#when in magic coat form

[hikolu]

BOLT MAKES ROBOT HORSE NOISES!

[the-ipre]

starting my sixth (?) dead boy detectives rewatch and very fun how charles also seems to have extradimensional pockets because he draws his cricket bat out from his inner coat pocket. also the way their clothes sizzle at the iron makes me wonder how much it is actually A Part of them as a projection of their Ghostly Self

[thestuffedalligator]

When ogres travel, they do so in human shape.

They hate doing this. They think it’s beneath them. But they do it anyway.

The Vicomte Graoul de Saucisson – and this is another thing about ogres. Ogres as a species are nobility. There is no such thing as a low-born ogre. There is always room in the ogrish peerage for another vicomte, another prince, another branch to tie to the rotted tree – strode up to the chateau in human shape. The roses in the garden shivered as he passed by. The huge, high doors opened by themselves and he walked through them without a shift in his stride.

When the doors slammed shut behind him, he moved to shrug the shape off his shoulders like a coat.

Then he saw the woman.

He froze. He stared. She stared back.

He slowly pulled the shape back on. “Who are you?” he asked.

She looked mildly appalled. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing in my home?”

“Your home? This is–” He stopped. He reconsidered. “I am the Vicomte de Saucisson,” he said. “I’m looking for the Marquis de Pamplemousse. He is a… colleague of mine.”

“Oh,” she said. She could’ve looked more abashed. “I’m sorry, monsieur, he’s never mentioned you before. You must be here to share your congratulations, of course, I can fetch him right away.”

“He’s never mentioned you either,” the vicomte did not say. “Of course,” he said. “Congratulations. What about?”

She seemed surprised. “Have you not heard? Monsieur, the curse on my husband has been lifted.”

He stared. His lips started to form the words “What curse,” and then there was a sound like a horse falling down a set of stairs and a man he had never seen before wearing the marquis’s clothes came barrelling down the hall.

“Vicomte!” said the man with the marquis’s voice. “My human friend! The curse has been lifted, and I am a human once again!”

He was slightly out of breath when he reached the woman. He clasped her arm and grinned at him with manic desperation. “This is wonderful news! You must be here to share your congratulations!”

“Lie like hell,” said the man’s eyes.

The vicomte stared. “Oh!” he said. “My – human friend! Human once again! Words fail me. After all these–” (there was the slightest hesitation) “–years?”

The woman put her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes at him.

The man walked up, still grinning like a rictus chimpanzee, and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, of course! Darling, me and the vicomte are going to have a manly one-on-one conversation while he shares his congratulations, as we human men are wont to do.” And then with a strength that could only be ogrish, the marquis pulled the vicomte by the shoulder down the hall and into a drawing room.

When the bolt of the lock clicked into place behind them, the man wearing the marquis’s clothes visibly sagged.

“What the hell,” said the vicomte.

“You should’ve sent word ahead that you'd be coming today.”

“I never do.” He gesticulated and tried to conjure a single question out of the swarm buzzing in his brain. “What the hell is going on? Who was that? Why are you pretending to be human? What curse are we talking about?”

The marquis groaned and crumpled into a chair. As he did he shifted out of human shape, clothes magically tailoring themselves to contain his ogrish form, something like a moose and an orangutan.

“I had a moment of weakness.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a stroke?”

“I got married.”

“And that’s another thing–”

“Graoul, please.” He sighed and put his face in his talons. “Last winter a merchant broke into my home. He stole one of my roses, and in exchange I asked him to send me one of his daughters to be my bride.”

The vicomte nodded. This at least was a sacred and recognizable ogrish custom, and he did like to see the old ways in practice.

“And it was fine! It was perfectly lovely. She’s a wonderful woman, but one night I decided to put on a human shape to change things up in the bedroom, and she lost her mind! Started talking about how I was clearly an enchanted prince and that her love for me must’ve broken some curse and turned me human again! I had no idea how to tell her otherwise, and now I’ve done it for too long to back out.”

The vicomte stared. “Sorry,” he said. “You decided to turn into a human to spice things up in the bedroom, and that was the face you chose?”

The marquis growled. “If I knew I was going to be wearing it for the rest of my life I would’ve gone with something better.”

[yaksha-lover]

Someone New

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, Prefect,” he says.

“Azul.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not.”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”

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

“What are you thinking about?”

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

“I-I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”

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

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

“I’m just teasing you.”

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

Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you know about that?

“Earn their love??”

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

“Huh. Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.

“Hey MC.”

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

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

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

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

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

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

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Human men are fickle.”

You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you, my king.”

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

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

“What’s the occasion?”

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

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

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

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

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong, my child of man?”

Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.

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

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

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

[dark-moonlust]

Centaur’s Mate

Pairing: Centaur x human reader

Summary: you are traveling the valley when you meet your mate, a handsome and powerful centaur. You get pounded good, and taken back to his home. He’ll keep you forever.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit centaur smut, huge 🍆, magic to fit, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

The sun hung low in the sky, its shafts casting an amber glow over the wide, rolling plains. The vast valley stretched out in every direction, a feast for the eyes. The view certainly made up for your traveling all these days. It was a breathtaking place, serene and the perfect escape from every day life.

As you ascended a gentle hill, you saw him.

At first, he appeared like a dream, his form shimmering in the distance.

But as you walked closer, you realized it was a centaur—a centaur!

Standing tall and majestic, the fading light cast shadows upon his massive form. His upper body was that of a powerful man, his shoulders wide, his chest broad, his arms muscular and toned. His lower half, however, was that of a sleek, strong horse, its coat a glossy chestnut brown.

Eyes as brown as the coffee bore into yours and took your breath away. There was something in his gaze, in his towering presence and otherworldly beauty that awoke pleasure instead of fear. You should be running for your life yet you remained moveless, captivated.

The centaur approached you, his hooves tapping the ground.

“Little human,” he said, his voice deep and scratchy. “What brings you to my lands?”

“I… I am traveling,” you stammered, head rising to face him. Now that he was closer he was at least two heads taller than you. “Am I trespassing?”

“You are welcome here.” He smiled and that made your pulse quicken.

“Fate has brought you to me at last,” he said, a hand reaching out to caress your cheek. “You look tired, little one. Allow me to offer you some comfort.”

Before you could respond, he cupped your midsection and lifted you, bringing you against him. His hold was potent, his scent musky and woody. His fingers roamed your back, massaging the tender muscles while his scent willed your submission. You felt all warm and tingling, his scent was indeed intoxicating and you felt a strange connection spark between you.

You barely protested when your clothes were tugged away.

One by one, the centaur exposed you to him, his eyes kissing your exposed skin with hunger.

“You are beautiful, little traveller,” he murmured, his eyes gazing at your pert breasts, your soft tummy and between your legs. You rubbed your thighs together, your pussy slick and hot.

“Why? What’s happening?” you whispered, feeling more liquid warmth trickle down your thighs.

“You’re responding to me. As you should, my mate”, he said, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ve waited a long time for you.”

More wetness gathered in your cunt and you winced at the throbbing need that steadily spread all over your body. You leaned into him, whining softly when he kissed your dry mouth, his lips brushing yours languidly. You clutched his soft mane while his tongue slipped into your mouth and mated with yours. The kiss went on and on, and he slowly brought his hand between your thighs, working them open. You mumbled a weak protest against his lips but he swallowed it with his kisses.

His large hand nudged your legs, a calloused finger rubbing your poor needy clit, round and round while you blabbered in his mouth and begged him for more. The thick finger entered your pussy, curving deep inside. Gods, even his finger was as thick as a human dick. Your thoughts scattered when he added another, your juices more than enough to keep him going. Slick sounds resounded as he finger fucked you while kissing you hungrily.

“Yes, that’s right, such a good tight pussy,” he said, curving his long fingers inside you. “Feels good, doesn’t it, little human?”

“Hmn… feels so good.” You arched your back, pleading him to give you more.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his voice vibrating through you.

“I trust you.”

“Close your eyes, little mate.”

With a nod, you did as told. You felt him fingering you deep, his finger squelching lewdly. A tingly warmth followed as he stroked you deep but with care, murmuring under his breath, the words foreign to your ears. You winced a little and guessed he had added another finger.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered, his voice strained.

You blinked, welcoming the view of his beautiful face and then gazed down at where his fingers parted your pussy. Your eyes widened! You had taken four of his fingers inside you, your lips stretched wide and trickling slick juices. Desire pulsed, you saw him pull them out, a wet squelch echoing before he thrust them back in with ease.

“You did something, didn’t you?”

“Centaur magic.” He kissed your forehead. “I’d never put my mate in danger.”

You smiled. He was so sweet, while finger fucking you into oblivion.

“You’ll take my cock deep inside you, won’t you, love?” he drawled, his free hand pinching a tight pink nipple.

“Ahnnn yesssss, I’ll try.”

He groaned, deep and low as he lifted you and pumped his fingers even deeper. Your feet left the ground and wrapped around his horse shoulders. You clutched his strong arms for stability while he stroked your sensitive walls and kissed you. You came with a loud cry, wiggling your waist to ride his fingers deeper and faster. You felt him smile against your skin and gently, he set you on your feet.

Growling low, he moved you, his hooves pounding steadily on the ground. Strong human hands guided you to stand against a huge boulder, your feet firmly on the ground, palms flat against the stone. Positioning his great horse body behind you, he stretched as far as he could go, his front hooves settling way above your head. He bent a little to adjust your height difference, supporting his weight on his back hooves.

You shivered at the feel of someone so huge against your back. You looked back and down, your eyes widening at the cock rising from under his horse belly. It was at least the size of five of his fingers. The massive length jutted upwards, the flared head leaking with pre-cum— lots of it. His balls were huge and swollen, hanging heavily from between his horse legs. You licked your lips, wondering just how you’d feel taking that monster dick inside you.

"I can’t," you muttered, breathless. “Too big.”

“You can, little mate,” he said as his swollen cock rubbed against your pussy. “You took my fingers, you were made for me.”

Heat curled down your spine at what you were about to do. But the Centaur seemed to sense your worry, so he shifted a little just so he could slide his fingers over your leaking cunt.

“Drenched and ready,” he said huskily. “My magic protects your pretty pink cunt. Do not fear.”

“O… okay. Be gentle?”

“Always, my love.”

You held your breath when you felt his cock sliding across your entrance, your pussy hot and slick. His shaft pressed closer against you, his smell surrounding you; musky animal and masculine.

Gently, he entered you, the cockhead invading the tight slit of your pussy. You inhaled sharply, your jaw slackening as you felt him penetrate you, his powerful body invading your smaller one. The sensation was unbelievable, overwhelming. You expected to feel pain but only pleasure came. You gasped when he buried himself to the hilt.

You’d taken a massive centaur cock. You felt it throb inside you, causing your belly to puff up. The centaur turned even harder at the sight of your stomach and you hissed as the head of his cock kissed your cervix.

"Tight," he groaned. “My little mate with her perfect little cunny.”

“Wow,” you panted, feeling so stretched and full.

He fucked you slowly at first, his cock drawing out of your depths frothing with your juices. You were so wet and despite the extreme tightness, that allowed him to fuck you in steady surges. His pace soon picked up, his horse body moving against you, leaving you no choice but to take his invasion.

He buried himself over and over while his heavy balls bounced and hit your clit. Eyes shutting, you came hard around him, sweet climax rolling through you. He pumped even harder, growling like the beast he was, while you mewled and rocked with the power of his horse hips. With a defeating roar, he spurted inside you, his cock pulsing so strongly that you came again with violent aftershocks.

Load after load of cum exploded inside you, it was too much. It filled your belly, turned it even more round and trickled down your shaking legs. Sleepy and pleasantly fucked, you barely noticed as he turned you and strapped you to his body, securing you with strong but soft bindings. The hold on you was sturdy but didn’t hurt you at all. His cock was buried deep inside you, your cheeks cradled against his belly.

“I will take you to my home now, little mate,” he said fondly. “You will be safe with me, cherished, loved and well-fucked forever.”

[lovetei]

Okay, this have been on my mind for a while now…

So! MC in the manga is a sheep (get turn into a sheep because they aren’t familiar with the magic? Idk). I was just wondering that at the end of the exchange programme how would the boys react to Mc’s “true form”

This is such an interesting thing to write 🖤

By the way, this is another request stuck in my drafts, I promise I'll try to make up for it and post more :')

--------------------------------------------------

Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, no proofreading, wrong grammar, spelling errors, kind of long

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

It was the end of the exchange program and he's seeing you off

A large portal behind your back

For you, it might be the portal that will lead you to the freedom and whatever normality this program took away from you for a whole year

The portal that you've been waiting for

But for him, it's nothing but a spiral of magic that takes away the only comfort he has

The comfort that he seek for

And his twisted heart aches whenever he remembers it

But he hides it off with a smile and a wave

He waved at you one last time before you turned around

"Uhm... I feel weird-"

What?

The extreme feeling of despair left his body for a second and was covered with confusion

That soon turned into worry as your sheep form completely fell to the ground

The noises you're making is not normal and they're all panicking because they've never heard of it before

And the fact that you started glowing didn't ease their mind.

Could it be that some higher demon planted some spell inside of you?

IS THAT SPELL SUCCESFUL?!-

MC..?

He looked at you shock

No, more like-

He looked at your new form, shocked.

The way your naked body is laying on the ground right in front of him...

Right in front of them..?

He can't help but sigh and thought that, everything would have been fine, perfect even, if you turned into this form in front of him

But no, you just have to turn into your original self in front of everyone

Now he can't even embrace you.

