#And about the obsession with the age thing i don’t know some people never stop viewing young celebrities

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: FUSHIGURO

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. Anon. I love you and hate you for this request. This was…hard. I told myself I wouldn’t publish it unless it was fucking perfect (you should see the scalpels I took to each goddamn sentence before this version).

SECOND: I will square up with Gege for writing the most enigmatic, LAYERED, complex, muddled character to exist. I wanted this to be Megumi. Through and through. His darkness, his light, his reservation, his crazy, all in one. And IDK. I think I did it? This one is purely to prove to myself that I can write for characters that are hard to write for (*cough* yuta im glaring at you *cough*)

THIRD: if you do read this (I get people feel things about aged up characters etc), I implore you to listen to this. Guys. I heard this at 0200 IN THE OR during a 6 hour case and the entire concept for this came to me. Meg is sophisticated and unruly, selfless and selfish, etc. So this has some NSFW but definitely probably more on the poetic, long ends of my works.

CW: Aged up characters (20+), college AU, fluffy/raunchy/dark romance-y because LOOK at him. He takes after Gojo AND Toji. Mature, 18+

“You like it when I’m rough.”

Megumi’s melody rings crystal clear.

Low.

Precise.

An F-14 Tomcat fighter jet, flying dark. Below enemy radar.

The piano keys float beneath his tone. His long, slender, deft fingers effortlessly execute the sheet music before him. It’s his GPS system, a personal flight map.

Little Beethoven, his advanced music theory professor calls him.

Truth is, Megumi is a prolific pianist and vocalist. He can tame any note, any melody, any harmony faster than any of his Shikigami.

Speaking of…

Megumi pulls off the piano and tortured love song in an instant. Just as the grade 3 curse creeps through the open door.

The part between his right long and ring fingers is automatic. His left hand grips the web space between his right thumb and index finger.

“Demon dog.” Megumi summons.

Low. Precise. Decisive.

“Eat it, boy.”

A small, approving smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Low level curses are the nothing more than chew toys to his divine dogs. With a tiny wave of his fingers, his technique buzzes inward.

Megumi’s eyes float to the ancient analog clock on the wall.

13:50

10 more minutes until you’ll meet him for your date.

No. Not date.

Study. 10 more minutes until you’re meeting him to study.

Your thought blooms within him like wildfire. It sets his normally cool, porcelain skin ablaze.

Megumi whips his body around to face the piano. To exorcise the feeling. The keyboard has always been his outlet. His life blood. Playing, singing, musing in and out of written songs is his catharsis.

Words don’t come easy. They never have. But lyrics do.

And when he gets to ride lyrics with his voice, his runs..?

The words he can never find on his own are suddenly out there. In the atmosphere. Coating empty rooms in a mist of his thoughts, his feelings.

No certain promise that the person the words are destined for will ever catch them. Or ever walk through the room and be kissed by the remnants of his musical trail. But Megumi has said (sung, played) them. And that’s enough.

“Sorry if I come across a type of way.”

“I’ve been trying to get out of my way…”

His fingers dive into the keys. Angrily. Earnestly.

“I know it doesn’t seem like I care, but you know I care—“

“Wow Meg, you sound incredible.”

You bring him to an abrupt stop. Your voice is maple syrup trailing down Megumi’s neck, leaving goosebumps in its candied wake.

Pitch fucking perfect.

A soft, ethereal C, gliding down Heaven’s staircase. You infuse sunlight into his name, whichever way you choose to say it.

And it’s hell. It’s cruel. To have as keen hearing as he does. To listen to you sing his name and have nothing else follow.

“Fushiguro.” Megumi shoots up from his seat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“What?”

“Fushiguro.” He repeats, eyes briefly meeting yours before settling above your head. He’s at least a head and shoulders taller.

“Nobody calls me Meg.”

You throw your head back. Feather light crescendo in your laughter. It’s pretty. Tantalizing in the way chandeliers twinkle when they capture a beam of light.

His eyes dart down to catch the feminine column of your neck. Curving into your delicate collar bones. How are your lines so seamless?

So cinematic. Like he’s watching a figure skater land a triple axel. Or a prima ballerina en pointe. It’s not fathomable.

Gorgeous.

You are gorgeous.

“I call you Meg.” You retort with a smile that liquifies all of his joints.

You double your walking speed to keep pace with Megumi’s long strides. Both of you exit the sound engineering building. Heading straight for the campus library a couple blocks away.

“Who were you—oh,” Megumi’s glacial hand along the small of your back steals your voice away.

Your eyes and feet follow his gentle push, shifting you to the other side of him.

“Walking on the wrong side.” He mutters, monotone. Matter-of-fact. Obviously.

He’s a gentleman. Of course he is going to walk on the traffic facing edge of the sidewalk.

Of course he didn’t feel the electric currents wire through his fingers to clench — suffocate — his heart.

No, he didn’t hear that punched out, falsetto gasp when his hand cradled your perfectly tapered waist.

Or notice how well you fit into his hand. How light you are under his touch that had none of his real strength behind it.

You’re made of alluring lines. Intoxicating sounds.

What would it take to coax a pretty melody out of your pouty lips?

His fingers?

They’re long. And smart. Cold. Remarkably patient. You’d like them.

He could make you love them.

Crave them. Need, whimper, whine, and cry out for them.

“So who was it?” You tether him to reality.

“Who was what?” Megumi counters, leading you to a private study room.

“The way you were singing earlier.”

Hairs along the back of his neck stand at attention. Blood runs Siberian cold. Megumi’s gaze on you is subzero.

“It had to be for someone.” You lower down into a seat in slow motion.

The sweetheart neckline of your sundress is mean. Your supple mounds tilt and ripple with every micro movement. Megumi has forgotten why he’s glaring at you.

“You sound too…pretty. It can’t be wasted on thin air.” You continue.

“She must be—“

“Let’s just get started, okay?” He sharply redirects the conversation.

And promptly shifts gear to low autopilot. He’ll speak when spoken to, answer questions intermittently. But his mind’s true coordinates are a galaxy away.

Megumi retreats to his shadow garden.

Watching you.

Drinking you in.

Savoring each detail on his tastebuds like dessert.

The pencil eraser leaves an indent on your bottom lip where you’ve been pressing too hard.

Megumi wants to roll your bottom lip under his teeth. Until it flushes rose and swells beneath his relentless pull.

His eyes fall to your bracelet, far too big for your dainty wrist.

He could hold both of your wrists in one hand above your head or behind your back for hours. Without breaking a sweat.

His other hand would take its time.

To stroke you. Pet you. Learn your sheet music. Then play your body like a harp until you’re a chorus of beautiful, soprano whimpers and moans. Begging and pleading so prettily, enticing him to give in.

But he won’t.

Not until you’re soft enough. A babbling, warm, ruined brook beneath his fingers.

Then he’ll take you, gorgeous.

Searing pain from his sharp swallow and nails digging into his thighs rip him down to the present.

Vision a little fuzzy. Head a revolving door of vulgar scenarios. A dull, demanding ache between his legs draws his eyes to his lap.

Fucking hell.

His jeans are uncomfortable. He’s stiff and needy. Not nearly enough strength in his pants to hold back his drunken arousal.

Not to the mention, the—

swarm of shadows growing at his feet?

Is his…innate domain materializing around him right now?

Megumi aggressively slices through the air at his hip level. Below the table, but you don’t miss his sudden stirring.

“Meg? You okay over—“

“Going to the bathroom.” He gruffs through a clenched jaw. Megumi places his forearm over his crotch before hurrying out of the room.

He can barely recognize the man in the mirror. Flushed to his ears. Volcanoes threatening eruption in his eyes. Api Biru. Pure, triple distilled, blue lava coursing through his veins.

Snap out of it, Fushiguro.

The splash of cold water does nothing for his internal heat. But his milky complexion returns to its effervescent state.

But then he turns a little too quickly to leave. And his painfully hard length drags along his fabric. It’s blinding.

A feeble moan tumbles out of his tight lips.

“Fuck.”

Megumi slams his eyes shut. He needs to readjust. But if he touches himself now, he might not be able to stop.

A slow, steadying breath fills his lungs.

“Just adjust, don’t…” His voice trails off. Icey fingers around his hot, angry base is enough to rip the carpet from beneath his feet.

“Oh, fuck.” Megumi mumbles through one quick pump up his shaft.

He shakes his head as if to tell himself enough. He rests his erection along his thigh before zipping up. Still painful, but tolerable.

A tornado obliterates any remaining resolve in Megumi’s mind on his walk back to you.

You are a dream.

Or a nightmare? A curse?

It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t care less.

Megumi would follow you. Deeper than the crypts of his 10 shadows. Into hell if it meant he could have you the way he wants you.

The way he craves you.

Because fuck the cost.

He’d pay anything.

You’re working on an elaborate concept diagram on the white board. On the tip of your toes. Lip curled under your teeth. And you are just irresistible.

So, he won’t resist.

“Meg! Took you a bit, you okay?”

Megumi is silent. Unblinking. Sauntering toward you.

“Megumi?”

You lower to the soles of your shoes. Neck craning to look at his face. Your eyes widen at his persistent silence. Rosy heat dusting your cheeks.

Pretty little doe, rooted in place by his wolfish glare.

Megumi takes the marker out of your hand and tosses it behind him in one swift motion.

“Hmm,” a tiny acknowledgment of his name. Just because it sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue.

Megumi corners you against the wall. Both of his hands casually in his pockets.

He watches you shift. Flicker your eyes in every direction. Fiddle with your thumbs.

His quiet.

His presence.

It flusters you. Well before he’s gotten the chance to run his hands along the lazy curve of your waist and hips.

“So…so blue.” You stammer. Your warm eyes metronome between his.

“They are.”

Megumi steps impossibly closer. His eyes drop to your chest. Dainty, nervous heaves. Up and down. Up and down.

“You are so,” you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze. “hard to read.”

Megumi snakes his large, graceful fingers into your nape. The temperature difference between your warmth and his cold startles you deeper into his grasp. Your head evanesces into his pull.

A beautiful, shocked gasp escapes you. Just as Megumi’s lips trace the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

His breaths collide with yours, now. Heat welling deep in his groin. His cock thunders against his thigh.

“Can you read that?” Megumi rasps. Ensuring his voice vibrates down your spine.

A new sound tumbles from your lips. Like you choked on your last swallow. How pretty. You gurgling and gagging like that.

“W-want me? Megumi wh—“

“I.” Megumi nudges his thigh between your legs. His steel pipe erection digs into your dewy, hot core. He angles his leg slightly upward, inching you on the tip of your toes.

His prima ballerina, en pointe.

“Want you.” His lips ghost against yours. Free hand cups the flesh beneath your thigh. Pads of his fingers twitching to dig in.

The two of you drink in this lock-in-key fit. Megumi revels in you. Like this. At his complete mercy.

The prodigal son, born with more power than he knows what to do with.

Ten shadows. Ten Shikigami. It’s been centuries since the last head of his bloodline had power buzzing beneath his fingertips like him.

And somehow he’s never felt more powerful than this.

With you, heaven’s most precious angel, cradled in his arms. Drowning in sinful ecstasy. He brands this freeze frame into the most permanent part of his memory.

Then, he free falls off your cliff edge.

Megumi takes your lips with unfettered greed. Hunger woven into the way his tongue traces every corner of your delectable, soft mouth. His fingers push your head deeper into him. Sucking and nibbling on your warm muscle.

You shower him with airy, choppy little pants. Moans and whines so light they crescendo to fairy dust. You can’t keep up with his bruising kiss. His other hand palms your thigh, kneading little bruises into your silky smooth skin.

Marking what’s his.

“Oh my god.”

You breathe into his mouth when he lets you up for air. Megumi’s eyes dart down to the meeting point of your sex and his muscular thigh.

Did you really think he wouldn’t notice how you’re rutting your pretty little cunt against his leg like that?

Crimson high on your cheeks. You look away when he tries to catch your fucked out gaze.

“Don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” His hand traces up to your hips. You preen into his firm grip.

“Megumi.”

“Don’t stop, pretty girl.” He forcefully moves your hips in more dramatic, languid, deep rolls against his thigh. He’s not paying any mind to the pool of his precum soaking through his pants.

You bury your head in his neck. Fingernails digging pretty crescent moons into his back. You take over the pace. Undulating against him. Shameless. In complete heat.

“You feel s-so…so good.” Your lips smear against his dampened neck. Megumi responds by circling your puffy, slick bud with his fingers.

And fuck. The slurred, broken whimper that rings in his ears.

The way you hump him even more sloppily.

He could finish from that alone.

Your hand flies to your mouth. Empty huffs spilling. Whines ascending in pitch. You are close.

“Such pretty sounds, baby.”

“Megumi…meg..I-“

“Let it out.” He grips the back of your neck. Feeling dangerously close to his own nirvana. Drunk off your precious melody.

“Sing for me.”

“F-fuck, GOD.”

You bite down on his neck. Waves of pleasure crashing into you like hurricane winds. He grips your waist steady. Feeling every involuntary twitch and jerk of your doll-like frame.

Blessing or curse?

He doesn’t know.

But he will follow you to the end of his lifetime and the next.

“God, Fushiguro. That was…” The lusty haze from your peak settles around you. The once shattered world, slowly pieces itself back together.

“No.” Megumi pulls you out of his neck. Dropping his lips to yours, so he can breathe the air directly from your lungs.

“Meg. You call me Meg.”

#jjk fanfic #jjk fanart #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi smut #megumi x y/n #jjk fluff #gojo smut #geto smut #jjk season 2 #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #yuta smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jjk x y/n #jjk geto #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x y/n #megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader

[hijackalx]

BG3 CHARACTERS REACTING TO BEING CALLED DADDY/MOMMY +18

characters included: karlach, astarion, halsin, gale, gortash

KARLACH

LOVES being called mama/mommy. probably suggests that you call her that before you can even bring it up

kind of plays into the caregiver role but only to an extent. it definitely feels like a character she shifts into. plays it VERY good though

usually something she reserves just for sex. if she calls herself mommy otherwise it’s probably in a nonsexual, playful manner (unless she’s teasing, which will be VERY obvious)

on the other hand…. if you call her mommy outside of sex….. she will be acting accordingly (your hole is getting obliterated promptly)

really, REALLY sweet when she goes into mommy mode 😭 like i don’t think could be a hard dom mommy if she tried. the two just don’t mix for her. consists of lots of praise and kisses and cooing

ASTARION

i’m sure he’s heard it before, but it’s different coming from you. he’s definitely taken aback at first. has to think about how he feels about it LMAO

makes him feel old af 😹😹 but he’s lowkey a sucker for an age gap dynamic so he has mixed feelings

eventually accepts how hot it is. once he sees you falling apart beneath him whimpering “daddy, daddy, daddy—“ his soul is SNATCHED !!!!!!!

loves to refer to himself as daddy to see your reaction— SO obsessed with the effect it has on you. he thinks it’s so sweet. will also use it to get you to do what he wants (using his powers for evil fr)

honestly wouldn’t have thought to introduce it to your relationship but he’s literally a natural. he already has the patronizing soft dom thing down so it flows pretty easily 😹💗

GORTASH

THE DADDY OF ALL TIME. DO NOT EVEN SPEAK TO HIM IF YOU AREN’T GOING TO BEGIN AND END EVERY SENTENCE WITH “DADDY”

refers to himself as daddy CONSTANTLY. will also do it outside of sex. literally a cringe discord daddy dom. but like. sexy. (will call you kitten)

HARD and MEAN daddy dom. can occasionally be sweet with it during aftercare though— “daddy’s so proud of you”

hearing you call him daddy makes him sooo weak. you can honestly get him to do anything for you if you whine “daddy” in a needy enough tone 😈 bonus points if you call him daddy in public. 100% wants everyone to know that you call him that

also super into the sugar daddy thing. loves to shower you in gifts and money. definitely a prominent dynamic in your relationship

GALE

legit stops him in his tracks. he’s like a deer in headlights. has no idea how to react LMAO

never considered himself daddy material before. he’s excited that you do though (he’s pumping his fist in the air and whispering “yesss” 😹😹) it’s a huge compliment for him

kind of awkward using it during sex at the beginning, he just doesn’t want to sound weird or anything. but if you encourage him he gets more confident with it and it’s so, so good

has such a good personality for it in terms of attentiveness/caring for you. plays daddy extremely well but he’d never admit it (still doesn’t believe he’s daddy material 😹)

gets SO flustered if you call him daddy in front of other people. even though he thinks it’s super hot he’d prefer for it to stay your little secret— it’s kind of sexier that way anyway

HALSIN

the most normal about being called daddy. doesn’t think it’s some huge deal or anything— he’s heard it before and it doesn’t phase him

integrates it into your sex life really smoothly (and into your everyday life if you want that). doesn’t care at all if people overhear and lowkey can embarrass you with how much he will readily refer to himself as that in public 😹😹 if you wanted him to wear a badge that said “[name]’s daddy” he would LMAO

always coming up with ways to get you to say it during sex, usually offering some kind of reward for it if you catch my drift 😼

the best at the caregiver role. does it so casually and it seems very normal for him. has such a good, soothing tone of voice for it too

the only downside is that it almost feels like he’s not as into it as you are. i mean he is but he’s so lax about it because he’s just like “kink is normal who cares !!” but like damn a little enthusiasm PLEASE

#take a shot every time u read the word daddy !! (alcohol poisoning speedrun) #bg3 #bg3 headcanons #baldurs gate 3 #halsin #gale dekarios #enver gortash #astarion #karlach #halsin x reader #gale dekarios x reader #enver gortash x reader #astarion x reader #karlach x reader #x reader #my headcanons

[faux-ecrivain]

’Yan’ Roommate

(Eight Official Post)

(This one could be viewed as platonic obsession, also in this story you (the darling)  is at least 26-32. Of course, feel free to change the age.)

