjoy it. Can't you try?"

The urge to clench your walls and even the muscles around your clit was hard to fight. But when you did, it allowed an enormous wave of pleasure to drown you. You tremored and babbled a string of incoherent words. Some kind of begging, you think, or perhaps declarations of love, hatred, or anything in between. Passions had built up inside you and now  they're spilling out like the waters from a broken dam. Judging by the bleary grins of content through your teary eyes, you were praising him to high ends. Likely spilling out your love for him and his hands. 

Pressure started to release as the gradual high came about. It wasn't an overt transition from pleasure to climax; it was never black and white, it was a grey scale that slowly blossomed to a bright gold and silver.  Weight transpired from the top of your head to your torso and then to your belly. It sank low, behind your ovaries. A heavy, swollen sensation was hanging right over you, taunting the burst of energy that would soon make a mess over the Doctor's hand and shirt. You feared the worst as you pathetically tried to wiggle your hips around. You were so close to that feeling. If you just pushed yourself a little bit more than you could reach it. 

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're about to cum all over me," the Doctor murmured in a harsh tone. "That's repulsive. That's so human of you. It's disgustingly easy to make you leak with just a hand."

You buried your face into the chest of the Doctor, trying not to be too loud with the whimpers and shallow breaths you were releasing as though you were a television woman in labor. 

Babbling out vowels, your entire body released a burst of warmth; like pink ribbons and fresh croissants and the tops of your thighs after you sat by a bonfire. The convulsed through you as that swollen feeling finally burst, indeed making a mess on the Doctor as you feared. 

You looked down at yourself in shock. A grim sense of shame started to take over the pink-flakey-croissant-bonfires-with-Rose feeling. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice a cracking piece of foil as the Doctor licked the corner of his mouth. He quickly licked his fingers clean before shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he said as he quickly moved his fingers to the button of his pants. "It was quite a learning experience, I should say. I learned that you are a very cute, young, little cunt in desperate need of an older, wiser cock. I'm just going to give you what you want. You don't have anything otherwise to say. I know you don't."

You shook your head as you watched the Doctor palm himself. His bulge was prominent and you had to restrain a whimper as he pulled back the boxer briefs he wore, which you insisted on because he wanted to wear boxers, but you found boxer briefs undeniably sexy, and so he wore them; he couldn't exactly do otherwise when the Tardis was replacing his go to wardrobe with other garments--it was totally accidental the way the Tardis now listened to your opinion before his. But he couldn't deny: blood runs thicker than water. And your blood had sizzled on the heart of the beloved Tards. So yeah, sometimes the Tardis chose to play Christmas music when it was only November (according to the earth-calendar programmed into the mainframe, but that was also another story). 

You pulled him down by the scruff of his neck, forcing him to kiss you as he played with himself. Your sloppy kiss was all tongue against tongue, open mouthed groans into one another as you guided his hand up and down on himself. 

Now leaking precum, he smothered himself   In the lubricant and thumbed the slit of his cock, a clenched-teeth hiss escaping himself as you urged him to prepare. But the Doctor likes to edge himself; he likes the discomfort of wanting to chase an orgasm, the self control it required to ignore the body's instinct. 

"Come closer," he groaned against you. His forehead rested on yours. You both watched him pump his cock a few more times; your chest was rising and falling as hard as his. 

He guided himself inside you, kissing your forehead as he slowly inched forward. The brief discomfort as he pushed past the curve of your walls was strictly rewritten into a song of bliss. Mint green paint, fresh croissants with oozing chocolate, an open campsite by the sizzling fire. 

He hunched over your little figure; he was completely towering atop you, the size of a dire wolf pinning a rabbit against his own torso. He grunted as he pulled himself out only to slam his way back in, the motion making you feel full and heavy. 

He worked his hips to thrust in and out of you, pulling himself practically to the tip each time. His hand was tending to your clit as he moved. Each touch on your clit felt like torture, in the best sense. You already felt swollen and every touch was amplified. The starts of a new orgasm made you tired and shudder, your mouth desperate for water as it worked its way through your body. 