All he did was take his coat off and throw it to your body as his face flush red.

You turned around to look at them as you clutch his coat with that adorable expression before you run off and enter the portal

He's left there, shocked and speechless

He didn't know what the hell just happened

But what's he's sure of is that he's going to get you back

And you're going to show that expression to him one more time

But that time, it will just be the two of you, alone.

MAMMON

This man is bawling his eyes out

His original plan is to watch you leave as he cries and once you're gone he will walk it off like a real man, with tear stains of course.

He set his mind to it, gambling for the whole week after you leave so that he can forget you

Even for just a moment

But no,

You won't even let him have the peace of mind

Or leave him with a nice memory

Instead your sheep body dropped to ground and made everyone think that you're about to die!

But you know what more you did?

You turned into a human!

Your human form!

Naked!

He went from 😭 -> 🤨 -> 😮 -> 😭 -> 😳 in a mere minute

He just stood there with a flushed face

A blushing dumbass who don't know what to do but watch as Lucifer threw his coat on you

And watch you run away with that cute expression, embarrassed expression on your face.

Gosh

You drive him insane

Now he's all fired up, willing to destroy the mortal world just to get you back in his arms.

LEVIATHAN

This one too is bawling his eyes out

While holding his camera of course

He's filming every part of this

He's standing there like "WAHHH MCCC! W-Wait is the angle r-right..? I need to capture how b-beautiful MC is..." while sobbing words out.

His hands are holding the camera shakily but the movement suddenly stopped when you said you feel weird...

His eyes shot open and his tears stopped

Are you okay..?

. . .

He's malfunctioning the moment you dropped to the ground and started to glow

And he malfunctioned even more when you turned into your human born, as naked as the moment you were born.

Now his sniper instincts came in and the camera is as focused as a laser

He's staring at you wide eyed, face as red as a tomato and his mouth agape

He doesn't know what's happening

But what he's sure of is that he needs to film it

Everything

The moment you grabbed Lucifer's coat and hugged it to cover yourself

And the moment you stood up and looked at them with that cute expression

But the moment you left, he hid the camera

This film is for his eyes only...

He's gonna need this for a 'project'...

And you know what else he needs?

Tissues.

SATAN

He's smiling everything off as he watches you leave

But you know deep down some anger is boiling

Considering how hot his pact mark is getting

Because, why do you have to leave..? Did he fail to satisfy your standards..?

He can't help but roll his eyes internally

But in the middle of his self talk, you spoke

"I kind of... Feel weird-"

And then you dropped to the ground and he's suddenly panicking

Any other feeling except for confusion flushed out of his body

He ran up to you immidiately but the light dimmed down and your naked body lay before him

He can't help stop in his tracks and just look at you and blush

Before he can even register anything, Lucifer's coat is already hugging your body

Which causes another wave of wrath to hit him

He just glared at Lucifer and saw that he's not even paying attention to him

He's looking at you

With a foreign expression in his face

So he also looked at you and...

Why the fuck did you have to look so majestic..?

You met his gaze and your face flushed before you ran out and entered the portal

He just remained still

Looking at the ground where you once sat

He can't move, he's shaking so much...

He feels like he's about to explode...

ASMODEUS

"WAHHH MCCC!" He whined out as he openly sobbed

He loves you so much!

Just why do you have to leave him!

He can't help but pout at you as you say your final goodbye

But what about him?

Why do you have to leave him too!

I mean it's understandable that you want to leave them because they're all such nuisances to you why him?!

He can't help it-

What do you mean you're feeling weird?

He's slowly walking to your direction

But you started to glow..?

Suddenly he's bearing his teeth expecting enemies around

Oh wait...

Oh...

You're...

Naked...

His mind is scrambled

He completely stopped working

And he'll probably be out of service for the next few days.

BEELZEBUB

He's probably standing there with Belphie in his arms

He's giving you his infamous puppy smile hoping that you'll give him what he wants

Hoping that you'll fall for it like the usual and ran up to him an dsay he's cute instead of leaving

But there's a part in his heart that knows you won't

He's sad and happy at the same time

He's happy because you'll finally live the way you do back then

But he's sad because you have to leave to do so...

Huh?

You're feeling weird..?

You're glowing, MC!

He's shaking Belphegor awake now

What's happening to you-

. . .

He'll be one of the most respectful and cover his eyes

But he's secretly peaking through the gaps

Your flushed face...

Looks so cute...

You look...

You looked delicious...

Just enough to eat...

Now he's hungry.

Hungry for something... New?

Something that includes you.

BELPHEGOR

He's awake actually

He watched everyone, he heard everyone gave their final speeches to you

But when you were about to leave

He forcefully shut his eyes and leaned on Beel

Hoping that his sin would take over and he fell into some deep slumber

But why of all times... Why isn't it cooperating..?

His brows are furrowed as he forces himself to sleep

But suddenly everyone dropped silent...

So you finally left?

Wha- why is Beel shaking him?-

MC?!

Why the fuck are you glowing now?!

No no no...

Is it the work of some demon?!

Who-

. . .

You're... Naked...

In front of everyone...

Haha...

Beel better hold him back or else he's about to run after you and do what his brothers can't

But he knows you won't like that.

So he clinged to Beel-

Haha...

Why do you look like that?!

That's his last thought before he ran and almost caught you but the portal closed

Immidiately.

"Hmm... What a shame~"

He'll make sure he'll catch you next time.

[kimikitti]

In honor of the new Book 7 part I present to you all the right and honorable Lord Calibearn the Pretender. Briar Valley's premier overworked government employee.

Former court jester turned Royal Advisor, he's wrangled almost three generations of Draconia royalty in vastly different ways. He's twisted from the forest animals in sleeping beauty taking over the Prince's coat. Yes, he is made up of a bunch of animals in a fancy stuffed outfit. There's a lore dump below the cut

Unique magic: "Flock Together"- Allows user to control and manipulate groups of small animals. Advanced application allows conscious transfer of the soul

Background:

Calibearn came from a relatively poor background in Briar Valley. He used to sing and play the lute for some extra coin on the streets. When the Royal Court held a competition for a new jester, Calibearn decided to try out. He was successful on account for the unique harmonies he could conjure with forest animals and was appointed as a companion to a young princess Malenoar. It was through this that Calibearn met Raverne and Lilia.

War: (I'm not too set on his lore yet) During the invasion of the Silver Owl, Calibearn was taken hostage trying to evacuate civilians. He was never supposed to be near the front lines, due to his weak nature. While in captivity, Calibearn was forced to give up his original form and escape using his unique magic "Flock Together".

He never found his original body.

Upon his return, Calibearn took on a more ruthless political role under the senate. His sharp tongue and wit led to a meteoric rise in political circles (plus a shit ton of blackmail).

During the seige of Malenoar's castle, Calibearn was faced with a terrible choice. Send more troups to defend Malenoar or move the supplies to secure civilians. He made a choice he'll never forgive himself for.

Relationships:

Malenoar: On account of a shared childhood, they were quite close. Malenoar would frequently tease Cali about his shyness when they were young. Calibearn also entertained the princess with the sordid affairs that happen amongst the nobles in her court. Calibearn was also involved in a lot of the mischief Maleanoar would pull on potential suitors.

Lilia: Calibearn developed a minor crush on Lilia growing up. He holds Lilia in very high regard. After the war, Calibearn and Lilia's relationship deteriorates. Lilia, though still believing in Calibearn as a friend, cannot forgive him for abandoning Maleanoar. Calibearn doesn't believe that Lilia is wrong about that, but also refuses to explain himself. While Lilia is banished, Calibearn constantly petitions the Senate for a repeal of his punishment. He continues to support Lilia indirectly and would often send gifts for Silver through Malleus.

After nearly centuries of healing, Lilia wants to finally have an open conversation of Calibearn about the past. Calibearn runs away from this constantly. Much to the chagrin of literally everyone involved.

Malleus: Due to the fact that the Senate sucks and Lilia was not often allowed to see Malleus, Calibearn self appointed himself to be a tutor and mentor to the young prince. He would often help Malleus sneak out to see Lilia. He wanted the prince to at least have some semblance of a childhood.

Calibearn was not always the best role model at times. He taught Malleus how to curse like a sailor once and got his ass kicked by Lilia. Though he is fond of Malleus, Calibearn felt himself to be a temporary figure in prince's life. The guilt he carried made Calibearn feel that his love for the prince paled in comparison to the love Lilia could give. As such, he kept some amount of distance between him and Malleus.

Malleus on the other hand, grew to respect Calibearn as a mentor. Though that doesn't stop the prince from teasing Calibearn at every opportunity. (Btw the I love DILF mug is from Malleus, Cali has no idea what DILF means no one tell him.) Also, Malleus is constantly trying to get is divorced dads back together. Silver gets enlisted into this fight on account for him being the youngest and cutest.

[milfsdoll]

Hey are you taking requests? If so could you maybe do one where Agatha Harkness walks in on Reader masturbating  and sexy times happen

Please

If you aren’t taking request then that’s okay 

Caught

Summary: Agatha ordered you one thing not to do… touch yourself, but she caught you in the act and she wasn't too mad about it either.

Warnings: +18, smut, top!agatha, bottom!reader, masturbating, slight magic sex, choking kink, hair pulling kink, praise kink, mommy kink, scissoring, oral sex, Agatha being a softie for her wife.

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Thank you for this request anon! It was fun to write, also english is not my first language <3

Masterlist

“Do not touch yourself, pet” those were the exact words your wife told you before leaving the house in the morning. 

You knew better than to misbehave, but as the day went by it became harder not to.

After all the teasing from this morning you couldn’t think of anything else.

Her hands all over your body, how her fingers danced over your skin, teasing your nipples and your entrance, her smile against your pulse point when she heard your desperation in your voice, pleading her to touch you where you wanted but never doing so, making you watch as she got off on your thigh while her hand rested on your throat, telling you how good you made her feel without even touching her, your hands tied up over your head with her magic.

“Fuck” you whined to yourself, getting out of your second shower of the day, trying to calm your mind and body from doing the only very thing she told you not to do. You stared at your reflexion on the mirror, seeing the love marks the woman left on your neck and chest, it made you groan, the the fire on your lower stomach starting to form once again.

You hardly disobeyed her, knowing she loved when you were good, having you at her mercy, and you loved being able to see her soft side in bed, don’t get me wrong, you freaking loved when she was rough with you, but the soft sex… it made you lose your mind, how good she took care of you, her praises in your ear, her eyes watching you fall apart beneath her…

Get yourself together, all these thought weren’t helping you at all.

Looking at the time you considered the thought, maybe, just maybe… you could do it,

she wasn’t going to be home for the next hour, that gave you plenty of time just to get some relief, I mean she didn’t have to know… she wouldn’t know, would she?

You stared at the clock for a few minutes, your mind racing with thoughts…

Fuck it.

You ignored the voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea and got on the bed, getting in a comfortable position, your hair still damp from the shower and your breath already hitching from the anticipation.

Slowly your hand travelled down your body, imagining it was hers, her long fingers running down your figure you reached between your legs, still as wet as you were hours ago, the image of her teasing you about it making you close your legs unconsciously, letting out a moan as you started to play with your clit. 

Trying to muffle your moans biting your lip, you didn’t hear the main door close, too focused on bringing yourself some kind of pleasure, your hand gripped the sheets while you pushed your fingers inside of you, only hearing the obscene wet sounds you were making.

“I knew you could not wait for me” 

The sudden sound made you gasp, quickly sitting up and looking at Agatha who was leaning against the bedroom door “A-Aggie I thought you didn’t come home for at least an hour” 

You were fucked, utterly fucked.

“Well imagine my surprise, wanting to come home earlier to please my wife, and finding she started the fun without me” she took off her blue coat, throwing it to the side while making her way to the bed “and after I told her, specifically, not to do so” 

Her eyes checked your state, your sweaty, flushed state, you looked ruined already.

While she stood at the end of the bed staring, you felt embarrassed, your cheeks tainted red, pulling the sheets over your very naked body feeling too exposed “nah ah” she pushed them back down harshly, her eyes turning dark “keep going”

“What?” You were confused, not quite catching up with the situation.

“Go on, touch yourself doll” she took off her necklace next, unbuttoning her white shirt only a few buttons before glaring at you “don’t make me repeat myself” you knew that voice, that deep, dominant voice. 

And you knew there wasn’t a way out of this.

Never taking your eyes off hers, your legs hesitantly opened for her to see, her breath hitched when she saw how wet you really were, she couldn’t be more turned on than right now “I missed you so much, I couldn’t contain myself” your voice weakened with every word, your hand starting to rub circles on your clit.

If you were doing this you were gonna give her a show. 

Still sitting up grabbing the sheets tightly you threw your head back “Eyes on me” you immediately looked at her, not wanting to disobey her again, you were already fucking close, but you needed her.

You watched her discard her clothes, she did it slowly, to torture you, loving the way your eyes followed every bit of her moves, your fingers teasing your hole before pushing inside, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, to be good for her “Aggie” you whined, pleading her with your eyes “I need you please”

“Why would I? I should make you stop right now and deny you for the rest of the night, a few days even” and she would have done just that if she wasn’t as eager as you, she’s been thinking of this, of you, all day, she prayed to catch you touching yourself so she could torture you for a while, to see how your body needed her for your release. 

“I’ll be good” you pleaded “I’ll be good, I promise, I’m so sorry Aggie, please” another whine escaped your lips, starting to get frustrated, your fingers weren’t enough, you needed her, now.