(Yandere’s name is Lucas)

Yan Roommate who only roomed with you because houses are expensive.

Yan roommate who absolutely despises you, not because you’re annoying, but because you’re nosey. (Always asking about his day, his dates and so on.)

Yan roommate who goes out of his way to sneak in when he’s been out late, just to avoid your questions. (It doesn’t work, obviously, you always stay up late waiting for him)

Yan roommate who absolutely cannot bring anyone over, because you immediately start acting as though he’s going to marry them. 

You beckon him to the kitchen, a mischievous smile on your face. “oh, Lucas, is that your date? She’s so cute!” You compliment his date, which makes Lucas somewhat uncomfortable. “Is she hungry? I made dinner!” You hand him a plate, still warm as you had it plastic wrapped, and he resist the urge to groan. 

He thanks you for the plate, but informs you that his date has already eaten. He winces when your face slips into an expression of disappointment. “Sorry, y/n, but thank you for the food.” He apologizes to you, but appreciates what you did. (Later when the young woman went home you kept sending him knowing looks and teasing him about how cute they looked together)

(It’s clear you’ve already planned their wedding, cooked a full dinner for the two of them and you give him one of those sly looks when you leave them alone.)

Yan roommate who, despite your nosey behavior, actually likes having you around (because you make him feel cared for).

Yan roommate who begins to view you as a parental figure, a guidance of sorts. (You’re so much better than his parents and you actually care about him!)

Yan roommate who gets drunk one night and then starts talking to you, being more vulnerable than usual.

“Y/n, i love you sooo much, you’re sooo nice to me!” He slurs, clearly meaning platonic love, his words muffled by your stomach. (As he latched his arms around you when he entered the house) 

“Yoooouu would make such an amaaaazing parent!” He giggles, snuggling close to you and refusing to let you go. You chuckle and pat his head, his behavior is so amusing. “Well, I am a parent, Lucas.”

Yan roommate who is absolutely flabbergasted to learn all this, you don’t look like a parent. Then you tell him that you adopted some kids when you were younger. 

“Whaaat?! You’re a parent?!” He exclaims, clearly surprised by such a thought. “But you don’t look like one!” It all makes sense now, your caring behavior and your tendency to worry is clearly because you view him as a child, your child, he doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Yan roommate who gets mixed feelings when he hears this, one the up side at least he can have the parent he always wanted, but he’s also an adult and feels a bit insulted that you treat him like a child. But then he thinks some more and decides he wouldn’t mind being your kid. (Take that how you will)

Yan roommate who cringes when be remembers how yesterday went and he swears he’ll never drink again. 

However his opinion on being your child still hasn’t change, but he has feeling that it might make things awkward if he said that.

Yan roommate who’s becomes reluctant to invite other people over to your shared apartment, because then he’ll have to share you with them and he doesn’t want to do that. He eventually stops bringing his dates over and stops mentioning you to his friends.  (He’s touched when you express your worries that he might be mad at you, now he knows you care about him.)

Yan roommate who explains that he doesn’t want anyone to steal your attention, he’s somewhat offended when you laugh at him, but he’s calmed down when you reassure him that that’ll never happen. (So he, reluctantly, begins to invite his friends and dates over. (However, anytime they’re over he’s increasingly clingy and defensive over you, which prevents any visitors to get to know you. Whilst, also preventing them from coming over again)

Yan roommate who pouts when you tell him not to scare off his friends or dates, he pouts even more when you encourage him to  get a girlfriend (or a boyfriend, whichever). Then you tell him to get out of the house more and that he doesn’t need to hover around you, which just upsets him and then he argues that he doesn’t need anyone else when he has you. 

Which then causes you to chastise him, which upsets him (everything you do upsets him) and then he storms off to his room like a moody teenager (mainly because he doesn’t want to argue with you and partly because he feels a strange satisfaction knowing that you care so much about him)

Yan roommate who can’t help but smile when you apologize, saying that you shouldn’t have pushed him and that he should socialize on his own terms.

Yan roommate who’s absolutely ecstatic when you gift him a present to make up for your mistakes. He immediately forgives you, but only under the condition that you don’t make him socialize (unless he wants to).

Yan roommate who panics whenever you leave the apartment, what if someone takes you from him? (He doesn’t want to lose another parent!) 

Yan roommate who throws a fit when you get back, shouting all sorts of nonsense about how you’re trying to abandon him and how you don’t love him anymore. (Meanwhile, you’re completely confused, because all you did was go buy groceries)

Yan roommate who makes you promise to stay with him and makes you swear not to leave him behind. 

(Apologies that this isn’t the best and might be somewhat incoherent, but at least I posted today! I’m open to criticism and I hope you enjoy this.)

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yan roommate x reader #enjoy this short fanfic! #Not the worst #but not the best #Eighth Official Post #Lucas my oc

[animeomegas]

I wanted to ask if you can do a more in-depth, for Shikamaru in his obsession. Like, A more in-depth look at everyone’s reaction when they found out and a more in-depth look at how they treat each other. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I am obsessed with Shikamaru and his obsession

Hehe, I think lots of people love Shikamaru and his obsession~ I decided to write about what happens just after they met for the first time, hope you enjoy~

Omega!Shikamaru x Alpha!Reader

Summary: Meeting his obsession at only age 5, Shikamaru is lucky enough to have his entire lifetime with his obsession at his side. Shikaku doesn't feel quite so lucky.

Word count: 1.25k

Warnings: None.

Shikaku didn’t know whether to be proud, irritated or resigned at the situation that had been suddenly dumped in his lap. The burn of your parents’ suspicious eyebrow raises had him leaning towards the latter two emotions, but the happy purrs his son was letting at his feet, massaging his baby Obsessions hands in his own, tipped the scale back towards proud.

He still couldn’t believe that his son, barely five years old, had already found his obsession. He had been dreading the day this happened, remembering the way his own father had had to reign him in when he fell for Yoshino, and anticipating an older Shikamaru giving him some good old-fashioned karma. But it happening this soon wasn’t something he had predicted, nor something he was ready for. Even in his worst-case imaginings, he had thought about a hormonal fifteen-year-old Shikamaru, never a five-year-old that had only just started learning how to control his emotions.

Shikaku sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. The whole situation was troublesome.

“I understand that this is shocking, it is a surprise to us as well, Naras rarely find their obsessions this young,” his wife explained to your parents.  He was so glad she was here to help him handle this. “But it isn’t something that can be taken back, nor something that can be stopped, so our best course of action is to figure out how we’re going to move forward.”

“This isn’t our first-time hearing about the Nara obsession instinct,” your mother said, seemingly the more relaxed one of your two parents, if the way your father was perched on the edge of the sofa like a tightly coiled spring was anything to go by. “But we had planned on only allowing sleepovers once they turned eight, so hearing about the expectation of sleepovers so suddenly isn’t easy to digest. I don’t understand why playdates can’t suffice.”

Shikaku tuned out Yoshino’s response, knowing that she would handle everything while ruffling as few feathers as possible. Well, provided your parents remained civil and open-minded. If they started demanding things that would hurt Shikamaru, Shikaku would have to pull her back before she decided violence was the best way to solve the problem. But seeing as the coast was clear for the moment, he turned his gaze towards his only son.

Shikamaru still had a tight grip on your hand, but his full attention was on your face now. He was leaning in just a little too close as you spoke, but you didn’t seem to mind. At least the silver lining was that Shikamaru had picked a relaxed baby alpha to obsess over.

“Your hair is very pretty,” you said quietly, a little smile on your face. “I like it.”

Furious purrs erupted from Shikamaru, his little face flushing in pride. Shikaku watched with amusement as Shikamaru immediately used his free hand to try and pull his hair out of his ponytail. His tiny fingers fumbled for a moment, but he eventually got it loose and yanked it out, pulling a few strands out along with it without so much as a flinch.

Shikaku remembered that feeling all too well, the way the desire to please Yoshino, make her happy with him, overshadowed everything else, even pain. When he first chose her, he would have been able to walk over a field of glass without flinching if he thought it would make her smile.

“You can touch it if you want,” Shikamaru said, practically vibrating with excitement as he leant his head forward, his now loose hair falling forwards towards you. “I don’t mind.”

“Wow, so soft!” you exclaimed, running your fingers through his hair. “Do you wash it with fairy dust?”

“No, just shampoo, but I also use conditioner,” Shikamaru announced proudly, pushing his head into your hand like a cat.

Shikaku smothered a snort. He imagined that Shikamaru would no longer roll his eyes and try to get out of using conditioner at bath time, something he was sure would delight his wife.

“We just can’t agree to that many nights with them away from home, away from us, they’re our child,” your mother said, just as Shikaku turned one ear back to the main conversation. “We might be able to divide the four nights in half though. We could have Shikamaru stay with us for two nights, but we’d need support navigating their relationship because we don’t know what’s normal or-“

Confident that things were going well enough that he wouldn’t have to restrain his wife, Shikaku turned back to his son and the baby alpha sitting on the floor beside him.

“Can I plait your hair, please?” you asked his son, still idly petting him.

Only yesterday, the same question had come from Ino, although the tone had been a little more demanding, and his son had rolled his eyes, refused, called Ino troublesome and gone to hide upstairs to take a nap.

His response now was like night and day. Shikaku watched his son’s face light up, his head bobbing up and down instantly.

“Yes, yes, whenever you want,” he said, falling over himself to turn around and present you with the back of his head. He scooted backwards until he was almost on your lap and then folded his hands together on his lap, waiting with barely contained excitable energy.

It was so strange seeing his son like this. He was used to his lazy petulance when face with chores, the competitive gleam in his eyes when they played shogi, his thinking face when he was presented a new puzzle or mystery, but this tidal wave of genuine, open affection and eagerness for companionship was something Shikaku had never seen.

“Thanks! You’re the best, Shika!” you said, separating his hair into three parts.

His son looked ready to ascend to a different plane of being.

This whole thing was a mess, Shikaku though, rubbing at his eyes. He wasn’t looking forward to the hundreds of tantrums he’d have to diffuse, the weird impulses he’d have to redirect or having to host another five-year-old in his house all the time. However, the pure happiness radiating off his son was more than worth all the bad. He was glad that Shikamaru would have his obsession with him for his entire life, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but hopefully Shikamaru would be used enough to his obsession and coping mechanisms that the hormonal nightmare of teenagerhood wouldn’t be so bad.

Shikaku gave the two children one more glance, vaguely amused to see Shikamaru silently mouthing ‘my alpha’ over and over again as you focused on plaiting his hair, before properly turning back to the conversation he was supposed to be a part of.

Everything would work out; he would make it so.

…

BONUS:

“Well, we should probably head off now,” your father said, standing up, holding the newly drawn up custody arrangement. “We’re having dinner with my parents tonight. Darling, time to leave, go and get your shoes on, please.”

“WHAT?! NO!”

“Here we go,” Shikaku sighed, trying to intercept Shikamaru before he got a hold on the baby alpha. Too late.

“Shikamaru, let go, they have to go home,” he said, kneeling down on the floor with them both.

“No!” his son whined, tears gathering on his water line. “They’re my alpha! Mine!”

“Shikamaru, that wasn’t a suggestion. Let them go.”

Shikamaru only growled at him, so Shikaku just started pulling him off you by the scruff.

“Shikamaru, stop struggling, stop- Ow! You little- He just bit me!”

#shikamaru x reader #shikamaru #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha!reader #headcanons #hcs #reader insert #alpha reader #omega!shikamaru #shikaku #nara obsessions

[c0ld0utside]

hey don’t push yourself to post a work every day, you’ll get brunt out. Go at your own pace, we’ll wait :)

also, have you thought of a human father with a monster child? Like he just grabbed a monster off the street lmao

OHOHO I LOVE THIS IDEA- And you're too kind tysm ;-;

Warnings: Child abandonment (Circle of life scenario), Reader unknowingly eats weed raw, Reader gets chased, Reader accidentally knocks themself out, Kidnapping, Reader gets tied up, Reader just has a lot of oopsie-daisies in general, Obsessive, Possessive, Delusional and Ignorant behavior

“***” means POV swap! Gonna try these out in this story. 

Growing up, you never thought about the day you had to “leave the nest.” Sure, it was a thing that your species did, but you never thought about it too much. …Until you hit a certain age. 

You still remember it all. The rain was pouring down hard and making you shiver. You called out to your parent, whining about wanting to return home, but they pressed forward and expected you to follow. So you did. You walked for hours, feet getting covered in mud and feeling icky. The two of you reached some black river with white dots in the middle, going in a perfectly straight line. 

Your parent turned to you, said that you were old enough to take care of yourself, that you weren’t allowed to come back, and that they wished you well. They left you there. You tried to follow them, tried to track their scent, tried begging and pleading and calling, but you never found them. Somehow, you managed to find the black river again, and you followed it. 

You followed it for a long time, only stopping during the day so you wouldn’t be seen. At night you stuck to the shadows, trying not to get scared when one of the husks roared past you, bright yellow eyes lighting up the darkness for a few moments. The smell it left behind was always awful. You lost count of the days, and at one point you thought you came across a forest fire, only to find that it was the sunlight reflecting on several somethings in tall structures.

You know now that the “black river” is called a road, and that the weird loud husks humans travel in are called “cars.” You’ve grown used to the smells and the loud noises. You’ve also learned that living in human environments got you free food since the morons just threw the stuff out. Like, come on, why would you dump an edible “burger” over some pickles? Just take ‘em out! 

Hiding your appearance, on the other hand, was harder. Your horns were coming in and from what you’ve seen, humans don’t have those, or naturally brightly colored irises and star-like pupils. …Or tails. Or pointed ears. Just your luck, though! Some guy forgot to lock the backdoor into the mall, and the shops you “borrowed” from were out of the cameras’ view. 

Finding a home was hard, too. It took a lot of trial and error, but you eventually found a good spot in an abandoned building after scaring a few squatters. They even left their blankets and strange leaves behind. You found out the hard way that those leaves are not good for you, especially after coughing them back up out the window. But hey, it’s all trial and error. Just like your parent said it would be. 

You’re comfortable, living in the abandoned home with ratty blankets and a mattress. Sneaking around the city after dark to snack on the unwanted leftovers thrown in trash cans. “Borrowing” shiny things off of people while they weren’t looking. Like that one guy’s watch, or that girl’s bracelet. Or some kid’s fidget ring. You even have a few things called “wallets.” Humans make interesting things, you’ve come to find. 

Like money.

Money, you’ve come to find, makes it so you don’t have to dig wasted food out of the garbage. You’ve managed to get some new clothes as well, which was a relief because your horns are very noticeable now without a beanie, and they ripped a hole in your old one. You had a hard time throwing it away, but the new one you have is the best thing you’ve ever gotten. You even bought a few things called “pins” to decorate it with.

The issue with money, however, is that it runs out quick, and getting more is harder than getting food. Which brings you back to your collection of empty wallets. You don’t want to go back to digging food out of garbage cans, trying to find scraps that were clean enough to eat. Your blankets are worn to shit, too. So, eating the last of your food and slipping your beloved beanie on, you head out of your abandoned home and into the city. 

***

A man in his late twenties enters the shop, and he cheerfully says “Hello” back to the greeter. “What you looking for, Tim?” The greeter asks, recognizing the regular. “Pins,” He replies simply. “I’m getting bored of the ones I have.” 