"You're so small," the Doctor huffed through a laugh as your figure jerked with each thrust. You were trapped against his torso, feeling the doubly beat of his hearts pounding as he plowed in and out of you. "So pliable," he added as he groped the side of your thigh exposed by the wrinkled fabric of your skirt. "So hot and tight while I have my way with you. You couldn't help yourself. You just had to be fucked right now, just like this. Always needing my attention, always, always. I never thought you'd be so bratty in public! I like it."

"Stop talking," you groaned. "That's all you ever do. Talk, talk, talk. I think you like that, more." 

The Doctor gripped your chin, slowing his movements down. His hand skittered away from your clit but you were quick to pin it in place. You pushed one of your fingers inside of his mouth, watching him pucker his lips around the digit and sucking. His thick eyelashes fluttered before he jerked his head back. "Not your turn, princess," he sneered. "I'm in charge right now." 

"You like when I'm in charge, too," you retorted. "You could just give up, you know." 

The Doctor once again groped at you, squeezing hard on your pebbled nipples with a growl of warning. "Not the time," he told you with a rough thrust up. It made you gasp and heel over as the spotlight of sudden pleasure shone over you; the Doctor smirked as he carefully weened his way back into a quicker pace than he had been previously going at. "Don't you dare stop," you pleaded as you gripped him by the collar of his button down. "Or you're in for a load of trouble when we get home." The Doctor's brown eyes twinkled at the idea: home on the Tardis, being straddled and used by you, it sounded like a marvelous plan. 

"I'm not the one who's about to get a load," the Doctor said, grinning at the gross slang, but he was unable to really care because your cheeks had tears dripping down them. "Can't wait to see how full you become. I'll be dripping down your legs the rest of the day." 

"Shut up," you whimpered as you tilted your head back. 

Honestly speaking you quite enjoyed his babbling chit chat. He really did like to hear himself talk. You liked it as well. 

"Make me." 

You two pressed your mouths into a rough mold, your tongues slithering over tips and teeth. Your arms wrapped over the back of his neck, locking him in place. His chuckles dripped down your throat as he vocalized his own pleasure. Your breathing hastened. Panting like a dog in the summer heat, you were kissing him back as if it were a fight for your life. You clenched all your body into a rigid stake as the peak of the orgasm finally prodded into your cunt. The Doctor's hands pressed into your hips and legs, his thumbs rubbing calming circles into you as he moaned. He was much more accepting of the pleasure wave as it rode through him. 

Hiccuping whimpers fluttered into the Doctor's mouth as your slick, wet released. The feeling made the Doctor groan, loud and strong as he finally released the gates of his own seed. He grunted as he made sloppy thrusts; cum mixed and squeezed out of you like the lemon custard in a powdered donut, a rare, sweet, tart taste that made your eyes water. 

Your mouths pulled apart with a loud smack. You both looked down at the mess. He pumped in and out a few times, hissing as you suckled a bite on the underside of his jaw. You cried out a curse as he swiftly pulled out and gripped his cock, the limb still half hard. He pushed the tip of himself against your clit, making a harsh circle so your bodies both shuddered. "Too much," he said between clenched teeth. He released a breath as final spurts of his seed painted on the lips of your pussy. 

The strain on his chest eased. 

The Doctor swayed forward. His face lulled into a lazy grin, tucking itself within the crook of your neck. Carefully exhaling your last deep breath, you slid back so you were laying face up, looking at the ceiling as the Doctor remained curled atop you. He hummed with content, rubbing his hand over the soft skin of your pelvis. Your skirt was still flipped up; his pants were unbuttoned. 

Panting. The fluorescent lights seemed so homely in the aftershocks of this feeling. Left over in your core was the tingling of the orgasmic pain on your clit, now soft and bruised, but for good reason. 

"I really think there's something strange going on," you mentioned after a few minutes of calm silence. You softly scratched his scalp, combing through his soft hair while he purred at the feeling, reminding you of a cat. "This school seems off." 

"I'm tired," the Doctor said. "Work seems boring, now." 

"It's life or death," you pointed out. 

"Is it?"

"You're just fucked out, aren't you?" you pointed out again but with a laugh this time. 

"Yeah, you're probably right...probably." 

"I'm always right," you informed him. "The sooner you realize that, the easier your life will be."