And suddenly your sight turned purple, a lash of pleasure running through your whole body, your hand pulling out of you to grab the sheets harder for support “fuck!” Your back arched, chocking out a moan “what are you doing?” You gasped put, you couldn’t handle it, you felt painfully on edge, seeing her eyes radiating purple with a smirk on her face “A-Agatha are you- agh!” Your insides turned fire, your core clenching into nothing.

You couldn’t think, your body feeling hotter than ever, and your mind clouded with pleasure.

And you looked so, so beautiful, squirming in pleasure, your hips rolling into nothing unconsciously, she loved how she could play with you with only her mind. She bit her lip, getting on the bed, watching you as tried to get a hold of yourself, not even noticing her moving on top of you, your eyes clenched shut and you jaw hanged low. 

The feel of her hand on your cheek calmed your down, the magic disappearing in an instant, trying to ease your breath you looked up at her, tears starting to fall down your eyes “it’s ok, you’re alright” she whispered wiping away your tears.

Her gaze softened, fearing she went too far with her magic “was it too much?” Her worried voice made you shake your head instantly. 

“No, of course not” you slowly pulled her down with you, both falling into the mattress before your lips found hers “just please… make love to me Aggie” you said between kisses, making your wife smile into it.

And she wasn’t gonna say no to that, so she deepened the kiss, her tongue intruding into your mouth, while your hands helped her hair out of her messy bun, her long stands of hair falling around your head only so you could lock your hands into them “I think you’ve had enough teasing for today” 

She sneaked her leg between yours, gripping yours and positioning it on her shoulder, manhandling you in the position she wanted you parted from her lips, looking at her you suddenly felt her clit rub against yours, making you both moan “God, Agatha” your head arching back into the pillow.

Taking the opportunity, she attached her lips on your neck, feeling your goosebumps raise as she kissed and bit on your pulse point, your hips moving moving into the perfect rhythm together.

“you feel so good doll” she managed to let out in a moan, resting her forehead against yours, staring into the other’s eyes, your hands scratching the back of her neck.

It did feel fucking good.

Your bodies moving in unison, your breasts caressing each other, making yours nipples sensitive to the touch, your heel pushing into her back causing her to fall closer to you. She took your hand from her hair and laid it beside your head, interlocking your fingers with hers.

You pulled her into a kiss swallowing each other’s moans, feeling her free hand sneak to your neck squeezing softly, your cunt clenched.

“Fuck- I’m- I’m gonna cum” you gasped for air, feeling the knot on your lower stomach tense by the second.

“Not yet” she heard your desperate grunt, your pace getting sloppier as you tried not to cum on the spot “wait for me, princess” her voice was weak, starting to feel her orgasm approach as well.

Knowing very well what was her soft spot your hand on her hair gripped it tightly, tugging it back, watching her face shift in pleasure, a moan escaping her lips and her body almost giving out on top of you “cum with me please… mommy” 

That made her snap, not even being able to form words as she reached her orgasm, you following her, moaning each other’s names and yours hands tightening into the other’s.

Riding through your highs Agatha gently lowered your leg around her waist, her lips kissing all over your face, you trying to ease your breath while your hands caressed her cheekbones, making her look at you.

Words weren’t needed between the two you, only your gazes saying those three words you both knew.

The older woman kissed you lovingly, both humming into it, before she lowered her lips to your neck, following your collarbone and chest, her tongue circling your nipple, biting it softly, earning a gasp from you, and your back arching into her.

“Aggie…”

“Shh”

She continued her kiss attack down your stomach, leaving bites marks all over you, her hands holding your hips down “you can take another one, right? For mommy?”

How could you deny her?

Her beautiful blue eyes never leaving yours as she reached your cunt “yes” you hushed out, feeling her hot breath over you before she connected her lips with your overstimulated clit, your head falling backwards, the only sounds outing your throat were strangled moans.

She ate you like a starved animal, her tongue entering you while her nose continued to rub your clit, her nails digging into your thighs, and you were sure it was going to leave marks, and you weren’t gonna complain, at all.

You pulled her closer by her hair, your hand fisting it for support, causing your wife to moan into your core.

It made your legs begin to tremble, your thighs squeezing her head “s-shit!” You were not gonna last long, still sensitive with your last orgasm you were on the edge, and Agatha knew, feeling your cunt clench her tongue.

When you felt her squeezing your thigh twice you knew she was giving you permission, a long, loud moan escaping your throat as the hard orgasm took over you, making you see stars, your legs shaking around her.

She kept eating you out, helping you through your orgasm until you pushed her head away softly, wincing at the overstimulation.

Agatha kissed her way up to you, seeing your blown away features, trying to catch your breath “you did so good” she kissed your forehead “I’m so proud of you” it made you giggle, your cheeks even more red than before, the woman chuckled with you, loving how cute you looked right now, all fucked out but still in your bubbly self.

“Don’t move”

It wasn’t like you could do that right now if you wanted anyways, your legs still shaking a little after two fucking powerful orgasms, you tried not to fall asleep in the spot, waiting for her to come back, you suddenly felt a cold cloth in your face, your eyes opening to see her smiling at you “hi” you whispered smiling back, making her hum a hi in return, cleaning between your legs next.

You winced a little, still feeling sore “I know, you’re ok honey” she kissed your lips sweetly before she finished, throwing the cloth somewhere at the end of the bed. 

She laid by your side, pulling you close to her while she covered both of you with the blanket, you hid your head on her neck, planting a kiss there “I love you Aggie” 

“I love you too sweet thing” her kissed your head, stroking your hair while watching as you fell asleep, your breath easing against her neck, she smiled, her leg caressing yours under the covers.

She was safe to say you were the best thing that happened to her in all the centuries she has lived.

She would do anything for you.

And you would do anything for her.

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 1

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Drabble / Masterlist

Preface

Females have begun to decline as swiftly as time has, and that was when males of all races, began to become desperate. This led to women being collected at birth and sold at auction, and they gradually became one of the most coveted items.

Despairing to keep what have to become sacred treasures across the land hidden, parents started to hide their daughters.

You are one of them.

Until, what you had always thought your last hope, the Government issued a large-scale raid for women, and forced you out of hiding, thrown into the house of four powerful monsters.

Context Warning: NSFW! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub-con/ Non-con, Fingering, Murder, Author's Poor Attempt in Dark Fic, Monsterfucking, Mentions of Slavery

Disgusting, filthy, bottom crawlers.

That was the first thought that came to your mind as the Shadow Company of the Government raided your once safe haven. Your body trembled before them as though you were heaved into a freezing lake, left to die. Your breathing was heavy as though you went for a track. Your sweat coated every inch of your skin.

But the cleaver knife and gun in your hand said otherwise.

Heads and hearts exploded each time a deafening noise echoed in everyone's ears, blocking all sounds, but not yours. All you could hear was the beat of your heart, telling you never to stop.

Each second was enough time to burn down another one's story. However, this was the beginning of your tale.

When all you could see was crimson, when all you could hear was the echo of your heart and the clinking of bullet shells, light shone from behind. And you staggered forward, feeling a scorching heat from your stomach and chest, where blood oozed out which never seemed to come to an end—the sign of your freedom already stolen.

In a blink, gone.

After all, a story never begins with one who already has everything.

It was impossible to block out the stifled sobs of all the women around you, even if you had tried cupping your hands over your ears and closing your eyes.

Just like you, who had fought for your freedom, but to no avail, they were captured a week before. However, you couldn't bring yourself to cry. More than anything, you were tired . . . and mad.

You had been shot twice before your capture, and the bullets the Shadows used were laced with poison. Normally, that would only be used to neutralize monsters, but seeing how you murdered people just to escape, the leader must have realized you were more than what you appeared to be.

That, and the fact that only women can bring life to this godforsaken land, were the reason why men and monsters decided to make them their toys. But these women had long lost their will to live their life the way they wanted. The sparks in their eyes that were said to be the undisputed magic which always brings men to their knees, were now gone.

You couldn't exactly pity them when you were about to experience the same. In fact, you were already in the same state as they were: stripped naked for every goddamned eye to see.

Your name echoed in the corridor,  and one of the men, standing guard, dressed in all black, grabbed your arm. He pulled you up to your feet and whispered to your ears, “You better behave out there,” he tightened his grip as he dragged you. “Graves won't hesitate to put another bullet on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We all know I will fetch a great price. You wouldn't want to lose a large sum of money, don't you?”

“Threatening my Shadows again?” A silvery voice emerged from the darkness, taking the form of a man with slicked-back, blond hair, dressed in the finest suit you had ever put an eye on.

Phillip Graves was a monster—a bloodsucking leech in human clothing, leader of the monsters you had blasted a hole in when they rampaged your home, and the very one to make it even by shooting you and capturing you.

He flashed a small smile at you, condescending enough to make your blood boil. He took you from his subordinate, arm snaking around your waist, and pulling you close to him.

Your breasts planted on his chest, making it appear more ample, and on your stomach, you could feel something hard. A grimace appeared on your face and a shiver ran down your spine as his hands traveled from your waist down to your ass. His fingers slowly went south through the gap of your thighs. You loathed this feeling, the cold touch of his calloused fingers, his hard grip, and the strong scent of his cologne mixed with rust—with blood. But if you retaliated, he would break your bones, over and over again, knowing that you could heal faster than most.

And this sadist wouldn't hesitate to take your virginity himself before selling you to others, like a toy that he had already gotten tired of.

“You sure you don't want me to take you?” Phillip leaned down, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. “I can delay your show and we can have some time.”

“No,” you grunted, turning your head to the side, eyeing his servants who watched the movements of Phillip’s hands running over your body.

A chuckle escaped his lips, inhaling your scent as his nose trailed to your temple. “A shame,” he whispered, his sharp fangs grazing your skin, fingers caressing your folds, already slightly soaked.

You bit your lip to hold back the noise threatening to escape from your lips.

He stepped away from you and watched you immediately try to cover yourself with your arms. But oh, you foolish little bird, he could still see every inch of you.

He would take you, sure, if that was what you wanted. But good sex was nothing to a good sum of money. He can buy or rent any woman he pleases, with the price he could get from you. Besides, there were acquaintances of his who wouldn't want a woman who had already been touched.

Plus points, you were educated.

Cons: you fucking know how to kill.

Wherever the fuck you learned to do that.

He brought his fingers to his lips, licking away your fluids that grazed his fingers. “Well, let's get going.” He smiled and took your wrist, like a misbehaving dog on a walk park now being dragged home.

His hand swiped the curtain open and you squinted your eyes, blinded by the overhead lights, until you finally adjusted to the brightness, which followed you and Graves as you climbed up the stairs of a platform. Shame brought your body to flame as every gaze shifted on your naked flesh, chatters that sounded like static echoed endlessly in your ears.

From there, all you desired was for everything to burn.

John Mactavish leaned forward from his seat, bright blue eyes raking upon every inch of your body, but what caught his attention was the condescending look on your eyes, which declared every man in your sight lower than vermins walking on this land. Then, your eyes settled on Mactavish as Phillip Graves began your brief introduction to all the monsters inside the auction, and seemingly to judge his entire existence, he felt himself wanting more of your attention, of whatever you speak. He felt the desire in your gaze, the hunger for eradication.

Oh, you would look glorious sitting on his lap, bouncing up and down on his dick as you please, until you suck him dry. John felt his dick hardening, brushing against the fabric of his pants. He turned on his seat, facing Jonathan Price, whom they considered the leader of their hoard, but before he could utter a word the same man spoke.

“I like this one,” Price declared, making the other two on the same table as them, shift their gazes at him. Price took a long drag from his cigar before he continued. “She reminds me of the time when women stood proud and confident. We barely see that kind of spark in the eyes of females anymore, and I’d like to bring that spark into nothing but a speck of ash.”

“You’re a sadist, Price,” a man in a skull mask remarked, voice low and gruff, snapping his head back as the bidding started, each time a monster spoke, the price got higher.

Price turned his head to the man, his eyes glowing gold like a flame imprisoned within. “Nothing shall burn brighter than my fire, Simon.” He pulled a smirk on his lips, sharp fangs glinting, and motioned at the other one among them, raising his hand. “Kyle, would you please?”

However, before Kyle could raise their designated number, Graves raised a hand, bringing silence to the room, and he began, “Most of you might think that she is just a human, but let me show you something that would assure that she was the most valuable one we have ever had in a hundred years.”

You snapped your neck at Phillip, frowning at his face until his fingernails became dark and sharp like the claws of a wild beast. With a swift movement, his nails dragged on your arm, making you wince in pain, and blood began to run down. Each plop of blood on the floor made monsters gulp and each centimeter of the wound closed made monsters rise from their feet.

Even Phillip Graves had a hard time resisting the sight of blood and forcing himself on you for the sake of money.

Who wouldn’t want a woman who can take this much damage? Who wouldn’t want a woman who would ensure their offspring would come out stronger?

Then, a booming laughter echoed across the sea of yells, surfacing among others. Just as you turned to see where it came from, a flash of yellow came into your sight, and you leaned back, your heart leaping to your throat when a man towered over you.

Not a man. A monster.

Devil's incarnate.

Sharp horns sprouted from his forehead. On his back, a pair of leathery wings unrolled and a thick, scaly tail slapped Graves away from you before he could complain. And with a single sniff, a huff which brought the smell of smoke up your nostrils, Price’s eyes flashed gold.