The greeter nods slightly. “Well, we got some new ones recently. Maybe you’ll like one of those.” She offers. The two exchange friendly smiles and Tim heads over to the pin basket, giving it a once over before starting to dig through it. He plucks out a Mothman one. A bit standard, he knows, but it’s adorable and Tim likes it so that’s that. 

Tim plucks out a few more monster pins and a few goofy animal ones, like a spider pin with the words “I cry from every eye” printed on it and a duck with a knife. Satisfied with his haul that only costs around fifteen bucks, Tim looks up and spots the best thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. It’s just a keychain with a ghost plush, but it’s probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life and he needs it. It even has a little smile on its face. A smile. It’s so precious and tiny and he just wants to hold it in his palms and dub it “Bartholomew the First.” 

So he feels less alone. 

Tim frowns at the sudden thought. Yeah, he’s a loner. Yes, he has friends, but they’re more work buddies and classmates than anything. He’d like to get a pet, something funky like a ferret or a rat or a lizard. But no, his landlord says no pets, so no pets for Tim. He’s always been sympathetic to others, having a lot of love to give but no one close to share it with. People from the past always found him odd because of it, but never told him why. Never told him what to do instead. 

He knows he’s not alone. Most people want someone to care about them, and most people want someone to care for. Because no one really wants to be alone. Especially not him.  So why does everyone treat him funny? How can he make it better? The kids don't think he's weird. They love it when he babysits. Please just- 

Tim’s snapped out of his thoughts when he feels something slip out of his back pocket. A teen wearing a beanie with a rabid possum and “peace was never an option” duck pin on it quickly leaves the store, brushing past him. It takes him a few seconds, but he puts two and two together and rushes over to the greeter. 

“Kathy hold onto these please some brat just took my money,” Tim says in a rush, shoving the items into her hands before booking it out of the shop. Kathy stands there, a bit stunned and processing what just happened. With a sigh, she heads over to the register and buys the pins and keychain. 

“Don’t you already have that one?” One of her coworkers asks, squinting at the spider pin. 

“I’m buying it for Tim. Some kid just took his wallet.” Kathy explains, blushing slightly at the teasing glance her coworker gives her. 

***

This guy is stubborn. So stubborn, it’s scary. Scarier than that one wolf that would not stop chasing you after you got too close to its pups. It was an accident and you wish your parent was here to charge through the street and intercept the damn guy who’s still chasing you. Like they did with the wolf. 

You know your parent had some love for you because they listened to your screams and begs and let the poor thing go. They also immediately scolded you for the whole thing afterward. Reckless, stupid little joey, poking around where they shouldn’t be. Just go back home and stay there. Food will come, I’ll bring some back. 

Running away from the threat is harder, too. Especially when you have to shove and weave past hordes of people who are either really slow or just aren’t paying attention. It feels suffocating. Claustrophobic. You can’t get out and you can’t take a moment to breathe. You can’t give this up though, you need it. 

I wish you were still here. I wish things were different. I wish I could’ve stayed. 

Without a second thought, you round the corner and scramble up the old fire escape, throwing yourself through the open dirtied window and tumbling into your blankets. Safe, safe, safe, your mind chants. You’re safe. You lost him. You got your money, so you won’t need to get your hands dirty.  You pull your beanie off of your head. It was starting to feel uncomfortable on your head and make your horns ache. 

There’s a clang outside, and a few muffled curses. Wait. What. What? You immediately stand up, pocketing the “borrowed” wallet. A familiar scent wafts into your nose- sweat and palm leaves. Funny for a guy who’s a regular at the most “teenage angst” store you’ve ever been in. The man from before hops through the window and dusts himself off. His gaze screams murder as he looks up at you.

…Only to fall the moment he spots your odd eyes and horns that are starting to curl. 

Okay. Okay. Stay calm. The dude managed to track you home. He’s a human- he’s weaker. He has no defense. Do what your parent taught you. 

Like a stag, you take a defensive stance and show off your horns. Don’t wanna get hit with these. They’ll hurt really bad. Go away, please. Wait- please? No! Go away now! 

You expect the guy to get the memo and leave. 

Instead, he coos at you.

***

Tim was wrong. The creature was the most cutest, precious thing he’s ever seen.  “Awwwww, look’t you!” He coos, relaxing and taking a friendly stance. “Wait hold on- no, this could be a cosplay. This is a cosplay, isn’t-” 

He yelps as the creature charges, narrowly moving out of the way. Its horns slam into the wall and when it pulls away, there’s a noticeable dent and cracks in it. The beast grunts, teeth flashing in a snarl. Fangs with some flat teeth. Its tail slips out of its hiding place and lashes angrily. 

Tim kneels, holding his hand out and trying to How To Train Your Dragon his way out of this. “Hey buddy, it’s alright. I just need my wallet back. Can I have it, please?” He asks sweetly, making a small motion with his hand. "We can talk about this. I can help."

Tim frowns when it hisses at him, an idea blooming in his head. When the monster charges again, he moves to the side and wraps his arms around them. “Easy, easy, aw…it’s alright. Shhhh…” 

“LET ME GO!” The creature screams, making him pause. It can speak? It sounds young, too. Tim glances around the room, taking in the empty bags of chips and other generally bad stuff that kids eat without a second thought. He notices the ratty blankets and worn, moldy mattress on a broken bedframe.

“...How old are you?” Tim asks, tone full of pity. He winces when he feels claws dig and scratch at his arms, but doesn’t let go. “Ow- hey, it’s okay, I can help you. Let me help you.” The creature doesn’t give up, continuing to struggle. He feels his grip slipping, and he has to take several steps back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa- hey, chill out-!” 

The creature breaks free and slams into a wall. 

***

When you wake up you know you’re not in your home. It doesn’t smell rancid and there are soft, silky textures brushing against you. Your head in resting on something soft and fluffy. The smell of palm trees is everywhere, and the world seems brighter. The noise is still there, though.

Outside, a car’s horn goes off repeatedly, resulting in you shifting around and trying to bury your head in the soft object. 

…Your hands are bound. So are your legs. The softness rubs against you. It’s a new sensation, one you aren’t used to. The smell gets stronger and you start to panic. So, like any scared joey, you start to call out for your parent. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You hear the man call. You hear him head over and enter the room, immediately joining your side. He starts to rub your back gently, shushing you. Stop it- stop it- you try to protest but he interrupts you. “I know, I know. It’s all new and confusing. But it’s okay! I’ll take care of you now. Don’t worry, I know you’re not a pet. You’re…uh…well, I don’t know, but you’re a person.” 

“Oh, don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m helping. I had to tie you up ‘cause I didn’t want you to hurt yourself again! It’ll be okay, I promise. No more of that nasty stuff for you.”

“I know you’re scared, but look at it this way! You’re not alone anymore! And now I’m not alone either. I wanna guess you’re…what? Seventeen? Y’know, most humans think you’re an adult when you hit eighteen, but I think twenty-one is more reasonable. No “teen” in “twenty-one,” is there?”

-

I was actually thinking of this while writing the werewolf story! And I gave “Dad” a name this time. Speaking of which, I feel like giving the other guys names. Is there a way to vote on it or something? I want to hear your guys’s ideas

I will definitely add onto this as well.

You're looking spectacular today! Drink water! Eat something that isn't chips! SLEEP!

#yandere #platonic #platonic yandere #yandere imagines #platonic yandere imagine #monster reader #yandere dad #yandad #yandere platonic #yan imagine #dad yandere

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. IV

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,174

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jungkook snaps, lots of family drama, mommy issues, oc being accommodating, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues but trying to be good hubby, jk gives oc more hope!

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: this week's flashback hint–nothing like a little dilf rivalry! Also, this chapter gives more of a reason why jk is adverse to parenthood 😶 My closing notes offer some explanations. Let's go! 💞

<< ch. III ༓ ch. V >> | series masterlist

For the first 22 years of your life, you had zero partners.

Most people labeled you as being jaded, stuck up, or having too high of standards for it. But fuck it. Why couldn’t anyone accept that you weren’t about to settle down with the first interested guy just 'cause of peer pressure?

Of course, you'd likely end up with someone eventually. You have gone out on a couple of dates before. Yet they were never that promising. The men, or excuse you, boys roughly your age did nothing to woo you. They just wanted a late-night fuck at 1 a.m. or a nice, cute girl to take home to their mom.

Not that you gave a hell what others were into or anything, but you had other agendas. Getting married and birthing children before kick-starting your adult life was not in your playbook. Neither was jumping into bed with random guys every week.

So you haven't had much luck in the romance department. Good riddance to it!

What you were waiting for was a gentleman. Someone that was responsible, mature, and experienced. Bonus points if they were into the arts. But it was rare to find a suitor of such quality–who wasn't ridiculously off-limits that is. Obviously, some other strong-willed man or woman sunk their claws in before you got the chance. Drats.

4 years ago

“I can’t believe you,” your best friend giggles. “You’re going to that fancy new art exhibit downtown just to run into Dr. Kim! You’re so shameless __.”

You roll your eyes and stick your plate in the dishwasher. You’re best friend Na-Rae has been one of your closest friends since your second year of undergrad. Now into your third year of friendship, you consider her as close as a sister.

Unlike you, Na-Rae is utterly fascinated with all things STEM-related. She’s currently in med school aiming to become a surgeon, which is one of the many reasons why you and her are currently roommates.

“I’m telling you one more time, I’m not going for him. I actually want to see the paintings which should come as no surprise to you. Dr. Kim just happens to be going too.”

Na-Rae leans against the kitchen island, tongue in cheek. “If that’s what you wanna tell yourself, babe. But how, may I ask, did you know he’d be there? Are you stalking him online now?”

“Of course not. I’m not a creep Na-Rae.” You throw her a dirty look. Honestly, she really thinks you’re some obsessed fangirl. Like yes, Dr. Kim is really hot for an older guy, and the fact that he’s basically the second dean of the art department? He may or may not visit you in your dreams. Especially after studying for Dr. Jeon’s fifteen million econ exams.

Now there’s a guy who definitely knows how to stick it to you.

“Besides,” you continue. “Dr. Kim doesn’t have social media.” You don’t notice how contradictory that statement sounds until your best friend lets out a sinister cackle.

“Looked him up did you?” She hits your arm, wiggling her eyebrows tauntingly. “I knew it! I knew you were stalking him!”

“I–I am not! Stop that!” You ignore her looks, seeing it best to avoid eye contact altogether.

"Iovmererdhimalkingintheallway."

"C'mon, you know I can't understand that. You did what?"

"I over…heardhimalkingintheallway," you repeat, skirting most of the sentence again.

"For the love of might __! Why are you being so–"

"I overheard him talking in the hallway!" Once you blurt the words out you scurry out of the kitchen. "Gotta get my laundry, bye!"

"Uh-__!" Na-Rae races to catch up to you. "Explain to me how that's not being stalkerish!"

You grab your laundry basket and set it next to the dryer. "It wasn't intentional alright? I happened to be passing by at the right moment." You pop the door open, stuffing your clothes in the basket. Na-Rae casually watches you from the doorway.

"Right," she says. "Just happened to overhear Dr. Kim's whereabouts on a Friday night and just happen to be going to the same place. But definitely not planned because the dress you're currently trying to hide from me isn't meant for him to coincidentally see. Oops, my bad."

You release said dress from your hand aggressively. "Dr. Kim is at least a decade older than me and he's a high-level faculty member of the university. I'm not seriously trying to present myself to him in any romantic sense. That would be so inappropriate! And as far as the dress goes, it's the grand opening tonight. Everyone's wearing these kinds of things. So no, you're wrong."

"Very well, if the lady persists," Na-Rae shrugs, checking her phone. "Shoot, I gotta get to work in fifteen but I expect a full report later!" You watch as she hustles to her room.

.

The exhibit's doors open at 7 pm sharp. The line to the entrance runs about three blocks which is far longer than you were expecting. Most people came in groups or pairs, making you wish Na-Rae didn't have to work tonight.

But you're right about this being a formal affair. Everyone is dressed to kill. Some lean more towards black tie while others choose to show off their highly expressive, avant-garde nature.

You look down at yourself, suddenly feeling quite underdressed. You're wearing a simple black dress that's cinched at the waist. If one were to look close enough they'd see hints of gold throughout but no one would get that close.

The artwork itself is stunning. Varying from abstraction to impressionism, you get a sense of pleasure in taking in others’ inspiration. Many of these works are from locals in the area which is one of the main reasons for the number of interested guests. You wonder if anyone here knows the artists directly.

You make your way to the next set of pieces, studying the first in line. You immediately recognize the particular style as post-impressionism. It's clear the artist has great influence by Van Gogh evident from the similar large yet controlled strokes.

As you continue observing the work you feel a second body, looming close beside you. Naturally, you shift your eyes over to see the source. His hair brushes past his face as he leans closer to the painting.

After about three seconds you quickly dart your eyes away, careful not to stare. The man appears to be equally as focused on the work in front of him, as you were. It'd be a bit embarrassing if he noticed your gaze and snapped at you for it.

The man next to you slowly straightens his bent-over posture. He moves to the other side of you, viewing the next painting on your right. You barely catch the slight glance he gives you in the process, now able to see his full face.

It's not Dr. Kim–it's Dr. Jeon.

This isn't weird, you try convincing yourself. It's perfectly normal for you to see your professor in public. Besides, who knows if he actually recognized you yet. No need to make this awkward if you simply pretend not to notice him.

You think about whether to sneakily slip away or continue to feign ignorance until…

"Are we going to keep side-eyeing each other or can I say hi?" Dr. Jeon lightly smiles at you with playful eyes. His glasses are different today–thinner design. And oh, is that a...lip ring? Is that new or has he always had it? You don't remember seeing it before. "If you keep staring at my lips like that I might get shy."

"Ahha, Dr. Jeon!" You fight the stirring of your nerves. "Hi! Sorry, I didn't mean to stare or anything. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Please, __. Outside of class, Jungkook is fine. Though I understand if that's a little out of place for you."

A little?! You've been calling Dr. Jeon, well, Dr. Jeon for the past two weeks. It's unlikely that will change. "If it's alright with you," you start, hands restless. "I'd like to stick with the usual."

Jungkook nods, giving you a brief once-over before replying. "Sure, no problem. I'm hoping you'll warm up to the idea though. Dr. Jeon makes me feel old." He lets out a throaty chuckle. "I'd ask what brings you to this art exhibit but I think I have the answer, given the amount of sketches I see you doing while I'm lecturing."

Oh god. Your professor calling you out for both gawking at his lips and doodling in class under the span of five minutes? You've never wanted to disappear more. The sketches you do aren't meant to look like a distraction and honestly, you didn't mean to gawk at the tiny ring, it was just there!

"Sorry," he continues. "That wasn't intended to be passive-aggressive. I really don't mind as long as they don't hinder your learning. Dr. Kim does the same thing whenever I'm talking to him too. I've summed it up to an itch all you artists have. I've come here in support of him actually." He gestures to the collection of paintings next to you; the post-impressionism ones you were intent on studying earlier.

"Oh wow," you gasp stupidly, following his gesture. You didn't even clue in to read the artist's name.

Stigma by Kim Taehyung.

"I had no idea Dr. Kim had some of his work displayed here. I feel so foolish. I was viewing his pieces for I don't know how long just a few minutes ago."

You were sure Dr. Kim was attending the exhibit for the same reasons as you. But while it was partially right, you obviously missed the biggest point.

"Don't fret," a deep, honey-coated voice comes from nowhere. "Any admirer of my work is a friend of mine." He strolls up to your left, Jungkook still on your right. "I don't believe we've met yet. Dr. Kim Taehyung." He tosses a hand out for you to shake.

Oh no, no no no. You hope to death you won't start sweating. You've never been this close to Kim Taehyung before and he wants you to hold his hand! "Pleasure to meet you Dr. Kim. I'm __," you say, struggling not to burst inside.

Okay, so it's not exactly holding hands but it's close enough. His fingers are so long and elegant. You can't wipe the grin off your face.

You're squeezing it now, stop stop stop. You mentally slap yourself and retract your hand as naturally as you can. Thank fuck no one can read your mind.

"I'm sorry your name is __?" Dr. Kim freezes as if suddenly needing to remember something. When you think he's recalled whatever it is he needs, he flicks his head over to Jungkook with a twinkle in his eye. "__," he repeats aloud.

"Uhm, yes..." You're definitely missing something. You look between the two men, apparently both intent on keeping you in omnious silence. What's so facinating about your name?

Taehyung whips his head back to face you, flashing a blinding grin. "You're the little artist in Jungkook's class aren't you?"

That's what this is about? He looks far too proud of himself for connecting those dots.

"Yeah I take ECON 602 with Dr. Jeon." You make the mistake of looking at Jungkook mid-sentence. For some odd reason, his previous mirthful expression has changed to one of bitter distaste.

"She isn't little," Jungkook intrudes, nearly snapping at the older man. "Little is what you call a child and it's inappropriate for you to call her that."

What the hell....? How is Dr. Kim calling you little bothering your professor more than you?

"My apologies," Taehyung says. "But she's your student, right? The one drawing during your lectures? I think she drew you once. Exquisite may I add. You captured his pissed-off look so well." He gives you a pleased look but you're too sheepish to form a reply.

"Yes, I wasn't having the best day. Can I talk to you a moment Dr. Kim? We'll be right back __, just a second." Jungkook grabs the older's arm, yanking him out of your earshot.

"What the hell are you doing, Taehyung?" Jungkook spits. "You're making my student uncomfortable."

"Aha, so she is the artist. Look I admit that using the term little was a misstep but I think she's alright. I apologized didn't I?"

"Yeah sure, but she's not alright." He makes air quotes. "Since you've also made it seem like anything she does in my class, I spill to you! Don't you see how uneasy that would make someone feel? Especially me being her professor. She could be thinking I tell you weird things too! See what you've done?!"

"But Jungkook," Taehyung drawls, face scrunching. He's not sure what's gotten Jungkook so worked up. "You do in fact regurgitate everything to me. You've been talking about her for the last week just to one-up me that she's an artist. Now I get to have a face to the name. I'm kinda tickled about it but also, what weird things are you referring to?" Taehyung pauses, eyes going as big as a saucer. "Oh my god, bro. Are you–"

Jungkook grunts firmly, shutting the man up at once. "Absolutely not Tae. Whatever you were about to say, it couldn't be a bigger no. All I'm asking is for you to keep the private things private. I don't want you blubbering everything to her."

"Very well," Taehyung hums, stealing a glance at you behind Jungkook's shoulder. From where he stood, he had an easy view of you moving down the line of paintings. You stop in front of each one, curiously examining them the best you can. "However, she's quite intriguing. I can't make any promises that I'll hold myself back."

"You better be talking about her mutual interest in art. She's my student and we have an obligation through the university not to fraternize with any–"

"Yes yes, your student. I don't need a reminder of where my boundaries are, but perhaps you do....bringing up fraternizing and all." Taehyung moves past Jungkook, striding back over to you. "Whatever else can there be besides professional or academic affairs? Of course, we're keeping our witts about us Kookie."

Behind him, Jungkook huffs and follows his lead. Then wipe that stupid smirk off your face, he thinks.

Present

Dinner is rough.

Jungkook's parents showing up unannounced and uninvited throws you both in a very quick, downward spiral. How can two people have so much time on their hands? Retirement, that's how.

You try your hardest to keep the conversation light throughout dinner, but it's obvious the air has grown thick between your husband and his mother.

"Why didn't you come to the reunion last year?" your mother-in-law presses for the second time tonight. She clutches the napkin in her hand, anxious for his response.

Jungkook sits across the table. His posture stiffens at the question. "I'm sorry, I had a lot to do. The reunion is always so close to when I have to go back to the university that I just didn't have the time."

A loud, impatient sigh comes from back across the table. "You didn't have the time or didn't make it? Honesty Jungkook, you expect me to believe that?"

When Jungkook doesn't answer, you and your father-in-law exchange troublesome looks. "Honey," Mr. Jeon speaks up, placing a hand on her shaky one. "You know how full the school year is for Jungkook. Don't blame him. Maybe he can come this year if we reschedule for a more convenient time." He pleads with his son, hopeful eyes.

"Stop helping him." She looks at Mr. Jeon and then back to Jungkook. "I don't think I'm asking for a lot. I just want you there, you and __."

At that, you find yourself gripping your husband's arm from under the table. Jungkook shifts in his seat and stares dead straight into his mother's eyes. "Funny you say that," he seethes. You tug on his arm in desperation to calm him. "Seeing that you keep dropping by at random times throughout the year, I'd say you expect a great deal from us."

Mrs. Jeon immediately snatches her hand from your father-in-law's. "Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd come to the reunion. Or called, texted, or even emailed at this point. If it weren't for my efforts, I wouldn't hear from you at all."

"Please," Mr. Jeon pleads again, this time to both parties. "We're having dinner. Let's continue this later." He reaches for the bowl in the middle of the table but he's quickly ignored.

"You're right." Jungkook cuts. "Maybe I should come. Because it's one more way you can get what you want, isn't it? All those years of hard work so you can show me off to everyone."

"Don't you talk to me like that," Mrs. Jeon grits. "If I wanted to show you off it'll be when you give me a grandchild! I'm lucky to even have a daughter-in-law by now."

Chair legs scrape against the hardwood floor and your arm snakes out from Jungkook's arm. Your husband stands at the table, Mr. Jeon follows suit. "Okay, okay, let's just–"

"Dad," Jungkook interrupts. "Can you please take Mom home for the night?"

"Are you okay?" you pop the question once your in-laws leave for the night, a queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Mrs. Jeon looked completely bewildered, whereas Mr. Jeon looked deeply troubled; conflicted between wife and son. You have a feeling he has a better understanding of what happened than you do right now.

"I wish she hadn't come today," Jungkook plops on the bed. You sit beside him. "I'm sorry about what she said about you....I knew she was here for something."

You won't lie. When Mrs. Jeon mentioned being lucky to finally have a daughter-in-law, it stung. You detest being seen as an achievement. "I'm sure she didn't mean it like that since she said it out of impulse. It was a tense moment," you say. "As far as what she was getting at though, it was for you to go to the reunion."

"No." He shakes his head and then glances at you. "It's not about the reunion. She only wants me to go so she can show everyone how smart and successful her son has become–all her doing of course. It's been like that since high school. And she wants you to go for a similar reason."

"I knew your mom had a bit of a thing for status but I thought that mostly revolved around her profession. Also, when she was talking earlier about you not keeping in touch she seemed more hurt and sad than mad. I think she really just wants you there."

"If she seemed hurt it's because she didn't get her way," Jungkook says, nonchalant.

"Jungkook."

"I'm sorry but it's true" He adjusts his position, angling himself to face you. "Mom's used to calling the shots– at work, at home, even with our neighbors growing up. You've seen how dad is around her. Yeah, he pushes back a little but at the end of the day, he does what's asked of him."

Frightened to ask the next question, you swallow hard. "What aren't you telling me Jungkook?"

He gently takes your hand from your lap, rubbing small circles on the knuckles. "Growing up, she was hardly around or involved in my brother and I's life. Most weeks, she and Dad would be at work, and we'd be with a babysitter or nanny. Dad did what he could to take care of us but Mom? All she would do is prune us to be just like her...smart, successful, and a dash more to make up for all the achievements she couldn't make."

"Jungkook...I don't know what to say," you murmur, trying to take everything in. "But your PhD–"

"My decision but her influence. Though she wasn't pleased when I said I'd be relocating ten hours away."

You remember him telling you this part before. His mother had a hard time coping with his reluctance to stay nearby. Maybe she did want him to follow in her footsteps. "Your brother didn't have as much pressure on him did he?"

"He did, but he still bends to her will. Except for the grandchildren part." Jungkook grimaces, averting eye contact. "I guess we have that in common."

"Hey," you urge him to lift his head. "Please don't feel bad about telling me any of this. If your picture of parents has largely been their absence and desire for self-fulfillment, then I understand your grounds for not wanting children. And as far as tonight with your mom, I'm so sorry. I feel like it's partially my fault for agreeing to host them for two days."

A pair of soft eyes rest on you in the dim room. The sun was near set now and all the light previously shining into the room had come from the window. If this wasn't a serious moment you might take a candid shot of your husband.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me __," Jungkook coos. "Don't ever think your kindness is a fault." He pauses then continues. "I still want both my parents in my life but I need to draw boundaries or I will completely snap and that's not something I want to happen. Especially since we have a possible baby to make one day."

"Hu–huh?" It's the repetition of the last sentence that makes you utterly dumbfounded.

Baby? Baby with Jungkook. One day?

Your husband draws his hand up to barely caress your cheek. "Why does that always seem to stop your heart?"

You catch his wrist mid-movement and throw yourself into him. Your arms link around his neck, chest flat against his. "It doesn't stop my heart," you say, playing with his hair. "It makes it beat faster."

"Wow." Your husband hugs you closer. "So cheesy." He leans back after, pressing a soft kiss to yours.

The two of you continue making out like teenagers again; Jungkook tumbling on his back.

"Kook." You lay on top of him, straddling his sides. "Have you ever thought about seriously talking to your mom about you know, everything you told me?"

Jungkook hums, before answering. "Somewhat but, I'm not sure how that'll go."

"It might be worth it instead of having little pieces slip out when you get into conflict...like tonight for instance."

"I suppose it's not a far-fetched idea. I'll consider it but it might take some more time. For now, I think I'll start by calling her tomorrow. I'm still mad but I don't wanna leave things the way they are now. Plus, I'm sure they don't have plans to go back home early. I'd hate for them to stay in the hotel the rest of these two days."

"Sounds like a plan," you say, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

"Mom." Jungkook holds the phone to his ear. "What are you and Dad doing today?"

"Oh, I–," his mom stutters from the other end. "We're not up to too much. I think your dad wants to swing by some bookstore around town. Uh, what about you?"

"__ at work and I'm home by myself. Are you hungry? I thought maybe we could go out for brunch."

Jungkook hears his mom's tone lift. "Are you sure? I mean that would be lovely but if there are things you need to do then we don't want to...impose."

Mrs. Jeon's sudden willingness to check in is unexpected. Jungkook still senses traces of guilt but at least she's making somewhat of an effort.

"It's my treat," he assures, a little shaky. "I'm sorry about yesterday, mom. Maybe we can talk about it more in person."

"I think that would be good," she agrees simply. "Where and what time do you want to meet up?"

"Drive over here in twenty minutes. We can pile in my car and head over."

Once finally agreed, Jungkook ends the call. He opens his messages and shoots you a text.

Jungkook: Well I did it  😬 [sent at 10:42 a.m]

__: Proud of you ❤️ if anything happens, call me. [sent at 10:44 a.m]

Jungkook: I will. Also, sorry to bring it up but I gotta give Yoongi hyung an answer by tomorrow. Are we babysitting his twins Saturday? [sent at 10:47 a.m]

__: Ahm, it'll likely be the evening, right? [sent at 10:48 a.m]

Jungkook: Probably [sent at 10:49 a.m]

__: I guess, sure. We're going to need to put some stuff away though 😅 And get something fun for them to do! [sent by 10:51 a.m]

Jungkook: Noted but I'm sure they'll bring lots to do. Yoongi hyung is a big sofie for his girls. He buys them everything–literally 🫠 [sent at 10:52 a.m]

__: True. I have to get back to work now but love you xoxo [sent at 10:53 a.m]

A/N: Surprise! jk has mommy issues and they've has been triggered. Was hoping how he talked, thought, & acted towards her in the last chapter gave hints. On the brighter side, jungkook is another step closer to babyville! And next flashback will be something exciting! Lmk if you wanna be tagged or have thoughts in comments or asks! 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @lubtou

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

[melodygatesauthor]

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

Back to Main Masterlist

Back to Triple Frontier Masterlist

#santiago garcia #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santi x reader #santiago #garcia #santiago garcia x you #santi garcia x reader #santi garcia x you #santi garcia fanficiton #santi garcia fan fiction #santi garcia fanfic #santi garcia fan fic #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia fan fiction

[delicateflowerss]

Nightcall

People invite monsters into their houses more often than you think.

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, DUB-CON, dark!tyler, aged up character(s), blood, mentions of murder/violence, manipulation, jealousy, choking, dacryphilia

Word Count: 3.7k

His fingers fumble with his phone in the dark. Blood smearing on the screen when trying to find your name to click on. Unshed tears glisten in his eyes and shaky breaths leave his lips as he listens to the ringing tone.

You look out your bedroom window one more time, watching the rain fall from the sky before closing the curtains for the night. You head towards the bathroom, walking past your phone that sits on the dresser.

You don’t hear your phone buzz in the other room, the screen lighting up with Tyler’s name. You step into the hot shower, oblivious to the boy trying to get ahold of you.

He curses out loud when he hears the beginning of your voicemail. Hanging up, he immediately clicks on your name again.

When he gets the same result, he throws his phone down on the passenger seat.

Tyler doesn’t know why it feels like it’s life or death whether he talks to you right now. But he can’t shake the feeling that you’re with him again.

Maybe it’s stupid. Maybe it’s that obsessive, little corner of his mind plaguing him with the idea that someone is right where he should be.

He can’t get it out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. That day on perpetual repeat as he drives down the dark road.

“This would be less painful if you talk, Tyler,” she reminded him for the second time that session.

She kept a pearly white grin on her face, voice still cheery. But he noticed the annoyance that she fought so hard against, starting to seep through.

He couldn’t keep his eyes on the blonde sitting in front of him, instead they roam around her neatly decorated apartment. He’d never paid attention to how many candles she keeps lit. That must be a fire hazard, he thought. This whole place could go up in flames with a slight push to one of them.

“In our last session, you told me about a friend you reconnected with recently. Y/N, was it?” Dr. Kinbott inquired, watching Tyler for a reaction.

He shifted a little in his seat at the mention of your name. But he tried his hardest to keep a straight face, not even a twitch of a muscle. He didn’t need Dr. Kinbott to know what makes him squirm.

“How did you two meet again?”

He let out a sigh before being forced to recount his early memories. He supposed he didn’t mind since it had to do with you.

“We met in kindergarten. She just, came up to me and asked if I wanted to play house.” He kept his voice as steady as possible. “I know I would’ve rather played with the toy cars. But for some reason, I said yes. I don’t really remember why.”

He stopped paying attention to how Dr. Kinbott tilted her head like what he was saying was the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. Instead, a smile traced his lips as he felt himself be transported back into the memory.

“We played together every day after that. Going to each other’s birthday parties and kid stuff like that.”

He still remembered how you wanted him to sit next to you when you blew out your candles on your birthday cake, or how you always gave him your last Animal Cracker at snack time, just because he was still hungry.

“Then what happened?”

Her question made him falter, lips parting in confusion.

“What happened for you two to reconnect now? Reconnecting usually means you drifted apart in the first place.”

He slightly nodded, eyes moving to the floor. He thought for a moment before he continued.

“Puberty, I guess. We turned 12 and things just changed. It wasn’t cool to be friends with a girl.”

Dr. Kinbott continued to nod, humming in understanding.

“So, why now?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. She came into the Weathervane one day… and she was surprised to see me working there. Then we got to talking and… now we see each other all the time.”

He stopped himself from saying anything more about you.

Truthfully, he could’ve gone on for hours about you. How every time you looked at him, it felt like you were staring right into his soul, and all you did was smile, not turning away in fear or disgust.

He could’ve talked about how he longs to see that smile all the time, that simple expression on you making a bad day turn better.

He knew your drink order like the back of his hand. He thought it was funny how you only ever want a latte made by him now. Your excuse was no one else makes the foam like he does.

His favorite time of the day was when the sun went down. The Weathervane was finally empty of customers, and the two of you could just sit in your own little corner of the world, talking for hours. Everything else was a distant thought during those times. All he could do was focus on the warmth of your voice, telling him all of your greatest dreams and desires.

You told him you want to leave Jericho one day, hoping there’s something better out there for you, and all he could think was how much he wants to go with you.

“That’s great, Tyler. Having a friend, you can talk to is a really special thing.” Dr. Kinbott’s voice snatched him from his thoughts. She glanced at the clock.

“Looks like we’re out of time.”

Tyler kept his eyes on the ground, head swirling with memories of you that were unearthed in his session with Dr. Kinbott. He only looked up when he crossed the street, giving a polite smile to the car that stopped for him.

He was on his way to work, not much of a break between therapy and having to serve coffee to a wide array of customers.

But before he could get to the door of the Weathervane, he spotted you through the window. It was a nice surprise before he realized you were sitting across from someone, laughing at what they were saying.

His jaw tensed, brows pulled together as he watched you talk to a guy that you and Tyler went to school with.

He always thought Ben was an asshole, thinking he was so much better than everyone else. So much better than Tyler at least.

He was stumped at why you would want to be talking to Ben in the same booth that was supposed to be yours and Tyler’s.

His first instinct was to pretend that it was nothing when Ben brushed his hand against yours, and you let him, smiling.

But he felt something sink in his chest, a familiar feeling. A type of feeling he’s gotten when he watches the world around him, realizing he has no place in it. This time, it’s a little different, the feeling has evolved.

Now he has no choice, it’s screaming, telling him to do something before he goes insane.