“We’re bringing you home.” He pushed his lips onto yours, scaly hands wrapping around your waist, sharp claws scraping your skin. You tried to push him off, but one of his hands grabbed your hand so tight you thought your bones would break.

You whimpered against his mouth, making him chuckle and bite down on your lower lip, his fang piercing through the fragile skin. You tasted blood on your tongue and so did he as you were heaved up, forced to wrap your legs around his waist. Your cunt brushed onto the harsh fabric of his pants and the growing tent between them.

You bit back a moan and pulled away. “Stop—” But his hand pulled you back into his fervent, disgusting kiss. He left his marks on the expanse of your collarbone, then down to the valley of your breasts, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he reached on your head, pulling on your tresses.

It made you turn your head and you watched three other men get on the platform as well—one who appeared to be the most normal-looking among them, giving two cases of money to Graves, who didn’t seem much pleased after he was shoved off stage.

And before this very crowd, you were brought back the curtains and to God knows where.

May we all have seats reserved in hell already.

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own

Comment if you want to be on the taglist

[bodybaggage]

Shadows and Crowns

John Constantine finds himself dealing with royalty

john constantine/danny phantom

---

The London night was dark and damp, as was typical, but something was off. John Constantine could feel it, a prickle on the back of his neck—a telltale sign that something eldritch was afoot. He lit another cigarette, letting the smoke drift lazily upward as he navigated the narrow alleyways with practiced ease. His trench coat fluttered in the cool breeze, and he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of trouble.

It didn’t take long.

A sharp chill in the air made him pause, and he squinted into the fog ahead. The magical wards he had set earlier had been triggered, a clear sign that something powerful—otherworldly—had entered his turf. But what appeared before him wasn’t what he expected.

At first, it was just a flicker of light, almost like a distant star. But then it grew, taking on shape and form until a figure hovered a few feet above the ground, wrapped in a swirling cloak of darkness and stardust. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his hair, a wild shock of white, floated around his head like a halo. His eyes glowed a vibrant, unnatural green, and his presence was something between awe-inspiring and terrifying. It was like staring into the cosmos itself—an eldritch being that seemed to draw the very night around it, bending reality with its mere existence.

John’s instincts screamed at him to run—this was no ordinary spirit, no run-of-the-mill ghost looking for a lost love or a wayward path to the afterlife. This was something far more ancient, far more powerful. Yet, his curiosity, the part of him that had always led him to the darkest corners of the magical world, kept him rooted to the spot.

“Bloody hell,” John muttered under his breath, taking another drag of his cigarette. “What the sodding hell are you?”

The figure tilted its head, the ethereal light of its eyes flickering with amusement. When it spoke, its voice was like a chorus, reverberating through the night air. “I could ask you the same, human.”

John’s eyes narrowed, not liking the sound of that. “Names, mate. I’m partial to knowin’ who—or what—I’m dealin’ with.”

The being seemed to consider this, the stars within its cloak twinkling brighter for a moment. Then, the dark shroud began to recede, revealing a figure beneath it. As the shadows peeled away, what remained was no less intimidating but far more defined.

He was tall, his body clad in armor that seemed to be forged from the cosmos itself—galaxies spun across the black metal, and constellations shimmered in the darkness. A flaming green crown rested atop his head, its fire dancing without heat, and a glowing green ring adorned his right hand, pulsating with power. The armor was intricately detailed, each piece enchanted with symbols John barely recognized but knew were ancient. Despite the regal appearance, there was something unnervingly beautiful about him—an otherworldly allure that tugged at the edges of John’s senses.

“Phantom,” the figure finally said, his voice still carrying that ethereal echo but now more grounded, more human. “King of the Infinite Realms.”

John’s cigarette nearly fell from his lips, but he caught himself just in time. “Infinite Realms, you say? Thought old Pariah Dark was still in charge of that bloody mess.”

Phantom’s expression darkened ever so slightly, the light of his eyes dimming. “Not anymore. I defeated him years ago. The Realms are under new rule now.”

John swore under his breath, stubbing out his cigarette on the damp pavement. The Infinite Realms were the stuff of nightmares—stories passed around in the magical underworld, tales of spirits and realms so dangerous that even the most seasoned sorcerers gave them a wide berth. Constantine himself had always steered clear of anything remotely connected to the place, and now here he was, face to face with its bloody king.

“Well, that’s just grand,” John muttered, more to himself than to Phantom. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “So, what brings the King of Ghosts to my doorstep, eh? Don’t tell me you’ve come to add my soul to your collection.”

Phantom’s lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, and John felt an odd flutter in his chest—damn, he was ethereal. “Not quite. I’m here on business. I believe you’re familiar with the Soul Shredder?”

John’s blood ran cold. Of course he knew the Soul Shredder, a cursed artifact from the darkest corners of the Realms. It was said to be wielded by Fright Knight, Pariah Dark’s former right hand—a spectral warrior of unparalleled power. Rumor had it that the sword had been lost during Pariah Dark’s defeat, its whereabouts unknown. That was until now, apparently.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” John admitted, his tone cautious. “But what’s it got to do with me?”

“It’s been stolen,” Phantom said, his expression turning serious. “And the one who took it has brought it to your world.”

Constantine swore again. “And you think I know somethin’ about it?”

Phantom’s gaze was piercing, though not unkind. “I think you’re one of the few in this world who knows how dangerous that sword can be. And I need it back before it causes irreparable damage.”

John’s mind raced, trying to piece together what little information he had. The Infinite Realms, a missing sword, and now its king standing in front of him, asking for help. This was way above his pay grade, and yet… something in Phantom’s presence, in the way he carried himself with a mix of regal authority and a hint of vulnerability, made John want to help.

Or maybe it was just that damn enchanting aura the ghost was giving off.

“All right,” John finally said, resigned. “I’ll help you track down your fancy sword. But once we find it, you take it and bugger off back to the Realms, got it?”

Phantom inclined his head slightly, a gesture of gratitude. “Agreed.”

Constantine turned, motioning for Phantom to follow. As they walked, John couldn’t help but glance sideways at the ghostly king, admiring the way his armor seemed to shimmer with an inner light, how the green flames of his crown flickered softly. The presence of the Ring of Rage caught John’s attention next, the glowing artifact known for its destructive power. Yet here it was, worn by a being who seemed to hold it with ease, as if it were merely a part of him.

“So,” John said after a moment, trying to keep his tone casual, “how’d you end up with all that fancy gear? That ring, in particular, looks like trouble.”

Phantom glanced at the ring, his expression unreadable. “It was a gift from the previous ruler. It comes with the territory.”

John whistled low. “You must’ve really done a number on old Pariah to earn that.”

Phantom’s gaze turned distant, as if remembering something far away. “It wasn’t easy,” he said quietly, the weight of his words heavy with the memory of that battle. “But it was necessary.”

John nodded, not pushing further. He understood that some battles left scars that were better left unspoken. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, trying to ignore the growing attraction he felt towards the ghostly king. It wasn’t just Phantom’s ethereal beauty—it was the way he carried himself, the way his presence filled the space around him with a mixture of power and calm. It was bloody distracting, to say the least.

“Right then,” John said, snapping himself back to reality. “Let’s find your bloody sword and get you back to your Realms, shall we?”

Phantom smirked, a faint glow of amusement returning to his eyes. “Lead the way, Constantine.”

As they moved deeper into the labyrinthine streets of London, the odd duo—one a jaded occult detective, the other a regal king from another dimension—began their search for the Nightmare Sword. Unbeknownst to John, this encounter with Phantom would change the course of his life, forcing him to confront powers beyond even his own reckoning. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand, and the enigmatic figure at his side who, for some reason, made him feel more alive than he had in years.

——

john when he’s confronted by a hot inter-dimensional ghost:

[renku]

Smoothie

Minatozaki Sana x Male Reader

tags: smut, public sex

Everything was supposed to be normal, as agreed upon. But for Sana, things—especially ordinary ones—should be switched up if opportunity presents itself (more like whenever she's in the mood to do so).

Oversized white tee covered her shorts. Sexy thighs out in the open. The notion about her cute yet sexy is a fact. Doesn't matter if she tries to conceal it or not. Those glasses were the cherry on top to the overall fit—plain simple—that gets onto your nerves but still feasting on the sight of it.

The cold, sweet strawberry smoothie tastes fantastic, as Sana continues to invade your mouth in a sloppy French kiss. Soul getting sucked out of your body; an aggressive yet passionate, sinful act.

It never occured once in you that a person completely out of this world would even look your way. Random escapes during night, making excuses to other members, and anything she could come up as a reason just to meet you is still a mystery yet a part of you was glad. You mean, it's Sana, who wouldn't not want that kind of efforts?

Your raging member was already out from its constraints as Sana jerks it off in such a playful way. No established pace was even given in the first place: fast then slow, fast, faster, then slower. It's torture but one you would enjoy everytime.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait. We're back in business after tonight and it would take me days before I can spend another time with you," said Sana.

Words won't even form in your mouth as Sana's hand is focused on your dripping head. Heat increasing as friction is present between your tip and her finger.

The odds were in your favor tonight, not a single soul was passing by where Sana currently commits her crime. It was cold, but both of you are in heat. She grabbed your hand, bringing its presence to her awaiting warmth. Sana's shorts were already down by the time she did this.

"Touch me, and just do your magic on me. Don't say a word. That's when I like you the most."

And just like a man under a spell, you did what she said. Every word. You brushed her folds but focused on her aroused bud. Along with her sweet moans comes her juices flowing out, coating every nook and inch of your fingers. Soon enough, two fingers slipped inside her keyhole, doing the work of unlocking her sweet pleasure.

Breaths and moans filled the space between you and Sana, getting shorter and shorter.

"Oh, God. Yes, that's it."

Sana wants to remained composed even at times like this, even you knew she wanted to scream it all out how good she feels.

With a tight hug to you, she came. Hugging you was the signal that she already had her sweet release. She looked into your eyes, satisfied yet signs were obvious. She wants more—that feeling. The sensation of you being inside her as you make love to her before going to just pure, rough fucking.

And she can't wait. She slowly turned around before bending and lifting the hem of her shirt from the back; exposing that lovely bare pussy and cake right before your own eyes.

As a true man, you willingly obliged to what she wants.

Aiming your cock at her entrance, you pushed inside as it was the first time doing it—relishing what her pussy feels like. Time to the deed, Sana doesn't want to be keep waiting.

Her hips felt your hands, as a steady pace rocks her body.

"Fuck," she said in a dreamy, almost whispering voice. She felt your thing twitch inside her as if it stretches out her insides. The clapping sounds made by the contact of her butt and your lower abdomen were always a music to her ears. She wants more of it , more of you.

Low groans escaped from you as go faster bit by bit. The stream of cold air gave you goosebumps as it made you feel more of Sana's heat.

"Yes, fuck me! Give me all you got before the night ends. I want it all!"

Without even blinking an eye, drilling her hole went faster, fueling that familiar sensation in your groin. You want this to last longer but for the sake of not getting caught in public, it's time to finish the business. Pounding her like a madman, and making one last pull, you erupted inside her. Filling her with all of your cum that some of it slowly escapes her freshly fucked pussy.

After making sure she got it all, you pulled out with an intense feeling of satisfaction. Watching her body heave from the sex she got.

She stood up straight before turning around to face you, smiling. Oh, that smile!

"I didn't notice that I dropped my smoothie, but I got better one anyway," Sana said.

"We should fix ourselves, miss," you replied. "We can't afford to be seen looking like this."

Sana giggled, "You're cute!"

In the end, you just sighed as a mark of defeat. "What am I going to do with you?"

A/N: Pretty plain but need to start somewhere again somehow. Have a good day, folks. Stay safe!

[gravid-transluna]

In the Name of Science

words: 7627

content: birth denial, clothing birth, mutual birth, fpreg

Co-written with the wonderful and endlessly imaginative @shhhsecretsideblog

First entry into the Spell-verse, a series of stories revolving around a town blanketed by a rapid pregnancy and birth spell.

The news already had coined a name for it. Go figure, Char thought, shaking her head at the display of pure pseudoscience on the screen before her.

“Yes, that’s right,” a reporter spoke. “Emergency services have taken a census and The Spell seems to have affected every person able to bear children in the town.”

“The Spell,” Char scoffed, shaking her head. “Call it a virus, a fluke of biology, whatever. Just don’t chalk it up to magic.”

Because if it was magic, that would mean her science would be ineffectual on the obvious life growing inside her belly, now looking full-term with a baby that she hadn’t been pregnant with this morning. It rippled, hanging low between the scientist’s thighs. She placed a palm on her stretched tummy. The evidence, she thought, speaks for itself.

“Shouting at the tele again Char?” Laura said as she waddled into their lab. Her long white coat hung open at her sides, her own newly formed bump making the coat too small to fit round her frame.

“Got you a coffee.” She passed the hot drink to her boss and went over to sit on the stool by her own workstation. It took a bit of navigating, still not used to this extra weight she now carried, but eventually she plumped herself on the high metal chair.

“I mean, they aren’t wrong calling it ‘The Spell.’ What’s happening here is unheard of. All these pregnancies are popping up very much like magic.” Laura rubbed the circumference of her large belly that now sat heavily atop her thighs. She could feel the baby moving inside, it was so strange. Pregnancy and birth was never something she thought she’d experience. She understood it, she knew all about the process, but it was something else entirely actually experiencing it. And going through it all within the space of a day was a bit of a rollercoaster.

They’d done scans and knew they were carrying human babies, it wasn’t anything supernatural or alien, but it was just the speed, it was unprecedented. The baby in her womb shifted and kicked her in the ribs “Oof!” She huffed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.” Laura commented to her boss.

Char nodded, smothering the instinct to cup her own belly as devoted her attention back to her work.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to. We’ll find a way to reverse the process without delivery and things will—“ she paused, startled by a twinge in her stomach muscles and the subsequent squirming of the baby inside her. She cleared her throat. “Things will return to normal and we can take the time to research this phenomenon thoroughly.”

Secretly, Char’s urgency stemmed from another reason—already she’d struggled to adapt to the feeling of her body so unrecognizably changed, the idea of a passenger inside her, her body growing and stretching to accommodate it without any of her say in it. Even the tiniest signs of motherhood she steadfastly resisted, trying not to waddle or hold her heavy mound, wearing her usual lab wear instead of anything more comfortable. Yet—

She knew this was nothing compared to birth. She also knew that they were on a strict time limit. Shaking her head, she dispelled these thoughts. ‘We don’t have to worry about that. All we have to worry about is finding a cure,’ she thought.

“You really think we can find a cure before these babies are born?” Laura asked hesitantly. She knew how her boss was handling this sudden change in their bodies, and it wasn’t very well. Not that she’d admit it. She disappeared quickly into the work when it first started happening to people and completely ignored the signs this morning that it was happening to them both as well.

“I’ve heard that some people are already starting to give birth… we might not have the time. Not before these ones are born anyway.” Laura patted her bump affectionately. She wasn’t fighting this as much as her boss. Yes it was a shock, but Laura was leaning into the experience, it was fascinating.

She noticed her belly start to twinge, felt similar to period pains. Laura shifted in her chair, trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling, her legs widening on the stool to fit her rounded stomach in between. “Have you had any twinges or cramps or anything?” Laura asked.

Char glanced at Laura, absorbing the gravity of her condition, the way her midsection protruded from her open lab coat and her discomfort that so mirrored Char’s own. “Nope,” she lied easily, convincing herself that it was the weight she was now carrying, that the pressure in her hips and the aching of her back was all because of the new load in her belly.

“Well, I’m not exactly hasty to get these babies out the old-fashioned way,” Char said.

A part of her shared sentiments with Laura, though. Call it a scientific curiosity, but the process of birth was quite a marvel. Another cramp seized her belly and she stiffened slightly, bearing it without note. Her own belly hung low, having dropped without her realizing, but Laura’s taut, overhanging swell was immediately apparent to her.

How about you?” She asked while peering into a microscope.

“I’m not sure… I’m feeling something… oof—” Laura took a sharp breath as the ache peaked before easing off again. “It’s probably just my body adjusting to the quick pregnancy. I’m not in a hurry to give birth myself.”

She didn’t want to say it but the rate at which their stomachs had swelled, Laura didn’t think they would have long before the pangs of labor hit. It was difficult to ascertain how “far along” they were, given the speed in the growth, but judging by the bumps alone Laura guessed her and Char were developing at the same rate.

“We better work fast then, before either of us goes into labor.” Or both of us, Laura thought to herself.

Char pressed her lips together at the reminder, and without knowing she palmed the underside of her swollen stomach, attempting to soothe the tightened muscles.

“Yes, right. Could you come over here and we can analyze these lab reports together. Bring the files from the corner bench, please.”

Her back ached, yet she was too restless to sit and besides, she always worked while standing. She’d be damned if she let this baby inside of her intrude on her routine.

“Sure thing.” Laura said to Char’s instruction. Holding her taut stomach, Laura slipped off the stool onto her feet and waddled over to the corner bench to pick up the files.

Standing seemed to have jolted her baby, feeling the weight sink lower into her hips as it kicked. A sudden sharp tightening slashed across her belly causing her to gasp and grab on to the table. “Mnngh!” She groaned as the muscles pulled and squeezed, its intensity surprising.

“Char… hooo… I think I might be having a con-contraction…” Laura panted through the pain, hips instinctively swaying beneath the white lab coat.

Char snapped her head up from the microscope to see Laura doubled over, clutching the table. With her back flat, her weighty belly seemed to strain toward the ground, dragged downward by gravity. Char watched as Laura swayed her hips in an almost hypnotic pattern, as though instinct had taken over. Her panting, even, seemed instinctual, the sounds of an imminent mother.

“Laura? Hey—“ Char struggled to walk without a waddle, across the room to Laura. She was stopped by a squeezing in her tummy that took her breath away, the entire surface hardening painfully. She dismissed it before it even ended. ‘Braxton Hicks,’ she thought. ‘No big deal. I have time…. Laura, I’m not so sure.’

She placed a palm on Laura’s lower back and she breathed and swayed. “You’re okay,” she said, her usual brisk tone softening. “Just breathe.”

“Hoooo-hoooo…..” Laura forced herself to take measured breaths, in and out, breathing through the sudden pain. Her head dipped and her eyes scrunched, the weight and pressure suddenly peaking before gradually fading away. Slowly the assistant straightened back up and faced her friend (?) and boss.

“Jeeze, that was… intense.” She breathed, rubbing the underside of her belly. “I wasn’t expecting that to come on so fast. Guess I’m in labor. I’ll start running a log of all my symptoms so we can add to our research.” She picked up the earlier requested files and handed them to her boss, noticing a slight glistening of sweat on Char’s forehead. “You still doing okay?”

Char nodded, appearing uncharacteristically distracted. She made an effort to straighten her back, feeling the clamping around her womb subside for now.

“Fine,” she said. Then, appreciative of Laura’s dedication to their studies, “Good work, Laura. If it gets to be too much for you, let me know. Until then, we’ll work around the clock and develop a cure before you progress too far.”

And, before I do as well, Char added to herself.

Noting Laura’s significantly widened stance and the way she stroked and circled her dropped belly, Char felt a twinge of apprehensiveness.

As they worked, fighting the clock, Char listened to Laura’s pained breaths become sharper. Eventually she began to vocalize, softly at first, closing her eyes and rocking her body back and forth, making slight grunts and moaning under her breath.

Char wasn’t in a much better state. Her contractions had grown into strong, regular surges and every time her belly seized up she could only focus on it and the baby inside it preparing to be born. Born, she thought. Not if I can help it. Her familiarity with the process and inevitability of birth did nothing to halt this line of thinking. Yet with each contraction she felt like nothing else existed but her swollen, contracting belly. She released a breath after a particularly brutal one. There was so much pressure. She felt it deep in her hips, wanting so badly to open herself up all the way.

Laura let out a pained groan herself, and Char glanced up.

“H-how are you, mm, holding up?” She asked the other laboring woman.

“As w-well as can be expected… hoooo…” Laura held her heavy belly with one hand, the other leant on her workstation as she swayed through the pain. “They are really picking up now Char, oof, the pressure is a lot.”

The lab assistant had abandoned her chair a while ago, finding the most comfortable position was to stand at her desk as it allowed her to follow her body’s rhythm and its instinct to move. Plus the baby was sinking way too low to be sitting down on that ridiculous high stool. She had spent entire days on that chair working before The Spell, but that idea seemed downright ludicrous to Laura now.

Their research seemed to be slow moving, and it wasn’t entirely down to the fact she was in labor, the science just wasn’t providing them with answers, still proving to be a mystery. She’d been keeping track of her contractions, which were getting dangerously closer together and time was running out.

Whilst the waves of pain coursing through her body every five minutes were consuming, Laura wasn’t oblivious to the fact her boss was also struggling. Perhaps it was because of her own labor she could recognise the signs; the way Char kept moving around the lab and never stayed still, her heavy breathing and occasional moan, and the way her hips would shift and bounce when she thought Laura wasn’t looking. Yup, her boss was almost certainly in labor too. But Laura knew better than to ask her outright.

“Are you feeling okay Char? You’ve been on your feet for quite a w-while now..”

Char tried to imagine sitting and found she couldn’t, with the baby dropped so low, the head pressing heavily on her cervix. She knew from the strain in Laura’s voice and her repeated movements around the room that she was feeling the same pressure and slowly increasing urgency. She wanted to moan, openly sway and rotate her hips against the excruciating pressure, to release instinctual grunts with her contractions like Laura. But, not yet. She couldn’t be in active labor.

“Just frustrated,” Char growled. “We’ve barely made progress and this current batch of tests has yielded no results whatsoever…. mmgh!” She winced, closing her mouth so as not to cry out as a contraction clamped her midsection.

“Also,” she added. “I might—urgh, be experiencing some Braxton Hicks.”

“Oh… braxton hicks… okay.” Laura acknowledged calmly, knowing full well there was nothing false about the pains plaguing Char. “Just try and b-breathe through them. They’ll soon pass. You can move around you know, follow your body’s instincts if you need to, I’m sure it would help with the, errr—false labor pains.”

They continued working in relative silence, except from the unusual noises Laura found herself making through the pains. She thought she heard her boss whimper, and asked “Is there anything I can do to h-help?”

Not that she was capable of doing much, the pains were so strong now she could barely do anything other than catch her breath between waves. Laura stayed close to her work bench, not daring to move too far for fear she’d crumble to the floor. Her bump hung heavy and low off her hips, her baby was pressing hard against her cervix clearly marking its exit. A particularly forceful contract had Laura folded over against the bench, forearms on the white surface, hips jutting back, and her head buried in the crook of her elbow. Her groans had turned more primal, the pressure building to the point she almost mooed like a cow. Something was slipping down, she could feel it. With a grunt Laura felt something give and the immediate dampness that followed trailing down her leg.

“Ummm… Char? Hoooo… I think my water broke.” Laura whimpered into her arm, not daring to move.

Char turned when she heard Laura’s animalistic groans and grunts, undeniably the noises of a woman deep in labor. She saw Laura standing wide-legged, a wet patch forming on her lab trousers and puddling the floor beneath her. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, and Char knew she was feeling the same pressure against her widening cervix as herself, increasingly overcome with the sensation of the head moving into position, the instinctive need to open herself up for the baby getting ready to come out of her.

“Laura—! Hooo um, okay,” Char faltered, taking large waddling steps to Laura and cursing the weight in her pelvis and the unwieldiness of her belly. .Normally in control of the situation, she felt lost at the sight of Laura’s waters puddled on the floor. This was an uncontrollable variable. No matter how much they wanted to keep their babies in, once their bodies decided it was time there was little they could do. But Char wasn’t ready to give in yet.

“I’ll, mmgh, find you some towels,” she promised Laura.

In the hallway she suffered another contraction, and found herself vocalizing freely without Laura around, lowing insistently and arching her back. Without knowing, her knees bent slightly, beginning to sink into a squat. She realized what she was doing and tried to hold herself upright against the hallway wall, but by then the contraction was upon her and she felt a sudden burst of fluid from between her legs.

“Oh…. shit,” she murmured, panting hard.

When she returned with the towels, she met Laura’s gaze and knew that they were both feeling the urgency of birth. They were almost out of time.

The contraction had waned when Char left the room and Laura slowly righted herself and breathed quietly, taking stock of the situation, letting her body adjust and working with the new sensations. The baby was definitely on its way, there was no doubt about that. The breaking of her waters had helped ease the excruciating pressure which had been building, but Laura became more keenly aware of the shape of the baby in her womb without its cushioning.

Taking deep and steady breaths, Laura tried to calm her mind and body. It was during this almost meditative state that she heard the unmissable sound of a woman in deep labor from the corridor. She knew exactly who it was.

Char was a very methodical woman, set in her ways, but she was strong and determined which was a necessity in this field of work. Laura respected her immensely. But it was no surprise to the assistant that her boss was fighting this and seemingly was fighting it to the very end. At some point Char would admit she was in labor, she would have to if she was going to birth her baby. Laura just hoped she would be able to help Char through it when the time comes, and not be consumed by her own birth.

When Char came back she was flushed and sweaty, but gritted a smile as she passed Laura a towel. Laura noticed her boss kept one for herself… strange.

Laura threw the towel on the floor and used her foot to wipe the liquid that was now puddled at her feet. Her trousers were wet but she didn’t want to take them off, she might have known Char for years but wasn’t quite ready to be walking around half naked in front of her boss.

“This baby is definitely coming, I can feel its head right down in my pelvis.” Laura announced, cupping the underside of her large swell almost trying to hold it up. “How are you holding up Char through your… practice contractions?”

Even without her announcing it, Char could tell how close Laura was to birthing her baby, her stance and dropped belly unmistakable as signs of her imminent birth. Laura, she knew, was dependable, and though Char would rarely admit it, she relied on Laura and her stability and her easier personality tended to balance Char’s own stubbornness. Her patience was beginning to wear Char down, and she almost admitted then. The head was huge against her dilated cervix, and she could feel it oriented, ready to descend. Everything was moving painfully downwards. She could no longer even pinch her knees together, so wide was her gait. It felt as if the baby would drop out of her if she spread too wide.

“I-I think I’m, I’m in—“ Char was cut off by another contraction, doubling over with an urgent grunt, so unlike her normally composed and cool attitude. “Ohhhh,” she moaned, closing her eyes. She gritted her teeth, eyes squeezed shut as the contraction began to peak and she clutched blindly at her rigid, taut belly.

“Oh Char…” Laura said, waddling over to her boss, keeping one hand on a bench for support. “I think you’re in labor, hun.”