You still haven’t checked your phone when you’re dressed in your pajamas, skin still dewy from your shower.

The doorbell ringing throughout the house startles you. You think for a second of who it could be, somewhat hoping the person gets impatient and leaves.

When it rings again, you peek through your bedroom curtains. When you see who it is, you practically run downstairs, opening the front door as fast as you can.

“Tyler, what are you doing?”

He stands on your doorstep in the pouring rain, arms hugging his sides, looking like a stray puppy needing shelter.

You grab his arm, dragging him into your house and out of the harsh weather. His clothes are soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, still trying to figure out why he came to your house in the first place.

He looks around, almost like he’s in a daze.

“Are your parents home?”

You stare at him with your brow furrowed until you slightly shake your head, realizing he asked you a question.

“No, they’re out of town for the weekend. I thought I told you that.”

He hears the worry in your voice, not trying hard to disguise it. He likes it, the fact you care enough about him to be concerned.

“So, you’re home by yourself?” There’s an edge to his voice, something that makes a chill go down your spine.

You nod slowly, your eyebrows slightly raised.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He just keeps his eyes on the floor.

You sigh, “You probably shouldn’t go back out there, at least until it stops raining.” His eyes finally meet yours. “I can try to find some other clothes for you while I put those in the dryer.”

His mouth opens, surprised at your offer.

“But leave your shoes by the door. My parents would kill me if you got mud everywhere.”

He looks down at his dirty shoes, bending down and frantically untying them.

You start to go up the stairs, and Tyler hesitates for a second before quickly following you.

“I’ll also get you a towel to dry your hair,” you say with an amused smile on your lips, looking back to take in his wet curls.

He follows you into your room, and he can’t help but take in every detail of you that is carved into it. All he can think is how it’s so you, from the few pictures hanging on the walls to the color you chose for the duvet on your bed.

“You can undress in here, and hopefully something of my dad’s will fit you.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You give him one last reassuring smile before closing the door.

It’s not lost on him how odd it is to be taking his clothes off in your bedroom. Maybe in a different situation, he would enjoy it more.

Soon enough, those agonizing thoughts come back, making him wonder how many other guys have been in this situation. Except you’d be there, also taking your clothes off.

He wonders if Ben has been in that situation, with that stupid, arrogant smirk on his face.

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts.

“Come in,” he calls out.

You open the door, finding Tyler standing in the middle of your room, only in his boxers.

A sight you thought you’d never see.

It’s hard for him to look you in the eyes, his hands trying to find something to do. But what makes him feel worse is your lack of embarrassment at seeing him like this.

You step closer to him, but before you can explain what you found, you drop what you’re holding on to the bed.

“Oh my God, Tyler.” That concern is back in your voice.

He follows your gaze, looking down, realizing that he’s bleeding. He usually gets wounded in some way when he transforms. He’s not entirely sure how it happens, probably while he’s on the hunt. He’s just glad that the rain washed away the blood that wasn’t his.

You rush to him, inspecting the scratches on his ribcage, right near his stomach.

“Does it hurt?”

The scratches don’t look too deep, but they’re still bright red.

“It’s not too bad.”

You look at him with disbelief. But you decide not to press on the matter anymore.

“Okay. Well, I’ll get the first aid kit and you just sit down.” You motion to the foot of your bed. “Oh and,” you say, almost forgetting. “Here’s a towel for your hair. I could only find you a shirt, but you probably shouldn’t put it on until I get you cleaned up.”

You pick up Tyler’s wet clothes off the floor before leaving.

He grabs the towel, ruffling his hair with it, trying to dry it. He enjoys how you take care of him, treating him like he’s a little boy that needs to be nursed back to health. How he’s the only person you seem to care about at all, putting all your attention on him.

You come back, sitting right next to him, sorting through the bandages in the little plastic box.

“How did this even happen? It looks like you were attacked by a wild animal.”

You begin to bandage him up the best you can, waiting for an answer.

“I was playing with Elvis, and he got a little too rough I guess.”

It’s not his best lie, but it will have to do for now.

You don’t say anything, and Tyler isn’t sure if your silence is to do with your disproval or if you’re too focused on his wound.

A few minutes pass, and you’re still working on covering the scratches up. It doesn’t go past you how intimate this is, the only sounds are yours and Tyler’s breathing and the soft tapping of the rain against the window. You drag your eyes up a little, taking in how toned he is, something he keeps well-hidden.

You’re so close to him that he can smell the soap on your skin, vanilla filling his nose. The feeling of your fingertips on his body makes him feel like he’s on fire. If all he had to do was hurt himself and show up on your doorstep in the pouring rain to get you to pay this kind of attention to him, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

“That should be good.” You lean back, admiring your handiwork.

His green gaze finds his now bandaged up wound, a smile lighting up his features.

“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know either.”

Your smile matches his as you bring a hand to his hair, letting your fingers run through his soft curls. His eyes fall shut with the comforting, almost loving movement.

He opens them to see you staring at him, like you’re admiring him. Content is written on your face.

He can only guess his face looks more or less the same, probably more like a lovesick idiot.

He doesn’t really think about it as he leans in closer to you, his eyes glued to your lips. He doesn’t notice how your expression morphs into something of confusion and panic.

A small gasp leaves your lips as his own crash into your cheek instead. You feel him freeze, realization hitting him coldly.

He finally moves away from you, keeping his head down. But even as he wishes to disappear from your sight, he can’t stop you from seeing the blood rushing into his cheeks.

You instantly feel bad when you see the embarrassment that clouds him. The last thing you would want is to upset Tyler. But him almost kissing you was a shock. You never thought for a second Tyler had a crush on you.

You sigh, closing your eyes for a second, trying to figure out the words to make all of this better.

“Tyler, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s just…” You trail off, not wanting to add salt to his wounds. You shift a little. “It’s just, I don’t see you like that.”

You try to judge his reaction, and by the way his jaw ticks, it’s not good.

“I’ve been really happy since we became friends again, and… I don’t want to lose that,” you soothe.

“Do you like him?” There’s a darkness to his voice, a bitterness you’ve never heard from him before.

You stare at him, not understanding.

“I saw you with him. At the Weathervane.” He finally turns to face you. “Are you fucking him or something?”

His face is practically in a snarl, and you’re ready to defend yourself against his unfair accusations.

But then you see the hurt in his eyes, the slightest glimmer of an unshed tear. You decide to take a deep breath, stopping yourself from saying something you’ll regret.

“I think you just need to calm down, Tyler.”

Unfortunately, your words have the opposite effect. Your lack of an answer makes his jaw tighten. His eyes seem to have this far away look in them.

He had hoped every thought that invaded his mind was wrong. But he realizes that the voice in the back of his head telling him he’s not good enough for you has only been right.

His gaze finally settles over you, an intensity taking over that wasn’t there before.

“Do you think he’s better than me?”

Your brow furrows. “What? No-.”

“Then why him?” He pauses before going into his next question. “What’s so bad about me that you won’t at least give me a chance?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, immediately feeling a pang of guilt. You don’t know why you can’t see Tyler in a romantic way. You’ve known him since you were kids. He always looks at you with those soft, kind eyes, and he listens to what you have to say. He’s also good looking… but for some reason, you just can’t picture yourself dating him, or fucking him.

But you could try.

He’s always had it tough, growing up without a mom. You could always sense a loneliness to him, something that made him… different from everyone else. All you know is you hate making him feel this way. You don’t want to be the reason for his next broken heart.

“Tyler-.”

He shuts you up with a kiss on your open mouth. Before you could explain how you two should go to a movie or something, his soft lips are pressed to yours, slowly licking into your mouth.

You bring a firm hand to his chest. Your fingers are cold compared to the warmth of his bare skin. You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.

His kisses feel feverish, like he can’t get enough of you, wanting to devour you whole. He pushes his body weight onto you, making you fall back on the bed.

The kisses don’t stop as he moves between your open legs. You’re finally able to move your mouth away from him.

“Wait, Tyler. I don’t know about this.” Your voice is full of cracks as he takes in the apprehension overcoming your face.

He had hoped you would pity him, making it easier for him to do what he wants with you. You’re his and he is yours. Ben doesn’t compare to him. You just don’t know it yet.

He tries to make the expression on his face gentler, softer, not wanting to scare you.

“I would never do anything to you that you wouldn’t want.” His thumb caresses circles on to your cheek. “You don’t have to worry or think too much. Just relax.” His deep voice sounds almost entrancing. “Don’t you trust me?”

You gaze up at him, considering his words. He takes your lack of response as one, his lips finding yours again.

You let his hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your skin. He finds one of your breasts through your thin pajama shirt, squeezing it and massaging your nipple. His other hand snakes down to your core, rubbing you through your underwear.

Even if he wanted to stop, he can’t. The thing inside him that craves to be satiated is screaming in hunger, and you’re absolutely delicious.

He replaces his hand with his mouth, sucking on your nipple through the fabric, wetting it with his tongue. He can feel your chest start to heave.

A whimper escapes your throat as he slips his fingers under the white cotton, brushing over your swollen bud. You feel his perfect teeth move to your neck, alternating between biting and licking, leaving kisses in his trail as an apology for hurting you.

Your hips buck involuntarily before he takes his hand away from you, wet with your arousal. You practically whine in protest before he reaches up to take your shirt off, your shorts and underwear being pushed down next.

The realization of where this is going hits you, along with the cold air. Watching him pull his boxers down, you could stop him now.

But do you really have a choice?

You feel his leaking tip brush against you, lining himself up before pushing himself inside you.

Ragged breaths leave you as you try to adjust to his size, the fullness being too much for you at first. Pain beginning to meld with the inklings of pleasure.

His pink lips part as he feels you wrapped around him, walls clenching around his throbbing cock. He starts to thrust into you, your hand grasping his bicep as he sinks in deeper.

You get used to his pace, moans falling from you as pleasure clouds your mind. His head falls to the crook of your neck, the caress of his breaths tickling your neck. The monotonous squeak of your mattress plays in the background. An odd sense of comfort envelops you as his bare chest grazes your own.

Then he lifts his head up, a hand grabbing your thigh, pushing your knee to your chest. He ignores your protests, rutting into you mercilessly. The sounds leaving him can only be described as carnal, hot breath fanning over you.

The new angle allows him to pound into you harder and faster, and all you can do is take it. Your whines get louder as he hits your sweet spot. Your eyelids flutter while your only focus is your impending orgasm.

You feel his large hand wrap around your neck, squeezing hard enough to scare you, but not to cut off your air supply.

He likes how your neck is so delicate, your rapid heartbeat right under his fingertips.

“Tyler,” you struggle out.

He’s relentless with how he thrusts into you. A sick part of him is satisfied when he sees a tear finally fall down your cheek, dropping onto the hand that’s still around your throat.

You hate to think of what exactly pushes you over the edge. All you see are stars as pleasure washes over you. You can feel Tyler’s lips brushing against your cheek, licking away your tears.

His pace has gotten careless and it’s not long before a warmth floods you, harsh breaths wracking him.

Tears still blurry your vision as he lies beside you. You can’t help but lean in closer to him, letting him kiss the top of your head, crying into his chest.

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #dark!tyler galpin #dark!tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #wednesday

[phoenixkaptain]

I don’t want to get into a debate on whether or not Tim’s parents were actually abusive, but I do want to state outright that it doesn’t really matter, because Tim didn’t trust his parents.

What do I mean by this? Well, the beginning of Tim in comics is A Lonely Place of Dying (I’ve talked about it ad nauseum at this point) and one thing you may see people mention is what Tim says about his parents in it.

These are both from Batman (1940-2011) #441

Alfred asks, basically, “You do have parents, don’t you?” And Tim’s body language as he talks about them is strange to me.

Tim scratches his face. This is the only time Tim touches his face in these comics. And his eyes, he stops looking at Alfred, who he’s talking to, and looks at Dick, all the while changing the subject.

Is he lying? No. He’s uncomfortable. A part of this is that this interaction takes place before Tim tells them who he is, which Tim doesn’t want them to know. This is just the first time we see any hint of uncertainty on Tim. Interesting.

More interesting is, in the same issue

“I never told them, but for years I kept having the same nightmare over and over again.”

This is pretty clear cut. He doesn’t tell his parents things. He doesn’t tell them important things. And, well, it’s probably because he doesn’t talk to them very often

These two are from Batman (1940-2011) #444

First things first, Bruce brings up the subject. This isn’t the first time, post his introduction, that we see Tim and Bruce talking. They talk in #443. But Bruce has to broach the subject.

And Tim is avoidant. He says they don’t call often, and he isn’t bothered by it, or he doesn’t appear bothered by it. He doesn’t say what they’re fighting about, nor does he actually say what they’ll do if the trip doesn’t help. He’s very offhand about the whole thing. He almost treats it like he isn’t talking about his parents, but just two people in some circumstances he happens to know about.

Tim cuts Bruce off by pointing out the computer. He doesn’t want Bruce to finish, he doesn’t want Bruce making a promise he ultimately won’t keep, he doesn’t want Bruce to focus on him.

Tim’s relationship with his parents, especialy his father, is, from what I know, always presented in this detached way. Even in Young Justice, when Tim talks to his father, he does so through a newspaper. He doesn’t make eye contact, which is a strange thing because Tim always makes eye contact.

(That’s part of why Tim is a bit unnerving in his introduction. He is always making eye contact. Always.)

Tim doesn’t trust his parents. Why doesn’t he? Because they’re busy. Busy with work, busy with fighting, busy with each other. He doesn’t tell them things. He doesn’t tell them about his nightmares, he definitely didn’t tell them about his vacation week roadtrip, and he doesn’t tell them about Bruce.

Does that make them abusive? I guess not. Not in these issues, anyway. Down the line, I think his father especially crosses the line, but at this point? They’re mutually ignoring each other. Tim talks about his parents in a detached way, as though it doesn’t effect him. And, maybe it doesn’t. This was 1989, not exactly the pinnacle of mental health awareness with proficient knowledge of how absent parents effect the children they’ve not been raising.

Or, Tim used Batman and Robin as a proxy for affection, which is why he feels so strongly towards them and why he tells Alfred they mean everything to them and why Tim is unafraid in the face of his own death but panicky in the face of Alfred’s death. Batman and Robin are just his hyperfixation, something to obsessively focus on and keep track of to keep his head above the water, something he’s been obsessed with since he was three and saw Batman for the very first time, something he says himself he’s followed since he could read to the point that he listened to news reports on the off-chance Batman and Robin might be mentioned at the age of nine.

Who knows? ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯

#the inane ramblings of a madman #batman #robin #tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #in my personal opinion #tim’s parents suck #but that is a personal opinion #i didn’t like tim’s offputting relationship with his dad in yj #where his dad is overly reliant and dependent on him #where their relationship mirrors a classic parent-teenager #but with tim in the role of the parent and his dad in the role of the teenager #and i don’t like his parents apparently not thinking #that maybe watching two people fucking die at the circus #might affect their three yo #the seventies were wild i guess #long post

[flame-resistant]

He felt sick. Why did you look at him like that? Why were you being so nice? Why weren't you scared of him like everyone else? It made his skin itch just enough; he needed it to stop.

Content: stalking, death threats, yandere

He remembered you well, the look you gave when you offered him the soda. How you said it was an extra by mistake, a kind gesture that just didn’t sit well with him. What was your game? Didn’t know who he was? Even if you didn’t, how could you not see he was bad news, how disgusting he looked. A bitter feeling entered his chest as Shigaraki watched you leave, off to do God knows what, just a stupid little civilian who didn’t know any better. You made him sick.

It didn’t take him long to find your social media, only a few days of trying to fish for information. The area the two of you met in was near a university, you looked about his age, so a student fit and damn was he correct. Even there you presented as this kind individual who could do no wrong. Helping with the needy and deprived like some saint, an obsessive thought edging its way into his mind. What would happen if someone made you snap? A grin crossed his dry lips as the bright screen created a halo around his thin figure, but he was far from angelic, and he was damned to prove you weren’t as well.

“Hey who is this loser posting hate comments in your posts?” A friend had asked after you received a few hate comments, while cyberbullying and trolling wasn’t a new topic, it was odd that your small blog would be hit. Shrugging your shoulders, eyes skimmed the words from the anonymous user: “fraud”, “die in a hole”, “you think this makes you good?”; it almost seemed this user was taking everything personal. Though you couldn’t figure out just what you did to them specifically. 

“It’s probably just someone mad and taking it out on random blogs, no? We never interacted before so we can’t possibly know each other. Look, we don't even follow the same accounts.” That was a good point, your friend mumbled in agreement. Perhaps it really just was some spam account, they only told you to be careful in case it got more extreme.