Char was completely doubled over, clutching her large and heavy belly, and grunting wildly. There was no way she could keep denying her situation now surely. Laura put a hand on Char’s back and rubbed up and down her spine in support. “It’s okay, just breathe through the contraction. Slowly, don’t panic, in and o-outttt…”

Laura was cut off by a contraction of her own, and without her waters it was aggressive and forceful. She immediately spun around, grabbing the nearest bench, and groaned deeply as she fell into a slight squat. The baby was slamming against her cervix, squeezing its way into her birth canal, and Laura had no choice but to push with the force of the contraction.

She tried not to panic, to stay calm, but the head filling her canal was almost making her nauseous. She wanted to tell Char but couldn’t speak, not that her boss could do anything as she was dealing with a contraction of her own right now. The only option left was to ride the wave, and follow her instincts.

Over the din of her own uncontrollable noises Char could hear Laura’s straining groans as she bore down fiercely, primal with the urgency of a birthing mother. Char tried to change her posture but the feeling of the baby descending, pressing down forcefully against her cervix was too much for her to bear standing, and she clasped her hands on her thighs as she squatted, desperate for relief. The contraction peaked, and though she tried to control her breathing, sucking in air at first, by the ends of her breaths she found herself grunting slightly. She gave a gasp, realizing that she was pushing. No! No, no! She thought desperately. You’re a scientist. This is your lab, and you have control. Try as she might, it was impossible to assert control over her laboring body. Her baby was coming, and she was pushing. Still, she tried to resist the urge to push, panting and blowing as the pressure grew and her back flared with pain.

Laura’s contraction seemed to subside a little before Char’s, and Char saw her belly visibly heave as her uterine muscles relaxed. She let out a grunt as the contraction released her. They made eye contact as Char’s contraction began to fade as well. Char shifted her gaze.

“We…. w-we,” she panted, trying to regain her breath. “We have to find this cure. Right now.”

“Char…. Even if we do find a c-cure… what do you t-think is going to happen?” Laura said sternly as she heaved herself back to standing. “These babies,” she patted her bump and also Char’s for effect, “are coming and no cure is going to make them disappear.”

Laura had seen the way Char literally squatted to the ground and pushed, and her clothes were also damp on her bottom half. “I’m saying this as both your friend and colleague, you are in labor just as much as I, and we should prepare for their arrival.”

Laura waddled awkwardly, bowlegged, back to her desk and grabbed a drink of water. Still panting after the latest contraction, she picked up a pen and carried on making notes. “I’ll help you as much as I can, noting everything down about this rapid pregnancy, tracking my symptoms and experience, but we’re going to be giving birth soon. Both of us.”

Char glared weakly as Laura patted her belly. She’d known Laura to be one of her only lab partners to actually stand up to her or challenge her, but even then she was firmly gentle. This was no different except of course so steeped in labor herself Laura had a bit more edge to her, biting just a little. She knew how Laura was feeling. Their babies were so low, pushing heavily into their canals and forcing their bodies to deliver, and she wanted nothing more to stop what she was doing right now, squat down, and let it come. Magic or science, Char and Laura were experiencing their most natural, primal instincts.

But—she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. No, this was HER body. An intruding passenger wouldn’t change that, even as it inched its way through her birth canal and demanded she work hard and concentrate on nothing but pushing it out. Char made a laborious effort to straighten somewhat, though her stance wasn’t much narrower than Laura’s own bowlegged waddle.

“Not, urgh, yet,” Char said. “I’m not having this baby. Mmm…. hoo, I’m grateful to you, Laura, for holding it together for this long. But you n-need to deliver. Please, don’t burden yourself. I’ll finish this cure on my—hmnh, hm. My own.”

She painstakingly toddled to her research table, lifting the hefty weight of her belly as though it would keep the baby from dropping any further.

“Okay, do whatever you wanna do Char.” Laura resigned herself to losing this argument. Her boss was determined but this was next level, bordering on complete denial. Well if Char was feeling even half the sensations Laura was, she’d succumb to this birth soon enough.

Laura needed to prepare for the imminent birth, her recent pushing was a sure sign the baby was close. Slowly, and whilst always holding on to something, the assistant rummaged through the drawers and cupboards in the lab. “Do we have anything we could use for clamps to cut the cord?” She asked aloud, not really expecting an answer from her disgruntled colleague. “Ah, this could work.”

She collected the equipment she’d need to clamp and cut the chord on her desk, and moved the towel on the floor with her feet again mopping up the new liquid that she’d trailed across the floor, not realizing she was still leaking. “I’m gonna go get some more towels.” Laura again spoke aloud but knew her boss had disappeared into her own world.

Laura barely made it to the doorway when another contraction struck, and damn they were close together. Her fingers gripped the wooden frame as her body sank downwards again, the pressure building and building between her legs. “Mnnnghhhhhhhh!!!” Laura grunted, muscles contracting and squeezing the large head further through the birth canal, to the point she could feel herself start to open slightly. “Nghhhhhhh the head…. I can feel it…” Laura mewled as she squatted.

Char listened to Laura’s preparations in the background, doing her best to tune out both Laura’s words and the feeling of a massive head lodged in her birth canal, stretching her from within. Her legs trembled, nearly buckled even without a contraction. She resented herself for pushing but knew from her last contraction that she wouldn’t be able to help from bearing down again. The urge to push, the pressure, it was blurring her vision, and her head pounded dizzyingly. A mantra repeated in her head: ‘Hold it in. Just hold it in a little longer.’ Her stomach felt like a hard stone weighing on her middle even without a contraction. She tried to focus, pulling herself into a chemical analysis of her own birthing fluids she’d swabbed from the towel.

Suddenly, she heard Laura’s loud grunting and her attention was drawn to the doorway to see her assistant bent and squatted, pushing hard into her trousers. She felt a tug of concern.

“Laura? Hun, you okay—?”

The head, she thought. Oh god, she’s still wearing her work trousers.

Before she could even take a single step towards Laura, she felt another contraction grip her. “Oooof,” she grunted deeply. Her knees began to give out and she was forced into a squat even as she tried to remain standing. Gripping the table for dear life, she groaned and growled. Don’t push, she thought. Don’t—

“Ohhhh.” The head shifted down. Her powerful internal muscles shoved it through. “OH—I’m—I-I’m pushinggggg, mmmmgh!”

Laura was consumed by the sensations thrumming through her entire body, it was as if something primal was happening to her - new and unfamiliar, completely out of her control, and yet her body seemed to know what to do. Her knees widened and she sunk deeper into the squat, opening her hips as much as she could. Leaning into the contraction, using it, Laura pushed the heavy weight down. It felt… productive. She knew it was what she should be doing.

The location wasn’t ideal, and she hoped she still had time to collect more towels and set up a more comfortable birthing area. But whilst the contraction raged, Laura submitted to it, letting it work her baby down, slipping further and further towards its exit.

Somewhere in the distance she heard her name being called. After a long push Laura gulped a breath and turned her head to see Char squatting at her desk and crying out that she was pushing. She would laugh if her body hadn’t forced her into another push.

They needed to get set up and quick, Char looked like she was suffering just as much as Laura was. When the contraction waned just a bit, Laura stopped pushing and somehow managed to haul her body back to standing. Char looked okay, well as she could given the situation, riding out a contraction and holding on to the sturdy frame of her workbench.

“I’m getting more towels, hang on Char!” Laura shouted, hoping her boss would hear over the groans Char was making.

Waddling ever so slowly, the head sitting right behind her lips, Laura went off to the cupboard to find more towels. They’d soon need them.

Another contraction struck mere minutes after the last while Laura was in the cupboard but she was not as successful this time in staying on her feet. The force of the contracting muscles and slashing pain splitting her open brought her to her knees. She clung on to the shelf in front of her, her heavy belly squished between widened thighs, and she pushed hard wailing with the effort. The head was peaking through, pushing apart her folds in her underwear. But her body was driving this journey, Laura was just the passenger. After a solid minute the contraction let up and when she released the push with a gasp, the baby slipped back into the birth canal. With a trembling hand she felt the fabric between her legs, she was definitely bulging, but the head wasn’t crowning just yet. She breathed deeply, gathering her strength before getting back on her feet. She needed to get back with the extra towels, not just so she could birth her baby there but so she could help Char. She’d need a friend and the support right now, and so could Laura.

As Laura submitted, pushing freely and loudly as though nothing else mattered in the world except getting her baby out and getting it out now, Char resisted her baby’s inevitable birth. Panicked, she gulped in a breath, trying to ease up on her furious pushing as she felt the head filling her opening thoroughly. It was beginning to bulge her, though her lips remained shut. The pressure and incredible sensation of the head sitting low at her opening, almost ready to exit, was almost too much to bear. She mooed deeply, from the back of her throat. Her belly tightened even harder than before, squeezing her like a vice and she couldn’t help but push again. The baby strained against her opening, and she could feel her most delicate area distending obscenely.

“Oh god!” She cried, throwing her head back as her thighs spread and she pushed again and again uncontrollably. The urge was undeniable. She was subject to her body and right now, it was telling her to birth her baby. Here, now, into her trousers. She felt helpless. Out of control.

“It’s coming,” she moaned. “Ohhh, it’s coming!” She knew this deeply, intuitively, with an age-old maternal instinct. She was ready to birth her baby. But she felt alone and vulnerable.

“Laura,” she gasped, couldn’t say much more than that. “Laura, oh god, it’s coming and I’m pushing! I need to hold it in! Just a little longer!”

She could hear Char’s wailing from the corridor, becoming fast apparent the lead technician was losing her fight against the inevitable. With one arm carrying a load of towels, the other hand pressed against the wall as she waddled heavily back to the office. On walking into the room she saw her friend and colleague in a deep squat, white-knuckling the work bench, chin to chest and pushing. Loudly.

“Oh Char, it’s okay hun.” Laura shut the door behind her and dropped the towels beside her friend. “You have to breathe as well as push darling.” She said as she staggered to her own workbench and grabbed the medical supplies she’d collected. With the baby playing peek-a-boo into her underwear, Laura knew their time was almost up.

Cumbersomely, Laura got down to her knees beside her boss, putting the clamps and scissors on the pile of towels. “Shhhhh it’s okay Char, don’t fight it. Use that contraction and push with the pain.” Laura rubbed a hand up and down Char’s back, trying her best to support and encourage through this.

Unfortunately with their labors progressing in tandem, Laura’s role as carer was snatched away when the next contraction tore its way across her midsection. Instinctively, without intending to, her body was pushing with the pain and she could feel the baby start to leak through again and stretch apart her lips. She went to all fours and rocked, sinking backwards towards her heels whenever she had to bear down.

“Mnnnnghhhhhhh! Come on baby….” She groaned before gasping another breath and pushing hard again. She didn’t care that she was still in her work clothes, or that she was on the floor of a laboratory that was covered with two lots of amniotic fluid, she was simply following her instincts and soon the baby stopped slipping back in and stayed, keeping her lips in a perfect oval shape.

“Ohhhh god… I think it’s starting to c-crownnnn….” The assistant managed to huff when the contraction eventually dulled.

Char’s belly refused to fully relax at this point, now constantly flexing with forceful surging contractions, but there were brief moments of respite where she could pause in her pushing and some awareness returned to her. Laura, she realized, was beginning to tent her pants with pushing, on all fours with her back arched and her hips shoved forward, trying to make as much room for the large crowning head as possible. She was pushing the head into her clothes, Char realized, bulging them ridiculously, and between her spread thighs more fluids dripped and leaked. At the same time she processed this she realized that her own clothes had never been discarded, but she made no effort to remove them in her precious few moments before her body would force her baby further out of her. Instead she clung onto the naive hope that she’d miraculously stumble upon a cure while crowning into her pants, feeling the head beginning to press up against her underwear and part her lips slightly. Laura, she could tell, had offered less resistance to her body and had made more progress in her pushing, the head sitting permanently, she calculated from the bulge in Laura’s pants, at around a half-crown or more.

“Hey,” she croaked hoarsely, barely able to manage anything but grunts with her clenching belly. “You—you need to get your pants down, hun. Head’s coming out.”

Painstakingly, she began to squat down, moaning as the head was pressed back slightly into her sensitive lips by the tension of her underwear. It felt so low, so full, she needed to open up, she needed to push, relieve the immense pressure, yet her friend, yes friend, not just assistant, needed her. As she squatted low, she hooked her fingers around Laura’s waistline.

“I need, urgh, I need you to get your legs together. Mmmm, we gotta get your pants off, ‘kay?”

She was surprised to see Char moving in her peripheral vision, but Laura could pay no mind, for this baby wanted out and it wanted out now.

“Grhhhhh!!! It’s coming out… mnghh!” Laura cried into the next push, bearing down and feeling the head stretch her wider and wider. Her hips were so full, her pelvis felt like it could snap, the pressure of this baby’s head - this large and heavy mass - *needed* to come out.

Char’s attempt to remove her trousers was fruitless, though the black fabric was stretchy and comfortable with the expanding of her stomach, it was not elasticated enough to be pulled over the wide angle of her legs. The baby sat so low, right at her entrance, stretching her entrance wide with the emerging crown. There was no way in hell she would be able to put her legs closer together.

Instead, she widened them further. “Hmngh! Can’t… baby… coming…I have to pushhhh-mnghhhh!” Laura’s face sunk towards the floor, dropping to her elbows and opening up her hips to the skies. It was coming out, she could feel it sliding slowly out of her into her stretchy clothing. All she could do was push…. Pant and push again.

Char watched in utter fascination as Laura pushed with total abandonment, entirely consumed with the baby coming out of her, every last thought focused on the overwhelming, intense, undeniable urge to push. The bulge in Laura’s pants grew, stretched her thinly and Char could scarcely believe that such a huge head could come from her, pass through such a narrow opening with so much force. She removed her fingers from Laura’s waistline, realizing the impossibility of such a task at this stage in Laura’s labor. She was pushing it out into her pants, and there was nothing Char could do about that except cup the growing bulge as it emerged from Laura’s opening into the straining fabric.

It was terrifying, watching Laura push without regard for anything else. As she felt a powerful contraction wrack her own reddened, exhausted belly, she knew there was no stopping this. She was giving birth and was about to push a baby out into her pants exactly as Laura was doing now. She growled fiercely, deep in her squat—the perfect position. Her knees jackknifed and she opened her hips as wide as they could go. Against her opening the fabric of her underwear arched with the coming head as she bore down immensely. Her face turned bright red with her hardest push yet.

“Oh GODDDD!” She bellowed. “It’s COMING, I’m pushing it OOUUUTTTT!”

Her lips parted, wider and wider, trembling and convulsing around the head as it burned and stretched her. She jerked, trying to escape the ring of fire and yet she couldn’t stop pushing for a minute. She was in the final stages now, and the only way the burn would stop was when she had pushed her baby into the world. Instinct took over completely. This was what her body needed her to do. This was what SHE needed to do.

Even though they were consumed with their own births, Laura found comfort that at least they were together through this. Each laboring woman was not alone.

But the strength required to birth these babies, who didn’t even exist 24 hours ago, would be down to the mother. Gasping for air Laura pushed again with everything she had, through the pressure and pain and the burning ring of fire that had her mouth open in a silent scream. The baby’s head had to be almost out by now, surely!?

Despite being beside each other Char’s bellowing voice seemed so far away to Laura. Nothing else registered beside the baby being born into her pants. She growled with another push and suddenly yelped when the head slipped fully out.

“Oh my god oh my god…” Laura muttered over and over and pushed herself back up on her knees. She scrambled at the waistband of her elasticated trousers and pulled them down to her knees along with her underwear. Her baby, she had to get to her baby, the maternal instinct cried in her head. With a trembling hand she felt the newly born baby’s head that was now wedged between her thighs. “Hi…. baby… oh my gosh you’ve got hair!” Laura was in shock, but also in awe of what her body had just done.

It was only after the head was born that Laura properly heard the cries of her friend. “Char…” she muttered and saw the other woman squatting and huffing, red-faced, chin to chest, with an obscene bulge protruding from her clothes between her wide legs.

“Oh my god Char! Your baby is coming out!”

Had Char any piece of mind she might have answered with her customary sarcasm: oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed. Instead, the only sound that emerged from her mouth was a long lowing wail that only deepened and became more guttural as the head filled her bottom so thoroughly, and it felt as though her pelvis was creaking open to allow the massive head through. She opened slowly, barely pausing to take a breath as she bore down without repose. Dimly, she was aware of Laura’s own baby dangling between her thighs, having pushed the huge head out, and with renewed efforts Char grunted the head further and further out. Her lips tautened and thinned, red with the stretch. The head reached a full crown and for a moment Char pushed and it didn’t move, solid mass wedged tightly in her opening. She gasped, scared for a moment that it was too big, that there was no way she could push something of this size out of her body.

Then she heard Laura cooing to the head between her legs, and something stirred within her. She realized that the dread she’d been facing was being replaced with something like motherhood, her body responding naturally, automatically, to Laura’s awe and wonder. Char realized that she wanted to meet this thing she had carried inside her for a mere twenty-four hours.

“C’mon BABYYYYY!” She shouted, bearing down furiously. Her lips slipped around the head, and then—with a splash of fluids and a grunt of relief, Char freed the head into her pants.

Laura watched in fascination as Char grunted the head further and further into her clothing, it was huge. Char had been fighting this throughout the entire pregnancy and in that moment Laura understood why some women balked so much away from birth. It was hard work. But then she saw a change in her friend, the way her eyebrows furrowed with determination, the slight readjustment of her hips as she took a breath; she was no longer fighting against her body and was readying herself to meet her child.

“You can do it Char, push!” Laura called as Char bore down. She wished she could move to support her friend physically but she was still mid-way through her own rapid birth to risk moving.

Tears begun to well in her eyes at the thought of their babies, the exhaustion of labor and the stress of the last 24 hours hammering her emotions.

By the time Char had birthed the head of her baby into her pants Laura was already feeling the pangs of the next contraction and the baby’s head turned slightly in the palm of her hand. “Oohhhhh… mhhh okay okay… you ready little one?” She panted, pulling in air through her nose, widening her legs apart to steady her balance and preparing herself to push again. Both hands were between her legs when the contraction really got going and all too soon she was pushing once more and felt the shoulders stretch apart her already sore lips.

With trembling fingers, Char reached down between her legs, feeling the hard slick roundness of the head she’d just pushed out between her legs. She gasped. The aftershocks of her contraction clutched at her belly.

“Oh… oh, my—that’s a baby. I just gave birth.”

The evidence was conclusive. But she could scarcely believe that she’d pushed an entire baby through her birth canal and out into her pants. The experience she’d just been through, the effort, the haze of contractions and the hard pushes as she focused on nothing but expelling her baby, and the intense sensations throughout her body. It was all unbelievable. Inching down the waistband of her trousers, Char struggled them to her shins and sank to her knees. She panted in disbelief, feeling instinctually that this was *right,* that this was what she was meant to be doing. Her identity had irreconcilably changed to that of a mother and as she caressed the head between her legs, she felt a rush of contentment. Char was a scientist, an expert in her field, but now it all paled in comparison.

She glanced up at Laura, seeing her shock and awe mirrored in her eyes as she lifted her baby from between her legs and rested it against her chest. Laura smiled exhaustedly at her.

Char began to pant as another contraction took hold.

“Ooh—“ she exclaimed. “You’re ready…. c’mon, you’re ready to be—UGH! BORN!”

Her baby slipped between her lips with a spray of fluids and immediately she sank to the floor, sighing in immense relief.

Laura fell silent with her final pushes, holding her breath as she bore down, the head filling her palm as the shoulders squeezed their way through. She gasped another breath and pushed with everything she had, this was it, she could feel it. Come on baby…

Once the shoulders were freed Laura wasn’t expecting the speed of which the baby slipped out and the hush of fluid that came with it. Catching the slippery newborn Laura gasped, relieved and shocked, and immediately brought the babe to her chest.

“Hey…. Oh my- hey baby.” She cooed, eyes welling with tears as she looked upon this little miracle that had grown in the last 24 hours. When the baby started to cry she instinctively rocked and hushed the infant “it’s okay… you’re okay.” She said, wiping the blood and fluid off the newborn's face.

Laura had barely caught her breath back when Char started pulling down her trousers and panted heavily, a baby’s head hanging between her open legs. A second later Char was mirroring Laura’s actions and pulling her own baby to her chest and sobbing with relief.

“You did it.” Laura said softly to her friend. “We did it. I can’t believe they’re real, we just had babies.”

The Spell might currently be a scientific mystery, but as the two women sat exhausted on the floor cradling their newborns, the research could wait. For now, the scientists were in awe of the new lives they’d just birthed.

[auroralwriting]

helping hands

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

after a rough case, spencer offers to help your muscles relax

word count: 1.0k

warnings: no y/n, pre-established relationship, pure fluff, absolute comfort fic, one small sexual innuendo, it's a short one, but sweet!

from, anon: hello! i'm a little nervous to request something this is actually my first time doing it! but i have an oddly specific request that i felt you would be able to bring to life beautifully. i was wondering if u would maybe be write something for Spencer giving the reader a massage on their back to try and help? just lots of fluffy love and extra extra bonus points if you add lots of kisses

Physically demanding cases were the worst. Sure, dealing with psychopaths was tough, but chasing them down or fighting them was probably worse.

This specific case, the unsub was actually an award-winning tri-athlete. He put up a good chase, and then an even better fight. Usually, Derek took the brunt of these, but with him checking out the secondary location, it was you and Kate, who was pregnant.

Of course you weren't going to let a pregnant woman do all that work, so you kept her back and took as much of the brunt as she'd let you take. Thankfully, you both got out nearly unharmed, just with a few minor cuts, scratches, and bruises.

The one issue that you didn't account for was hurting your back, again. The last time you'd gotten hurt was during a case in Atlanta where you fell down a flight of stairs after being pushed by the unsub. You'd sustained some pretty nasty back injuries. Even after they had healed, some of your muscles overcompensated for the others, causing you to have back pain flare ups.

Normally, you could keep them at bay with simple stretches and some medication. This time, you realized that you'd done a number on your back during the fight.

Spencer took quick note of your posture during the flight home. You struggled to find a comfortable position, constantly trying to stretch your back or shoulder blades, seeking any form of relief from the pain. He knew how much you hated being put under a microscope, especially in front of the team, so he kept quiet until you arrived back to your shared apartment.

Walking in, you sighed as you kicked off your shoes, not caring how or where they landed on the floor as you bolted to the couch, flopping down on it. You were honestly too tired and in pain to care. Spencer chuckled in the background, and you could hear him set your shoes down on the shoe rack you had.

Your eyes, which had been previously shut, opened to see Spencer kneeling in front of you. "Hi, pretty girl." Spencer smiled at you, brushing some of your hair out of your face with a loving look gracing his features.

"Hi," you softly replied.

"You feeling alright?" Spencer now caressed your cheek with his thumb softly. "I noticed you stretching a lot on the jet."

With a small shake of your head, your lips fell into a soft pout. "I hurt my back, I think."

Spencer gently grabbed your arms and help you sit up. He carefully slid your coat down your arms with furrowed brows. "Did you get hit?"

"No," you answered, "I think I twisted my back wrong when I tried to jump in front of Kate. I think I felt it hurt then, but I had a lot of adrenaline."

"You were in flight-or-fight mode," Spencer nodded. "Now that you're safe and sound, you're gonna feel it more." His large hands slowly rubbed at your tense shoulders. He felt your body relax beneath his touch. "You want me to massage you a little, love?"

A sigh of contentment escaped your lips as his hands worked magic on your shoulders, "Please, Spence."

Spencer moved your body so you were laid down. He set a pillow beneath your head as you got yourself situated and comfortable.

Spencer had prepared for this moment for what felt like his whole life. You weren't dating when your first injury occurred, but after going out for a few dates, Spencer bought seven books, all on muscles in the back, massage techniques, and different pain relieving strategies all for this exact moment. You were careful with your injury, and Spencer trusted you, but he also understood that accidents and situations like these happen, especially in your shared line of work.

The sounds of your soft hums and sighs were a sign that Spencer was doing all the right things. You knew Spencer had magic fingers, but this was the best work they'd ever done. He worked out the kinks and aches in your back.

"Did you know that roses have been cultivated since ancient times, with evidence of their cultivation dating back to the Babylonians and the Egyptians around five-thousand years ago?" Spencer rambled, his voice quiet as he worked.

You loved Spencer's rambles, "Mm-mm." you hummed, "Why?"

"They were used for their fragrance and beauty. It lead to their association with the Egyption goddess, Hathor, and then to the Greek goddess Aphrodite, and so on." Spencer explained further.

Without warning, you turned over to look up a him. Spencer smiled down at you as you softly grabbed his neck, pulling him closer to press a kiss onto his lips.

"I love your brain," You commented with a smile, watching his face light up at the compliment.

"I'm not done yet, silly girl. Roll back over for me." Spencer chuckled.

Giggling, you rolled back onto your stomach as Spencer began to work into your back. You felt his hot breath over the back of your neck as he began to trail kisses downwards, down your spine. You shivered at the touch, smiling to yourself when he moved back up to press a gentle kiss onto your head.

"I don't think masseuses normally get this touchy," you joked.

Spencer shook his head, "They don't, but my client's just too pretty."

"Are you done yet?" You turned your head to look at him.

"Do you feel any better?" Spencer asked.

You sat up, moving your arms and gently twisting your back. "Mhm, thank you, baby."

"Then yes," Spencer smiled, "I'm all done. What's the rush?"

"I wanted to watch Doctor Who before we get too sleepy." You replied, then giving a soft roll to your eyes, "Or before we get called in again."

Spencer sighed, "Don't even say it. I don't think I can handle another case for at least two weeks." He took your hand as you leaned into him. He grabbed the remote and clicked the tv on. "But I'm never one to say no to Doctor Who and my girl."

"Thank you for helping," You lovingly said, snuggling into your boyfriend's chest.

"Anytime, lovely."

[joemama-2]

men who get nearly, if not as emotional as you during sex.

okay so think about it, they wouldn’t usually label themselves as emotional or sensitive. they’re supposed to be strong with sometimes a mask of indifference. they’ve only ever shed tears a handful of times in their life. not many things can make them break down so easily. but you know what does?

your warm, slippery cunt.

if there was one drug they would be addicted to, it would be your soft walls that eagerly suck him right back in. the first time it happened, he actually thought he died and came back to life. but no, the hot tears that land in your cheek as your sprawled out beneath him bring him back to reality.

maybe it’s just because it’s the first time, he thinks.

again, no.

it happens every time. it’s almost annoying and maddening. it’s like a switch flips in his brain, his mind, and soul once he’s deep in you, pounding you like he needs to. over time, you caught onto the tears and wrecked expression on his face and god, it somehow gets you even more wet.

“shh, shh. please, please be more quiet.” he whispers pathetically against your lips, his own trembling ones having to kiss your moans down. his tears coat your skin as he works simultaneously at keeping your mouth shut, but also being the reason as to why you need it shut in the first place.