“Just be sure to take screenshots if they threaten you.”

And you did, the comments not stopping only growing by the hour. It got to the point you had to block the account, something you usually didn’t do but felt pressured due to the volume of spam comments and your friend saying they deserved it. A part of you was tempted to just reach out and ask what their problem was, an idea that was dropped when mentioned in your social group. Brows furrowed as the others called you too nice, that people don’t think like you, that some are just fucked up.

It seemed to be going well, after the block the hate comments stopped, and things started to go back into the boring norm of college classes and hanging out in your free time. A notification on your phone distracted you from the recent discussion with your study group. Blood leaving your being as you read the message sent to you, a new account, but the same words.

“Did you really think blocking me would help? I knew it, you’re just like the rest of the trash in this world. One day you’re going to wake up and everything around you is going to be dead, that goody-two-shoes attitude won’t be able to help you either. You’re all going to die and I’m going to do it.”

All attention was back on you when your phone dropped to the floor, your face pale from the feeling of anxiety growing inside you. Saying a quick “excuse me”, they watched you leave to the bathroom in a fit of paranoia. The mirror staring back at you showed a reflection that was never crossed before; widened eyes and mouth agape as you caught your breath. Mind raced with thoughts as you moved to check the stalls behind you, a breath of relief seeing that you were alone.

After the lovely encounter with your new pen pal, your friends convinced you to go to the police in hopes of finding the creep. Though it was shown they couldn’t pinpoint a good enough address, something about a VPN, your mind distracted by other things than computer tech. Looking out the window, every person became a possible threat. Was it the guy in the hoodie getting into a cab? Maybe the woman who was screaming at her phone while ordering a coffee. Your trust in humanity slowly dwindles, a hand on your shoulder breaking those negative thoughts as your friends give a few reassuring smiles. You weren’t fighting this by yourself, you had support.

Taking the police’s advice on blocking the account and switching your social to private, you had a bit more hope that maybe this would end. The small group headed back to your apartment as your friends discussed how crazy the person was. Your mind once more lost in thought on trying to figure out just what you did. The person said you were a goody-two-shoes, maybe they just meant your social media likes and posts, though something in your gut said it was more than just that. It was like they took your existence personally, as if you had truly offended them. A part of you wanted to at least try and apologize for whatever the fuck you did, but the other part knew it would anger the anon more. For now, you decided to push it aside, you did what you could.

Again, things seemed to be calming down, while it was frustrating to be on private, you knew you had to wait it out until things died down. A few weeks, maybe a month or two? God, you just wanted this to be over with, surely the person must have moved on by now, right? Someone couldn’t be that obsessed with freaking you out. So, after a month and a half you opened up your social to the public again. A few happy comments from some mutuals on seeing you back, glad to hear you were doing well. It felt good, almost therapeutic to have that control back. 

Another week and still no hate comments from random accounts, maybe they really did give up? You could be so hopeful. Checking your phone for a notification at the store entrance, you moved to place it back in your pocket before being hit by an oncoming person’s shoulder. A quick apology was sent their way as you fumbled with your phone from almost dropping it. Not receiving a reply, you figured the person was just in a rush. The dark hoodie blending in with a crowd of bystanders. Hearing your phone beep caused your eyes to leave the crowd and until the new notification. A simple sentence message from a new account: watch it.

“So, the creep really does know you? We need to go back to the police!” After the encounter, you booked it to your friend’s place, not feeling safe going shopping alone. Shaking your head, you knew it would be pointless. You didn’t get a good look at the person; from what you could see they looked male but that was just a hunch. The police would just shrug it off like they did before, not enough evidence did nothing to help them possibly hunt down a culprit. 

“They’ll just blow it off again, tell me to put my blog on private again. It was torture not getting to talk to my friends outside of our group, I don’t want to do it again.” 

“Yeah, but this creep saw you! They literally shoulder bumped you!

“But I didn’t see them.”

The two of you fell quiet, a huff from them knowing you were right despite how annoying and stressful the situation was. “So, the guy can just keep stalking you and the police won’t do shit, ridiculous.” 

It was, but it was also legal. An agreement came after this that you wouldn’t be left alone if it could be worked out. More eyes meant more chances of seeing who the guy was, which made sense. Part of you felt bad that your friends made sure to be around before and after your classes and even walking you home. They would reassure you it was fine, that they rather do this than hang up missing posters.

Every now and then a new message would surface from a new account, statements about what you were wearing, even pictures taken of yourself and your friends. Screenshots saved before blocking the next account. It was almost starting to feel normal, as if on cue you knew he would send you a new notification on the dot. And one of those days you finally felt bold, what could he do anyway, you weren’t alone so he couldn’t exactly hurt you, besides you almost wanted him to do something in public to put an end to this and call the police.

moth.eater sent: You should try the mountain dew, maybe it would give some spice to your lame life. netizen.55 sent: Why are you doing this? What did I even do to you? moth.eater sent: I just want to see you tick.

That was it, all he wanted was to piss you off? He was doing a shitty job at that, if anything he was just scaring you into a corner. A phrase you remembered from your psych class came back to your mind, anger was a secondary emotion usually from rejection or fear. This guy was trying to scare you to the point of anger, the thought alone didn’t settle well with you. That rush of adrenaline hitting you once more before you could rationalize your response.

netizen.55 sent: I’m not scared of you.

That seemed to do it, it was the first time he blocked you. A feeling of pride filled your lungs, it’s been a while since you felt this satisfied. You won this weird argument; the block proved it enough. He should leave you alone now. 

It itched; his skin never stopped burning despite how much he scratched. Red eyes stared through the screen; past the words you so bluntly wrote. You weren’t scared of him? Maybe not right now, but you would be. Every single person in this stupid world would be, sensei said so after all. The chair rolled back behind Shigaraki as he grabbed his old hoodie.

Final exams were nearing, but now that your number one hater had been leaving you alone it seemed less daunting. Your friends were even able to do their own things again which helped the guilt die down, no more being some protected being. Picking up the last textbook from the library, it was a straight direction back to your apartment. The time showed just past 7:15pm meaning a few hours of studying before crashing. Sounded like a good Thursday to you, especially with no notifications! A need to skip home almost overcame you, though the look of bystanders kept you in check.

With the apartment door shut and books tossed on the desk, it was time to get to work. Cracking your balcony door just a bit to let a breeze in, your eyes moved to observe the text. It was a relatively quiet night, not yet the weekend in which other college students would be howling below after a few drinks. Sometimes a police siren would go by, nothing too dangerous from the sounds of it, besides a few heroes were patrolling the area. Getting up to take a break, the clock now showing 8:43pm, it didn’t hit you how long you had been reading for. A hand moving to massage your face and wake up. One more hour you told yourself as you walked towards the kitchen for a drink.

Weird, did you leave the kitchen sink on? Brows furrowed as you tried to remember each step you made when you got home but couldn’t really focus due to being in a slight daze. Maybe you washed a dish and forgot to turn the faucet off. Shrugging it off, you turned the handle and moved to the fridge. Cold pizza and a few beers stared back at you, a mental note to get more groceries this weekend was made as you went back to the sink. Maybe past you knew what they were on about with the sink being on.

Cup in your hand, you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes widening from what was staring back at you. The hallway that faced the sink was empty, a window at the very back that usually helped you see what was going on in the dark apartment was now blocked by the figure. Red eyes stared back at your own, each step you took to move back was followed by another from the person.

“You said you weren’t scared of me; you look like everyone else who sees me.” The voice sounded scratched, like he hadn’t drunk anything in years, as if he was the embodiment of a desert. If it didn’t hit before, it hit now on who it was. Quick to run to the bathroom door, the closest one that would get you away from the stalker, you let out a strangled grunt when you were shoved against it instead. Face now pressed into the wood as the palm of his hand kept you in place. “I knew it, once that little facade breaks, you’re just as shitty as everyone else.”

“Let go!”

Not caring about the panic in your voice, you tried to turn around or at least get him to move, a “tsk” was heard as the hooded man showed you the cup you were once holding. Confusion turned into fear as the cup began to turn into dust just by his touch alone, a silent warning that you would be next if you kept it up. Still processing everything that was going on, the only question that could come to mind was asked, your nervous system in full overdrive with logic out the window. “Why?”

“I told you; I just want to see what’s under that mask. You should really think twice on who you offer free drinks to.” 

Darkness was the final reply you got, the world shutting down around you. If you survived this, you would keep the extra soda for yourself.

#flameresistant #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki bnha #shigaraki my hero academia #shigaraki x y/n #yandere shigaraki #poor reader just had an extra soda

[astrosirensblog]

She’s back from the dead

Sirenas Astrology Observations

7

• Whenever I read observations about certain placements for example my venus sign, I go by sign, degree and house. Let’s say someone has a leo venus, 3rd degree in the 12th house. If that would be my placement, I would read observations about leo venuses, gemini venuses (3rd degree is ruled by gemini) and Pisces venuses (12th house is ruled by pisces). With that you have the information that resonate with you the most

• I have the theory that venus risings (taurus/libra) love being obsessed over

• Moon in the same sign in synastry can be ego clashing, moon trine moon is more harmonious

• Water mars people are some jealous stalkers when they like you (talking from experience)

•If you want to seduce a guy with Cancer or Taurus placements, wear vanilla parfume :)

• Fixed signs take years to heal from a heartbreak, it didn’t even had to be a romantic relationship. These people love their people and being betrayed by someone they love literally feels like a stab in the heart

• Seeing a Capricorn venus falling in love is like watching a endless documentary of someone running away from their feelings but can’t stay away from the person they desire

• Aries venus love really deeply, so deeply that the heart break feels like their heart is actually breaking. Worst when it’s in the 12th house. Remember the Album Rihanna published after breaking up with Chris brown?

• 12th house venuses in general have the worst break ups because when they love someone, they give them their all and realizing that person didn’t loved them as much or worst used them, makes them extremely sad but also angry at themselves because they knew they should have left earlier

• In my opinion people with saturn in the 1,2,4 and 11th house are really strong. They had to work on themselves in a really young age and never really got treated like an child which caused a lot of self esteem wounds and trust issues. But keep going, you guys age like wine 🤍

• Water placements are seen as manipulative because they react subjectively to most situations. They see things from their emotional reality and not the actual reality that is going on. That’s why many people feel like they’re being gaslighted when arguing with them (which they technically are🤔)

• Anyway, having emotional intelligence and calmness will benefit water signs tremendously

• You know what’s sad? Seeing a heart broken Air stellium (you never will because these people hurt in silence) so check up on your air sign friends

• While I’m obsessively talking about heartbreaks today let’s talk about Scorpios

• A person with Scorpio placements that stops seeking revenge is top tier but also something that makes me sad because this heart break literally killed them. They are mentally and spiritually reborn and focus on feeling better instead of getting justice. Congratulations you broke someone

• People with Leo placements do that little head things to the people they love which is absolutely adorable

• Earth signs like to get even with people so they don’t feel like they owe something to anyone. Let’s say you buyed them Starbucks. They will randomly call you up and buy you food so they are even with you

• Earth signs look like they don’t enjoy physical touch but 8/10 times it’s their love language (especially taurus)

• Even though Leo and Taurus square each other, in my opinion, couples with these placements look so good together. The leo person knows how much taurus enjoys their dramatic love gestures and they get to chase someone a little which brings excitement into the relationship. Also leo has someone who wants to cuddle and kiss them all the time which is also a win win

#astrology #astro observations #astrology notes #astrology observations #sirenas astrology observations #astrology content

[wintersoldiersoul]

Filming

Summary: You convince Sebastian to make a TikTok with you

A/N: This is kinda shitty but I just thought about how cute it would be if you made a TikTok with Seb and had to write about it. The relationship in this is platonic and I was picturing that Y/N is somewhere in her early 20s.

People always assumed that working on a Marvel movie meant constant action. But truly, most of your days were filled with waiting around in your trailer for hours on end. There were so many moving parts that there were some days you would be called at 4am and have to stay until 5pm only to shoot one scene. Needless to say, you had a lot of downtime. 

It was your castmates that made it all bearable. Instead of sitting alone in your trailers, you were usually all hanging out together. Today was one of those days where you had been waiting around for hours on end to film one scene with Sebastian. You were playing Bucky’s long lost grand-niece, naturally meaning that most of your scenes were with him. 

The two of you were sitting in his trailer, anxiously awaiting for a PA to knock on the door and bring you to set. “Ugh,” you groaned, throwing your head back. 

“You okay over there?” Sebastian chuckled, looking up from his cell phone. Despite being nearly 20 years apart in age, the two of you had grown very close. You were like his little sister.

“I’m losing my mind, Seb. I’ve never been this bored in my fucking life.” 

He laughed and continued to scroll through his phone. 

“What are you even doing on there, anyways? You don’t even use social media,” you sassed. You loved to tease him about his lack of social media presence, calling him old and out of touch, even though you secretly wished you could be as brave as him and stop posting on all of yours, too.

“You know there are other things to do on here,” he held up his phone. “I’m reading an article about space. It’s really interesting.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned again. “God help me.” You opened your own phone and clicked on TikTok, hoping that the For You Page would have something entertaining enough to grab your currently short attention span. After a few minutes, you threw your phone down and sighed again. You watched Sebastian from across the room, silently getting an idea. You smiled slyly, and he looked up at you.

“Oh no,” his eyes narrowed. “You have an idea.”

“Let’s make a TikTok.” You were constantly making TikToks with the other actors and your followers loved it. But you had yet to give everyone what they really wanted. Sebastian.

“Absolutely not,” he replied.

You pouted your lip and widened your eyes. “Pleeeaseeee,” you begged. He laughed at your desperation. “It will be fun I promise. Just one.”

“Stop acting like a child,” he said playfully.

“The fans want it. They’re constantly asking where you are in my videos. People are gonna start thinking that we hate each other, you know.”

He smirked. “Oh they’re constantly asking? They wanna see me in a TikTok that badly?” His tone was playful but you knew him well enough to know that he did seriously doubt it. Despite being so successful, he would always be humble and unsure of himself and just how much his fans truly did love him. 

You snapped a selfie of the two of you and posted it in your Instagram story asking if people wanted to see you and Sebastian make a TikTok. Within seconds, thousands of people were answering “yes” to the poll and your DMs were flooded with pleading messages, begging you to get him to make one. 

“See? Now they won’t leave me alone until I do it.”

He sighed. “Fine. Only for you.” Sebastian had a soft spot for you. Even though you were so much younger than him, he really did think of you as one of his best friends. You were wise beyond your years, having grown up in the spotlight. The two of you loved each other, even just platonically. He was always looking after you, obsessively googling people that you went on dates with, always making sure that you got home safe from nights out. You reminded him a lot of himself when he was your age in a lot of ways. “But no dances. I am definitely not doing a fucking Tik Tok dance.”

“Fair enough.” You scrolled through the app trying to find a good video that the two of you could make. “Oh, I know. This will be fun.” You selected the audio from Gilmore Girls. The classic Jess “Why did you drop out of Yale speech.” You filmed Sebastian as Rory, and yourself as Jess. It took him a bit to get the hang of lip-syncing the words but eventually you had a completed result.

You posted the video with the caption, “As highly requested.” Within seconds, your phone was blowing up with likes and comments of people freaking out over you actually getting Sebastian to make a Tik Tok. 

“See? I told you they wanted it.” You smirked, hitting him lightly on the arm.

He rolled his eyes. “The things I do for you, Y/N.”

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #marvel #avengers #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barns imagine #james bucky barnes

[vemuabhi]

Love at First Punch

Yoho~ people! Here I am back with Oikawa AGAIN. My obsession with this man keeps increasing day by day. I am participating in a collab of Oh My Daddy! - @mikage-rehoe thank you for letting me take part in this collab. I really appreciate this opportunity. I really hope you like this.

Pairing : Dad! Oikawa X Mom! Reader

Word count : 1.1K

Genre : Fluff and just a little moment of Kiss.

copyright © vemuabhi

Please support me by reblogs and comments!

His steps quickened while he still maintained a calm face, his heart was racing. His brown jacket overlayed his dark blue firm fitting T-shirt. It’s the first time ever the school called him. It’s been 8 years since he flet this feeling. The first time when, he was beside you in the hospital room while you gave birth. Now 8 years later, he again felt his heart was about to drop out of his chest when the school called him. All wrong things he could imagine clouded his mind. ‘What had happened?’, his footsteps in the calm corridors clearly indicated how tensed up he was.

He went into the principal’s office to find the little brunette with teary eyes and red cheeks. The moment her brown orbs met his she jumped from the chair and hugged his leg. In a split second, he picked her up in his arms. She was in his arms, and it didn’t seem like she was hurt. That made his heart calm down.

She was trying her best to keep biting her lips, not let her cries out but her heavy tears didn’t stop to fall from her eyes. His thumb caressed her plump soft cheeks as he wiped her tears away.

“Mister Oikawa?”, he heard a voice call him from behind and he turned to look at the principal. Looking at her, the little brunette hugged him tightly but still not breaking her gaze from her.

“Hi, yes I’m Oikawa”, he replied back while his grip on his daughter tightened. But it was as if… he was making sure the kid new that now, he was with her. It was his way of letting her know that ‘Daddy will take care of this’. She instantly recognised his assurance.

A few times at home, when she broke your favourite cups and plates, he took the blame for them and winked at the kid. But she wasn’t crying at home during those times. She loved you, her mommy. She was sure scared of you but never to the point of crying. Now the situation was different because the person who was angry at her was the principal. Not her mommy, who would bring her ice-cream whenever she cried after a bad dream. But… yes, her daddy was there. He will protect her.

“I don’t think you should be punishing my daughter like this”, he caressed the brown hair of his daughter, “I don’t think it was such a big fight. She is a small kid. What could have happened?”

“The boys nose was bleeding”, the principals words made him to gulp. He looked at his girl in his arms. She looked so adorable with her puffy eyes and red cheeks. How could this angel beat someone to the point they bled? Then he remembered the time you punched him in the face and his nose bled… ‘Ah… so you get that from your mother’, he took a deep breath. Well, we all know the saying of Love at first punch right.

“I will not escalate this situation if you make her apologize and make sure she never does this again”, the principal adjusted her glasses while he sighed.

“Can I know where the little boy is?”, he asked and she took them to the nurse’s office. There he saw a little boy, maybe a bit shorter than his girl but surely was of the same age. He wasn’t crying and was having a tissue up his nose to stop the bleeding. As soon as the father and daughter duo entered the room, he turned towards them.

“Sweetie, say sorry to him”, he caressed his daughter’s cheek as she nodded. He let her down to walk towards the boy and tell him sorry. He smiled at her and talked to the teachers for some time and brought her back home. On the way, making sure to tell her that she shouldn’t punch and kick others just because they made fun of the princess she liked in her favourite cartoon. They made a deal to not tell you if she listened. The duo sealed the Pinky promise with a kiss on each other’s fingers before getting down the car.

That evening when you came home, your daughter was happily drawing in her book as your husband greeted you with a kiss on cheek.

“Babe, how was your day~”

“It was good. But don’t you think you are not telling me something?”, you raised your eyebrow as you pulled him in a hug. He laughed awkwardly and asked, “Whatttt babe? I don’t think so”.

“Nah… I know… I know what she did in school. Even I got a call. But as they informed me that you had already met the principal and I didn’t need to meet them”, your grip tightened in around him in a threatening way. Your lips were smiling but your eyes weren’t.

He let out a defeated sigh and pulled you into the kitchen, away from the living room where your daughter was. “Babe~ Don’t be angry at her. It was a fight between kids”

“She gave him a nose bleed”

“She gets it from you”, he said making you to pinch his cheek. “Ow Ow Ow! I know that’s wrong but I made sure she said Sorry”. You let him go as a smile formed on your lips.

“Tooru~”, you said as your hands tugged on his Tee. He seemed so adorable while he was being a dork but he didn’t let his responsibilities aside. That made you to fall in love with him more and more every time.

“I love you”, your words made him crazy. With one swift move he pinned you to the kitchen counter and placed a kiss on your lips. His left hand travelled in your hair as his other hand gripped your waist. He was too strong of course. His daily workout and the practice he did as a professional Volleyball player wasn’t not seen. Especially it made a huge impact when he was alone with you.

“No, we cant. She is in the living room”, you tried to push him away but he wouldn’t budge.

“But-”, he stopped mid-sentence when he heard the little footsteps approaching. He let you go as quickly as he had previously pinned you.

The little girls giggled while she showed her drawing to you both. And… for the first time in his life, Oikawa’s heart was broken by his little angel. But you were so thrilled looking at her art. You awed as you sat infront of her taking her book in your hand.

“Tooru look at this, she drew herself and who is this?”, you asked as she told the name of the boy who she punched that day. As they say, love at first punch.

Thanks for reading!

copyright © vemuabhi

Likes, Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

Follow for more.

#shy shy shy #husbando #my writing #ohmydaddycollab #haikyū!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyu #oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #tooru oikawa #oikawa #oikawa tōru

[robosanz]

ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ᴍᴇ

"𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔞 𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔱, 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔣." - 𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

summary: anything you draw/write on your own skin appears on your soulmate's. what happens when you need to cheat on your chemistry exam, and these formulas suddenly appear on Kuroo's arms who has to take the same test?

word count: 3,099

note: this is my first time posting something on tumblr and i'm still not completely sure how tumblr works, hehe. usually i post on ao3 and wattpad (under the same name) but i wanted to try it out here as well. I hope you like this oneshot :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Are you ready for our chemistry test?”

Your best friend’s question made you stop in your tracks in the crowded hallway. A few students walked into you, complaining about you not moving and holding them up. You, however, had other concerns; the chemistry test had completely slipped your mind, despite it being the biggest test with every 3rd year having to take it. With wide eyes you looked at your friend and grabbed his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?”

A sheepish smile grew on his lips, his warm brown eyes not looking at you. “I forgot to tell you,” he admitted with a shy chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. He knew how you were but he had been busy and forgot to remind you. 

You clasped your hands over your face. “Hayate, what am I gonna do now?!” You always had problems remembering important things concerning school, mostly because you didn’t care that much about school. However, you still managed to get good grades and that’s why you kept not being bothered by it too much.

“Hey, you’ll manage,” Hayate said with a warm smile and put a hand on your shoulder. “You somehow always do,” he mumbled. He was just as clueless as you about how you managed to get good grades. 

You took a breath and nodded. “Yeah you’re right,” you said and rolled up your sleeves, eying your inner arm. Hayate raised an eyebrow while you tried to estimate how much stuff you could fit on them. Chemistry was one of your strongest subjects so you only needed to write down specific details that were new to you. Looking up with a smile, you nodded. “You know, I guess I’ll really manage.”

Hayate shook his head with a smile. “Your soulmate must think you’re some loser.” 

You gasped and put a hand on your chest. “Excuse me, I’m actually a genius if it wasn’t for my laziness.”

Hayate chuckled and ruffled your head lovingly. “Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that. But they sure must think you’re always cheating in school because you’re stupid.” 

You pouted and crossed your arms. It was still true what Hayate said - if school stuff would appear on your arms like that you would think exactly that. But your soulmate has never written something on their arm or anywhere else before. It was mostly you who wrote on your arm; mostly for cheating on tests. “Well, they could also write something on their arm for once.”

Hayate shrugged. “Maybe they’ll finally freak out about this much advanced chemistry and write something back.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t want them to write anything,” you huffed, making Hayate chuckle. It was quite strange that you still hadn’t heard anything from your soulmate. Normally, people would go crazy to find out more about them and most of the people already found them by the age of 16. You were now 18 and had never even written a word with them. You weren’t too obsessed with finding them and they seemed to feel the same way about it.

Hayate had also found his soulmate about a year ago. She was a sweet and kind girl in your year. You got along with her a lot and she even became one of your best friends in a year. You were happy for your best friend and even if he teased you about possibly not having a soulmate, you didn’t make the effort to find them in order to prove him wrong.

The bell snapped you out of your thoughts and you gasped. “Shit, I’ll be back in five minutes,” you called out to Hayate before running down the hall towards the lady’s restroom. You needed to scribble down a few things on your arm before the exam. The brown-haired boy chuckled and shook his head before making his way to class.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kuroo was bouncing his knee up and down while waiting for the teacher to enter. The tense atmosphere in the classroom only contributed to his nervousness. It was unusually silent, only the clock’s ticking echoed through the room full of students. 

The upcoming test was taking a toll on everyone, and despite being one of Kuroo’s favourite subjects, the chemistry test was making him nervous as well. And when he noticed black lines appearing on his arms, he tensed even more; especially when the lines formed into exactly the chemistry formulas and definitions he needed for the test. He read the things appearing on both of his arms briefly before rolling down his sleeves with shaky hands and a quickly beating heart. He didn’t want to fail the test just because his soulmate decided to go crazy about chemistry. What the fuck? 

This was not the first time things about school subjects appeared on his arms. At first he thought that his soulmate was cheating themselves through their exams but somehow it didn’t make sense that they only wrote down a few specific things and not everything. Kuroo shook his head and the teacher came into the room.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A sigh left your lips when the exam was over. You didn’t get caught cheating and the notes on your arms even helped you with some answers. You packed all your things and left the classroom where Hayate was already waiting for you. When you saw him, a grin grew on your face. “I completely nailed it.” 

He chuckled and shook his head, “yeah, but only because you cheated.” 

“I didn’t completely cheat,” you said and crossed your arms. He raised an eyebrow, making you glare at him with narrowed eyes. You two had a staring contest until someone bumped into your shoulder. You snapped your head over to the person only to see the school’s volleyball captain. You huffed and looked away from his retreating figure. Everyone at school knew Kuroo; he was one of the popular boys everyone swooned over. You looked at Hayate, “your captain is rude.” He didn’t even apologise for bumping into you.

Hayata smiled, amusement flashing in his eyes. “He’s actually pretty nice,” he said, making you roll your eyes. “You know, everyone is kinda waiting for him to find his soulmate. The girls are freaking out over him.”

You only hummed, not really interested in the whole Kuroo situation. You had other things to think about. The girls who were obsessed over him were stupid in your eyes; there were more important things to think about. Turning to your best friend you shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun at practice.” He nodded and ruffled your hair before you went separate ways. 

At home, you spent the rest of the day doing nothing in particular and when you stepped out of the shower, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Tightening the towel around you, you gawked at your arm.

'I have no idea why you’re suddenly a chemistry freak, but for once your scribbling helped me in an exam today.'

“Oh my god,” you mumbled and tightly shut your eyes, cringing at all the things you have written on your arm before. “My soulmate really thinks I’m stupid.” A part of you had secretly hoped that Hayate was right and you were one of the rare cases that didn't have a soulmate. 

Quickly putting on your pyjamas, you took a pen and sat on your bed. You tapped the pen against your chin while looking at the first ever message you received from your soulmate. “What am I doing?” You shook your head and were about to put the pen away and roll down your sleeve when another message appeared. 

'You’re not gonna tell me what you needed the notes for?'

“Screw it,” you mumbled and opened the pen’s lid with your mouth before writing down something on your arm as well. 

'I had a chemistry exam as well.'

You raised your eyebrows at the coincidence. How were the chances that you and them both had a chemistry exam on the same topics? With knitted eyebrows you watched new words appear on your skin. Could it be that we are in the same school?

'What a coincidence. So you normally cheat on your tests?'

You let out a huff and crossed your arms, considering not to answer anymore. Whoever that was seemed smug and you didn’t want to keep talking to them. Pressing your lips together, you glanced at your arm briefly. A groan escaped your lips before you scribbled on your arm. 

'I normally don’t cheat, I tend to forget a lot of my exams so I only need a bit of help.'

A few minutes passed and you were still staring at your arm, waiting for an answer. But nothing came. “Whatever,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes before laying down. You closed your eyes but let out a sigh before you angrily peeked at your arm one last time. A smile crept on your face when you read the words. 

'You still helped me today, thanks. Good night :)'

Scribbling down a good night as well, you went to sleep with a small smile on your face. Maybe they’re not that bad.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Your soulmate really did write to you?” Hayate’s eyebrows shot up as he eyed you nodding your head. A sudden knowing smirk crept on his face, making you knit your eyebrows. “This is fucking amazing,” he mumbled to himself. 

“Oi,” you slapped his arm, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He hid something from you and being the noisy person you were, you wanted to know on the spot. And the smug smirk didn’t mean anything good. Hayate only shrugged and whistled before going to class. With narrowed eyes you followed him to the classroom; for the rest of the day you didn’t get out of him what he was smirking about. 

“You’re not gonna tell me?” You crossed your arms when you both stood in front of the school building after classes. He didn’t have practice today, so you walked home together. 

Hayate smirked. “If you really want to know,” he shrugged and glanced at you with an amused expression, “Kuroo wants to find his soulmate now.”

You sweatdropped and slapped the back of his head. “Idiot, and I thought it was something important.”

He chuckled and stepped away from you. “That’s kinda important, and I know exactly who it is.” A wide smirk crept on his lips when your wide eyes snapped over to him in surprise. “I saw something written on his arm yesterday and coincidentally I saw the exact thing on someone else’s arm as well.”

“No way!” You grabbed his arm looking up at his face. “Tell me.”

Hayate pushed you away from him before walking ahead, shaking his head. “I thought you weren’t interested in him.” He laughed internally. If you only knew.

“You’re right,” you said and jogged up to your best friend, “I don’t care.” Grabbing your backpack’s straps, you bit your lip. You really wanted to know who it was and Hayate knew it. You glanced at him. “It’s Kenma, isn’t it?” It wouldn't surprise you even a bit if it was the quiet setter. You had always thought that they were too much of best friends and partners to not be soulmates.

“I won’t tell you, but maybe he’ll tell you.”

“Idiot,” you grumbled, “why should he tell me?”

Hayate only shrugged, sending you an innocent grin and a shrug. You huffed and crossed your arms, oblivious to all the hints your best friend already gave you. Just yesterday, Hayate had seen both of Kuroo’s arms in the boy’s changing room. And they were full of the notes you had taken a few minutes prior to the exam. Hayate was glad that it was someone like Kuroo that was your soulmate. The both of you were quite similar; you were good at school, mostly introverted and both of you were calm and collected people - at least if Yaku didn’t trigger Kuroo.

“You really won’t tell me, will you?” You stopped in front of your front yard and pouted slightly. 

Hayate shook his head with a fond smile, happy that his friend would soon grow up. “Get some sleep, I have a feeling that tomorrow will be a great day.” He patted your head before walking to his house, leaving you standing there with crossed arms. 

With knitted eyebrows you looked after him until he was out of your sight. Heaving a sigh, you got into your house and immediately went into your room to take a nap. However, a message on your arm made you stop. With knitted eyebrows and a small blush you sat on your bed.

'I want to know more about you. Are you free?'

You gulped and took a pen. 

'Yes I am.'

While waiting for the answer, you quickly changed into something comfortable and got under the covers, taking a pen with you. You opened your laptop to watch a movie when new lines appeared on your arm.

'Nice, you can text me. xxx xxxx xxx'

You froze, not believing they gave you their number just like this. They may be your soulmate, but you still hesitated before saving their number on your phone. For all you knew, they could’ve just given you a random number.

Biting your lip, your fingers slowly typed hi before lingering over the send button. Shutting your eyes tightly you pressed send. When your phone vibrated, you peeked one eye open and looked at the text.

'I almost thought you wouldn't text me.'

You rolled your eyes with a small smile.

'I almost didn't but whatever.'

The both of you texted for a while and you found out that his name was Tetsuroo and he was also in 3rd year high school and even in Tokyo. He liked chemistry and was therefore interested in you after he saw all the notes. If you hadn't written all these things on your arm, he probably wouldn't have contacted you. But before you could manage to find out more about him, he ended the conversation, saying he still had something to do.

With a sigh you laid down, covering yourself with your blanket completely. "He's not that bad," you mumbled with a small smile before letting sleep take over. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You huffed and put your chin on your palm while the teacher was going on and on about maths. You were good in the subject and already knew all of that, boring you to death. Beside you, Hayate was busy taking notes while you looked out of the window, not paying any attention. 

When something appeared on your palm, you felt your heart skip a beat and waited for him to complete his sentence with a small smile.

'Hi, I’m bored out of my mind right now.'

You resisted the urge to giggle and took a pen to tell him that you’re in the same position as him and that maths was killing you.

'Well, we could continue our conversation from yesterday.'

You nodded to yourself already knowing which question you wanted to ask next. After all, you wanted to know roughly in which area he was living in.

'Which school do you go to?'

He didn’t take long to answer and when he did, your heart threatened to stop right there and then. Staring at the words nekoma high school with wide eyes, you sat up straighter. Immediately, you looked around the classroom, trying to find someone who was looking or writing on his palm. When you found no one you turned back to your own palm. 

'Which class are you in?'

Your heart dropped and you jumped off your seat, scaring everyone in the room with the loud scraping sound of your chair. The teacher sent you a glare to which you quickly bowed and excused yourself. Avoiding Hayate’s questioning look, you rushed out of the classroom. 