“please baby, god…y-you feel so good.”

his sobs and cries make you pull him closer by either his face, shoulders, or neck, whispering soft and sweet praises into his ear. you think you’re helping, but you’re really not. if anything, you’re making him cry more.

but he’s not the only one shedding tears. you’ve always been a crybaby and he used every chance he gets to tease you about it. that consists of him scaring you too much even when he wasn’t even trying to in the first place, stubbing your toe into a stubborn corner, watching a scene you know will make you cry, or when he raises his voice at you.

you always cry.

you think it’s karma for him chastising you for not being able to go five seconds without the waterworks when he can’t even go one pump without sobbing like a desperate man.

your guys’ tears mix together into a slobby mess and sex with him is never clean. it always ends with rags being used to clean whatever liquid was emitted or squirted during the entirety of it.

however at the same time, sex with him is different. it’s magical, as stupid as it sounds. it’s completely pure and it’s love in its most precious form.

his tears showcase the ever loving amount of affection he has for you.

“ ‘m gonna cum….” he breathlessly mutters. “cum with me, please baby. i need it.”

he begs like a man in heat.

but like the sweet girl you are, you always give in, always finishing with him.

————————————————

jjk: gojo, nanami, ijichi, choso, ino, getou, higuruma, maybe toji?

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Dream a Little Dream

Dark Witch!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Word count: 2K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Somnophila, dubcon, cnc, possesiveness, magic used like a drug

Authors notes: Mmmmmm somno

Agatha stepped through the door of the dimly lit house, her coat trailing behind her like a shadow, the soft sound of her boots against the floor the only noise breaking the stillness. The air was heavy with the scent of burning candles, herbs, and faint remnants of her last spell, lingering from her earlier work. It had been a long night of ritual casting, ancient incantations still tingling at her fingertips, but none of it compared to the pull she felt when she thought of you.

Her sharp eyes scanned the room, looking for you. The usual stirrings of life and warmth you brought to the home were missing. It only took her a moment to notice the faint glow of candlelight spilling out from the slightly ajar door of the bedroom. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She could feel you before she even opened the door—a soft, sweet energy that always welcomed her, even in your dreams.

Quietly, Agatha pushed the door open, her smile deepening when she found you curled up in bed, already fast asleep. You looked so peaceful, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. You had fallen asleep without her, completely oblivious to the darkness she carried with her from her rituals.

"Couldn't wait for me, could you, darling?" she whispered, more to herself than to you, her voice laced with affection and a hint of possessiveness.

She leaned against the doorframe for a moment, just watching you. Her fingers itched with the desire to reach out, to touch you, but she held back—for now. 

There was something about seeing you like this, so unguarded, so trusting in her presence. It stirred something deep within her, a dark satisfaction knowing that you were hers, even when you were unaware.

With a flick of her wrist, the lights in the room dimmed further, the shadows deepening around the bed. She slowly unfastened her coat, letting it drap over the chair in the corner, her footsteps almost soundless as she approached. Her eyes never left you, drinking in every inch of your resting form, how your body moved ever so slightly beneath the covers, your lips slightly parted in sleep.

"Such a good little thing," she purred softly, her fingers grazing the bedpost as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Her magic rippled through the air, wrapping around you like a second skin, keeping you tethered in your dreamscape, ensuring that you wouldn’t wake just yet.

Agatha leaned down, her lips hovering over your temple as she whispered, “Did you miss me, darling? I know you did.”

Her touch lingered there for a moment, just enough to make her presence known even in your dreams. She could feel the pull, the way your body unconsciously reacted to her proximity, even in sleep. It made her heart race, her desire for you stirring beneath the surface, dark and all-consuming.

Agatha lingered by your side, the edges of her dark power curling around the room like smoke, thickening the air with something almost tangible. She brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her fingers featherlight as they ghosted along your skin. You stirred faintly, shifting in your sleep, but her magic kept you locked in your dream world. A soft, pleased smile spread across her lips as she felt you relax again beneath her touch.

“Always so sweet for me, even in sleep,” she murmured, her voice velvet-smooth and dripping with affection. Her hand moved to your shoulder, tracing a lazy path down the length of your arm, as if savoring every inch of you. She paused when her fingers reached the hem of the blanket, her eyes flickering with a darker intent.

Gently, carefully, Agatha peeled the blanket back, revealing your body to the cool air of the room. Her breath caught as she took in the sight of you, still peaceful, still vulnerable, your chest rising and falling in time with your steady breaths. She could feel her desire for you deepening with every second that passed.

Her fingers danced along the edge of your sleepwear, tracing the fabric where it clung to your body. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against the soft skin of your neck, her breath warm as she whispered against you. "Do you know how much I crave you, even when you're like this? Especially when you're like this? You're mine—always mine."

She could feel the magic within her thrumming with anticipation, pulsing with the temptation to lose herself in you completely. But for now, she kept herself tethered, her control a thin thread that could snap at any moment. There was something so intoxicating about having you like this, in this state, where she could take her time—where every touch, every whisper was hers to control.

Slowly, her hand slid beneath the fabric of your nightclothes, her fingers gliding over your skin, warm and soft beneath her touch. You shifted again, a quiet sound escaping your lips as your body instinctively reacted to her, even in sleep. Agatha's smile widened, her heart pounding with dark satisfaction.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she purred, her lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll take care of you… even when you can’t ask for it.”

Her other hand followed, tracing over your body in slow, deliberate strokes, her touch growing more possessive with every passing moment. She watched the way your breathing hitched, your body reacting to her without thought, without reason, and it made her pulse quicken with a heady rush of power. You were so completely at her mercy, and the thrill of that realization sent a shiver down her spine.

She lowered herself beside you, her body pressing gently against yours as she settled into the bed, her lips grazing your collarbone now, leaving a trail of warm, fleeting kisses. “So perfect,” she whispered, her voice dark and honeyed. "So mine."

Agatha’s hand slipped further, her fingers ghosting over your abdomen, drawing soft, lazy circles as she continued to explore your skin. The tension in the room thickened as her touch grew bolder, more possessive. Every time you stirred in your sleep, she felt the rush of control tighten around her, and it made her desire burn hotter, deeper.

“You have no idea what you do to me, even like this,” she murmured, her lips pressing softly against your shoulder, her fingers teasing at the edge of your sleepwear.

Her magic pulsed again, wrapping itself around you, keeping you in your slumber, ensuring you were hers—body, mind, and soul. Agatha’s hunger for you deepened, the dark witch relishing every moment of your vulnerability, every breath you took in her presence. And she wasn’t done yet.

Not even close.

Agatha’s fingers slipped lower, tracing the curve of your waist as her lips pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin. You shifted again beneath her, the soft sound of your breath catching in your throat making her smirk in delight. The magic she’d woven around you pulsed softly, binding you to sleep, keeping you in that perfect, blissful unawareness as she toyed with your body.

Her lips hovered just above your ear as she whispered, her voice a low, sultry murmur. “You’re so beautiful like this, darling. Completely helpless… completely mine.”

Her hands wandered slowly, deliberately, taking their time to explore the dips and curves of your body, reveling in the way your muscles twitched beneath her touch. She loved knowing that even in your slumber, your body responded to her, as if it instinctively knew who it belonged to.

Agatha’s eyes darkened with hunger as her hand ghosted over your stomach, teasing the edge of your underwear, her thumb brushing lightly against the fabric. She could feel the heat radiating from you, and it only made her desire burn hotter. She leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “I wonder… if you’ll wake up when I touch you here…”

Her hand dipped lower, sliding beneath the thin fabric. The second her fingers made contact with your clit, a soft gasp escaped your lips, and Agatha couldn’t help the wicked smile that spread across her face. She moved slowly, her touch gentle but firm, teasing you in slow, deliberate strokes, her magic keeping you right on the edge of consciousness.

“Do you like that?” she murmured, her voice dripping with possessiveness. “Even in your dreams, you’re aching for me, aren’t you?”

Your body responded to her touch, your hips shifting slightly, a quiet moan slipping from your lips. Agatha’s breath hitched, her eyes dark with desire as she watched you writhe beneath her. Every sound you made, every movement you gave her, only fueled the fire inside her. She wanted to devour you, to claim every part of you, body and soul.

But she wasn’t in any rush. Not tonight.

Agatha’s lips pressed against your throat, her teeth grazing your skin as she quickened the pace of her hand, her touch growing more insistent. She could feel the way your body tensed beneath her, the quiet whimpers that escaped your lips only making her pulse race faster. “That’s it, darling,” she purred, her voice low and commanding. “Just let go for me…”

Her fingers worked you expertly, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you, watching with wicked delight as your body arched beneath her, your breath coming in soft, shallow gasps. You were so close—she could feel it, the way your muscles tensed, your thighs pressing together as you teetered on the edge.

But Agatha wasn’t done with you yet.

Just as you were about to tip over, she pulled her hand away, leaving you gasping, desperate for more. She grinned down at you, her eyes glinting with dark satisfaction as she watched your body tremble, your chest heaving as you hovered on the brink of release. “Not yet, darling,” she whispered, her voice dripping with control. “I decide when you get to fall.”

She leaned down, her lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss, her fingers brushing gently over your cheek. “You’ll get what you need… when I’m ready to give it to you.”

Agatha shifted beside you, her body pressing against yours as she slid her hand back down, her touch even slower now, more teasing, as if savoring every moment of your desperation. She loved the way your body reacted to her, the way your hips unconsciously sought more of her touch, more of the pleasure she was so expertly denying you.

“You belong to me,” she whispered, her voice low and commanding, her magic wrapping tighter around you, binding you to her will. “And I’ll take care of you… when I’m ready.”

Her hand resumed its slow, torturous rhythm, teasing you right back to the edge, keeping you on the brink, your body aching for release. She could feel the tension building again, your muscles quivering beneath her touch, and it only made her want you more.

With a wicked grin, she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Now… let go for me.”

Her fingers moved faster, pressing harder, and within moments, your body arched beneath her, a soft cry escaping your lips as pleasure crashed over you, waves of ecstasy pulsing through every inch of you. Agatha watched with dark satisfaction as you came undone beneath her, completely at her mercy, completely hers.

As you lay there, your body still trembling from the intensity of your release, Agatha leaned down, her lips pressing softly against your forehead. “Good girl,” she whispered, her voice soft but commanding. “Now rest… you’ve pleased me tonight.”

With one last lingering touch, Agatha pulled away, settling beside you, her fingers running gently through your hair as you slipped back into a deeper, dreamless sleep, completely unaware of how thoroughly she had claimed you.

And as she lay there, her magic still wrapped around you like a protective shroud, Agatha smiled, her heart racing with dark satisfaction.

You were hers—always.

[woodland-gremlin]

Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 2

Previous AU Summary

This post is dedicated @fanfics-or-dragons who wrote part of the post. I will put their part in bold. I would suggest checking them out, they write some really interesting stuff.

Previously:

The con man opened his mouth, looking like he was losing his mind, before just shutting his mouth and contemplated how his life got to this point. He was just fine conning demons, detective work for the occult, and doing the occasional good deed, but no,  he just had to get involved with the League of Goody-Two-Shoes who have no idea how to handle the supernatural. He was getting flashbacks to the time he realized that the Bats had no idea that they had a city spirit watching over them (he refuses to be the one to explain that to them). Or having to deal with the Flashes saying that magic wasn’t real. He wasn’t paid enough for the shit the League puts him through.

Constantine was always happy that there wasn't a teen version of the JLD cause he didn't want to have to chase kids around a bunch of demons, monsters, and other badies he deals with daily.

He is only now realizing that because there wasn't a teen version of the JLD that the young Justice team also dealt with the supernatural world just without any adult supervision cause none of the JLD or JL knew that they were. It was like they were trying to send him to an early grave. He blames Bats, he was the one to drag him into this crazy fest. You help a guy with something supernatural once and then suddenly you are a consultant to his Do-Gooder Club for anything involving the supernatural.

“And how and why do you know that Pariah isn’t the King anymore?” Constantine asked through grit teeth.

Supernova stills, finally realizing the danger of the line of questioning. He couldn’t lie, his crummy template would tattle on him immediately. But at the same time he couldn’t just avoid the question without people getting suspicious. So that left the last option. Being as vague as possible.

“Someone from the Infinite Realms mentioned it,” Supernova said with false casualness.

“What?”

While most of the League just looked confused, almost every member of the JLD looked like he just told them he invited Trigon to a tea party. Constantine especially looked pale, similar to how Danny looked in human form. Half-dead wasn't a good look on him.

“You’re saying that a citizen of the Infinite Realms, which is literally the glue of the multiverse, just told you that Pariah wasn’t their King anymore?!” the sad trench coat man asked desperately.

“Well, it was more like an example of how some of their rules work,” Supernova stated with no filter.

“That makes even less sense!” Constantine screeched, “Most of the citizens of that realm are beings of emotion that literally come into being knowing how things work. They don’t work by our rules and certainly don’t explain theirs. And you're telling me that they sat down and explained the rules without you losing your soul?! And that you understood what they were explaining too?! The rules that have been driving those in the occult crazy trying to figure out so they can avoid them without offending them??”

Supernova laughs nervously. “Well when you put it like that it sounds insane.”

“Because it is!” Constantine screams, “They literally say ‘hi’ by fighting each other. Not to mention even if they don’t try to purposely hurt you they often do due to how fragile we are compared to them. Even their weakest would be a challenge to our heavy hitters!”

To be continued . . .

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