“What the fuck?” you said to yourself, leaning against the wall beside the classroom before pressing your palm on your forehead. You only knew one person in this class that was called Tetsuro and that was Kuroo.

“You don’t seem to be too happy about me.” 

You looked up when his deep voice reached your ears. Kuroo stood in front of you with one hand in his pocket and a small smirk on his handsome face. Pushing yourself off the wall, you cleared your throat quickly. “I don’t know what you mean,” you trailed off, not looking at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips and he nodded to himself. “Lucky me, I got a really charming soulmate.”

“Hey, I can be charming,” you quickly defended yourself, making him laugh. Heat rose to your face and you huffed, crossing your arms. However, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. At least, a decent person was your assigned soulmate and not someone you couldn’t stand or was absolutely disgusting in character. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile crept on your lips at the realisation.

“You sure are a cutie.” Kuroo patted your head, making your face beet red. You swatted his hand away from your head, your smile falling quickly. “Well, since we found each other, I wanted to ask if you’re free on Saturday.”

Taking a breath, you slowly nodded. It would make no sense to reject the boy now. Why not give it a try. It can’t be that bad.

Kuroo smiled and nodded but before he could add something, Hayate put his arms around your and Kuroo’s shoulder, pulling you two closer to him. “Finally, you two found each other,” he grinned, “and here I thought you two oblivious people would take weeks to find each other.”

You pulled out of the group hug and slapped the back of Hayate’s head. “You knew and you didn’t tell me, idiot.”

He rubbed the spot you had hit and chuckled innocently. “Then it wouldn’t have been fun for me,” he admitted and shrugged, earning a glare from you. He smirked and looked between you and his captain, “but you already have a date.”

“No,” you quickly said, knowing exactly what your best friend was thinking, “you’re not coming as well.” Turning to Kuroo, you narrowed your eyes at the taller boy. “Don’t tell him where we’re going or he’ll deadass come.”

Kuroo chuckled and nodded while Hayate let out an offended cry and dramatically fell on his knees, clasping his chest. “The betrayal!”

With a blush you grabbed Kuroo’s arm, and dragged him away from the scene your best friend was causing. “If anyone asks, we don’t know him.”

#fanfiction #writing #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyu x reader #kozume kenma #anime #kuroo tetsurou #hq #soulmates

[dross-the-fish]

Okay I don’t know if this has been asked before so I’m sorry if it has BUT. What would the crew + Griffin and Dorian look like slash act like under the effects of the Hyde potion……. I’m Curious

Hasn't been asked before, and that's a really good question tbh. They way I have the hyde potion work is that it brings out not necessarily a "worst self" but rather a twisted version of who the drinker wants to be or who they think they are deep down. Griffin's invisibility would become less literal and more in line with shapeshifting. he can take any appearance or form except his original one and if he fucks up in an old skin he'll just put on a new face. This will cause him to spiral and possibly even forget who Griffin was, he just endlessly becomes new people and finds that he is now everyone and no one. His sense of identity would shatter.

Dorian would become almost doll like, beautiful and horrifying, his skin is too flawless, his eyes are to radiant. It falls into a creepy uncanny valley effect as his face looks almost mask like yet anyone who is in close proximity becomes dazzled by him. Under the influence of the potion he mutilates the faces anyone he sees who might be a threat to his beauty. If he was cruel before he is horrific now. Watson would become a fanatic obsessed with justice, almost a crusader of sorts as he loses the part of him that is humble or empathetic under the influence of the potion. He'd be younger and stronger but all of his softness would be gone. I imagine he'd look larger and more square as this is already a major part of his personality, it's just been amplified and all the temperance removed. Quincey would be similar to Edward, small, hairy and dwarfish but he's not inherently cruel, he'd be more playful and impish. Quincey is at an age where he's expected to act like and adult so in daily life he tends to act mature and take the high road. With his new persona he'd sneak into movies, go to bars and forget about his responsibilities or the impending weight of picking a career and settling into adult life.

Larry would also find himself more energetic and talkative, he'd be confident, almost to the point of arrogance and give in to kleptomaniac urges. If he sees what he wants he'll steal it. I see his "hyde" form being lanky and crooked with elongated limbs. Selma would become a monster. She'd become the things she's hunted all her life and all of the rage and despair she's forced herself to shelve would twist her into a hateful thing that didn't even look human anymore because she feels deep down that her humanity was stripped from her a long time ago. She'd be massive and terrible to look at. Theo would become smaller. She'd become a fragile and lost little creature that can't stop crying because deep down she's fearful that there's nothing left of her anymore except dregs that can't be loved by anyone. She'd be repulsive to look at but she'd beg and cling to anyone who got near her not to leave her.

Erik would become ordinary. He would not be a genius, not gifted with music, not possessing of a horrifying temper or visage just an average man who could go out to the park and sit and watch birds and maybe have a conversation with some strangers. He wouldn't even notice that he doesn't remember how to play a violin. It would scare him how happy it makes him to be "just Erik," with nothing else to him. Adam would become physically attractive but obsessive and shallow. He'd look like the version of himself Victor had wanted to create and he'd even call his inverse "Victor" because there's still something in him that needs some part of Victor to still be alive. Even if it's only because Adam refuses to bury him and let him rest. He'd indulge himself in all the things he could never have as Adam but rather than making him happy he'd still find he resents "Victor" for having what "Adam" cannot. When he's "Victor" he feels disdain for "Adam" and when he's Adam he is jealous of "Victor"

[rayshippouuchiha]

Sorry Ray, this is the anon that sent a message asking for permission to ramble vaguely spoiler-y info about my favorite character at you ages ago. Not sure if you even remember, since it’s been a few weeks since you gave the go-ahead. It took me a while to get all my thoughts in order, because at any given time I will start spontaneously frothing at the mouth over thoughts of this character but I’ve never tried to put all of those feelings into words at once, so I kinda procrastinated a bit that first day, and then work got freaking CRAZY and I just couldn’t even get back to it until now. I think I was finally able to put it all together in a way that kinda makes sense, so here it is at long last. I do have to warn you it's gonna get pretty long though, so get ready, bc here we go.

Let me paint a picture of the scenario for you. We’ll start by imagining the typical "Groundhog day" deal; usually we can expect the people involved to be classified into two categories – first, the main character, who remembers everything and whose actions cause (and eventually stop) the loops, and then everyone else around them, who all remember nothing and don't even notice anything except for the "final" timeline.

Following the typical Groundhog Day tropes, we could expect our main character to either wish for the loop/wake up in it or some other such situation, then spend the remainder of their time in it trying out various different scenarios and getting into a whole host of shenanigans trying to escape it, while the rest of the cast react in various ways, usually starting out funny/light-hearted, then sad or angry as our MC fucks up more and more, then finally all becoming happy by the “final loop” where the MC gets their shit together and achieves the loop-ending conditions (usually by making everyone happy). In this particular piece of media I’m so obsessed with, however, our MC is not trying to escape the loop – they’re delighting in it.

We the “audience” don’t realize the true horror of such a thing at first, because we’re delighting in the joy of every one of the (masterfully crafted) characters reaching their happy ending, but it turns out that for the person with the time powers, finding the “happily ever after” is not enough. They’re used to the power of the loop now, are in full control of it, and are having the time of their life finding out just what happens whenever they try to change anything. They’ve been at it for so long that the people trapped in the loop with them have stopped mattering, and they’ve gone on to try literally everything they can think of to try, up to and including killing everyone, because they figure why should they care? No one would remember anyway, so they get to use their time powers to the fullest, no consequences, right?

Except, no, not in this case. Because there is a third category of character in this particular Groundhog day nightmare; one person trapped in the loop, but not controlling it, who knows.

At first, both MC and us the “audience” don’t know this. This character acts like a carefree, goofy, lazy jokester, pulling pranks and making puns, generally having laid-back fun all the time – the last person you’d expect to be going through something so awful. But pretty soon, signs start to appear that there’s more to him than meets the eye. If you watch him veeery carefully, it looks like he might have some kind of power over time and/or space? And then he gives a sort of cryptic warning that makes you go hmmm but then stop thinking about, because he goes right back to pulling harmless practical jokes on people as if nothing’s wrong.

But then there’s a sudden shift – he tells the MC that if he hadn’t promised the opposite they would have been dead already. It is an incredibly chilling moment, seeing this generally laid-back guy become downright menacing, but even then, some of the people seeing this unfold might not yet realize the horror of his situation because this happens during one of the “kinder”, initial loops. They might wonder why he would say such a thing, either not yet understanding the implications of the MC’s power or not getting where his hostility could come from, since up to that point he mostly behaves in pretty much the same friendly fashion. Other people can end up thinking he’s being too harsh, because the MC is using their powers for good, right?

Pretty soon, as we watch more loops unfold where the MC gets increasingly violent, we end up seeing that thought is wrong, and they absolutely deserve his hatred. Even so, this guy’s response to the ever-escalating brutality is actually… way too chill? Most other people in the world try to fight back at one point or another, but he never does. In fact, unless the MC has actively killed his family in that particular loop, he never stops acting friendly, even when other friends and acquaintances have died. This is of course, very intriguing, and we can’t help but wonder what his deal is as we go along this journey.

Then we reach the worst possible scenario, where the MC has killed every single person for miles around, and when he makes a final stand to try to stop them once and for all, we find out the whole truth - He reveals that he has known what the MC has been doing all along, has been dealing with similar loops for a long time, and as a result has become somewhat nihilistic.

After all, he has been at the mercy of this person (and their predecessor with a similar power) for an incredibly long time. Just, imagine what that would do to a person. This is not your typical “Groundhog day”; it’s not limited to a few loops lasting a week at most. Remember, these people are actively trying to do literally everything that could possibly be done. They’ve not only tried every iteration of everything there is to do in this place, but also talked to and killed every person in every possible combination, just to see how their loved ones or acquaintances react, to the point where they no longer see them as people. How long would that take? Depending on how creative and determined they were, it could have taken years, especially if they spent several days or weeks on every loop, as they surely would have.

Just imagine, what do you do, if you know time is looping, but it could take days, weeks, months, or years, before time loops back around to the “starting point”, but you never know and have no way to tell or predict when any loop will end? You can expect everything you know and worked for so hard for the past however long to disappear, just like that, like a snap of your fingers, and you have to accept it. There is nothing you can accomplish, you have no power to do anything. Any effort can be reversed, at any given time, at some points for no reason you can understand because everyone was happy, but still this being, this… uncaring demigod, resets again. And again. And again. So nothing you do matters, nothing you try changes anything in the long run, not really, because this apathetic, unsympathetic, almost sociopathic person controlling the lives of you and everyone around you cares about One Thing, and one thing only; their own enjoyment. Their curiosity. The “need” to know what happens. A need that drives them to do the unthinkable time and time again. Because, again, who cares? As far as they know, no one can remember, no one will know, there are no consequences. So they loop, and they loop, and they loop, over and over and over, until it must have been decades, maybe even centuries, since the loops started.

And I just, whenever I think too hard about this piece of media, and this character, and what you can find out about him, it wrecks me, okay? It just, destroys me. Because when we think about it, taking all of this into account, his behavior makes perfect sense. Characters around him talk about how he gives only the bare minimum effort, call him lazy, but of course he is. Of course being caught in an eternally-looping hell cycle would wreck your motivation, because why put anything beyond the minimum required effort into anything, if it could all be lost in an instant with no warning? Why try to stop this person, if any progress towards that goal could be turned back whenever the person with the time powers wishes? Also, of course he acts aloof and laid-back - he seems to have taken refuge in apathy, trying to show that he cares as little as possible, because how would caring help except for making him hurt more?

How do you process all of that? Even if he doesn't completely remember (and we have no way to know whether he does or not, because why would he let the MC [and the audience with them] know that he remembers, when they might use that against him just to see how he reacts to further loops? I know I wouldn’t), how do you deal with the knowledge, the weight of thousands of lives lived and lost, thousands of deaths for yourself and everyone you love that you can't help, that you can't stop, that you have no way to control or prevent, that no effort made and no dream fulfilled ever matters because nothing lasts? How do you stay sane?

But that’s not all! Now, the hidden hostility is the one that makes sense, while the friendliness he showed most of the time is the questionable one. Why bother acting so inviting? Turns out, as we find out during that last terrible fight, that it’s because he figured that maybe this person that has caused him so much pain, this individual whom he should see as an unfeeling demon, might be doing all of this because they were unhappy. He was secretly hoping they could be friends, so they would be so happy they became satisfied with their reality and let time run its course. And doesn’t that just break your heart? Even after everything, he hasn’t lost his caring heart, even showing at times that he’s worried about this monstrosity that has the potential to doom him, that he can never know which facet he’s going to get next; the friend or the killer. He sees this person who has caused untold amounts of pain to him and everyone he knows, but he still held on to hope that they might change, that they could be better, that the friend he found in the kinder loops was lying there beneath the surface somewhere; so he offered food and laughs and friendship and hoped for the best. GODDAMNIT *pounds fists against the walls*

Extra-heartbreaking fact: We can find out later that he has a way to keep track of events between loops – a place exclusively for him that time cannot touch. During one of the happier loops, where everyone’s dream gets fulfilled, he gets a picture with all of his friends and family together, including the abomination that made it possible, and he places it in the only location where the loops will not erase it - because he wants to remember this forever even if it hurts, even if the loops reset and they lose the memories, he wants to keep this… which means we know for certain that if the MC decides to reset time after reaching the happiest possible future he definitely knows they betrayed him. I am in agony goddammit. Like, I just imagine how he felt the times when the anomaly resets the loop and does it all again; everyone’s dream is fulfilled, everyone is happy, and he races back to that place, to put a picture commemorating the happiest day of his life in a spot where it will never go away… but there’s already an identical picture there. Can you imagine how that would feel? This person who’s earned your trust has betrayed you, maybe even a thousand times over, and whatever they said they feel this time they don’t care, they can’t, not really, or they wouldn’t have done something like this. It’s awful why am I thinking about this again why am I doing this to myself asdfghsrgsdfd *crying screaming frothing at the mouth*

Okay, going back to his final stand, knowing everything we know now, why does he try to stop the MC in that final battle, if nothing matters? Simple; turns out if the MC succeeds and murders everyone, they’d get strong enough to end time itself, and despite it all, even though he’s dealing with what must be severe depression, even though he holds no hope for himself and has nothing he looks forward to, he still wants the best for his family and friends. He still cares about them, wants them to have at least a chance to be happy, even if it’s just temporary, so much so that he’s willing to use every last bit of his considerable powers, every trick up his sleeve, every ounce of willpower still in his body to fight what he knows is an unwinnable battle, over and over and over, just on the one in a thousand chance that he can force the anomaly to stop, or convince them to try any other possibility. It just explodes my brain every time I take even a second to think about it *weeps*

Anyway, thus end my entirely-too-long rant about my favorite piece of media and character. Hopefully you enjoyed it even a little. Maybe think of it as an AO3 oneshot in this trying times? Lol

Thanks for hearing me out, love ya!❤️

Forgot to add one thing to my crazy long rant about my favorite character just now (see the previous “Groundhog day” ask if you need context sorry but I just had to add this):

It doesn’t help my obsession that I see people misinterpret him so often. It’s infuriating; they fall for the mask he wears and the role he plays, the ways in which his circumstances have forced him to act, they say “he’s so strong, how could he be so apathetic? How dare he not try from the beginning to stop this nightmare?” or “wow he’s still so aloof even when his friends die, he really doesn’t care about anyone but himself” and I’m just like… are we looking at the same person? Are we interpreting the same piece of media? Where have they been? How have they not noticed the million little ways in which he shows he cares? He clearly appears to be coping with serious mental health issues; he wants nothing, finds it hard to do anything but joke or sleep, may be eating less, doesn’t bother with getting anything for himself, and doesn’t seem to be able to honestly find anything to look forward to most of the time. He is a deeply hurt individual struggling basically alone (because no one else is aware and they can’t be made to remember, not for long) to survive a horrifyingly bleak situation but still he makes sure his family has everything they could possibly want or need, still takes care of his friends to the best of his ability, still makes sure to bring joy to others even when he admits he can no longer feel it himself, still finds it in himself to care about the “harbinger of doom” (so to speak), and is still a fundamentally kind person, who cares so, so much despite his best efforts to the contrary and I just- I love him, I love him so so much, and it makes me so angry how others fall for his façade of apathy and brand him as uncaring. He deserves the world, I know he’s fictional but I’d die for him.

Ok, NOW I’m done. Sorry again, just made an already long ass rant even longer lmao but tbh I have no regrets I feel free uwu

~~~

I can tell that this has got you by the entire soul and after reading this I honestly can't blame you because hot damn that's a lot.

#RayRambles