#but now he bats pens out of her hand to play with them

[gemstarstarlight]

I sent this to my roommate who is Decidedly Not On Tumblr, but maybe you all will enjoy this better than she will.

[rueclfer]

shoujo touya save meeee pleaseee shoujo touya save me from the trenchessss

pull me through // touya todoroki

You awkwardly stood a few steps behind Touya as he felt around under the doormat for the spare key to his home. You two got along quite well for a couple of students who were on the opposite sides of the rankings, but never close enough to visit each other's home like this.

You were student council president, and Touya got suspended for setting the toilet on fire last year. That is how far you two were.

"Alright, come on in." He holds the door open for you to walk in before him.

At first glance, it seemed close to extravagant, but the closer you looked, it felt cozier by the second from the amount of framed photos, artwork, and trinkets displayed on every wall and counter.

In the living room, his younger siblings were all lined up like ducks as if they were awaiting for your arrival.

"Hi Fuyumi." You threw a wave at her.

"Hi Y/N!" She beams back.

You two worked on the student council together, so you were already close with her despite being a year older.

"Wait, this is Y/N?" The middle child with all white hair exclaims.

Fuyumi quickly swats her brother's arm, shushing him.

"Oooohh. Y/N, I know you!" The littlest one states, stepping up to you with an All Might figurine in hand.

"Oh do you?" You cock an eyebrow at Touya as he takes your jacket to put up by the door and your school bag off of your shoulder. You bent down to his level. "Your brother talks about me often?"

"No I don't." He quips before he could answer for himself, shooting a glare in their direction. "I don't know what either of them are talking about."

"Meet my ball and chains." He huffs with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Shouto, Natsuo, and you already know Fuyumi from your nerd thing."

"Can I play with them?" Shouto asks, moving over to Touya to tug on his pant leg.

"No you can't, turd. We have to work on a project so none of you bother us. Kay?" He motions you to follow him upstairs, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

You quickly follow behind him. "But maybe after!" You call out from midway up the stairs, giving them a final wave.

Upon entering his room, he sets your bag on his desk, letting you take the seat while he settles on his bed right next to you, whipping his laptop open.

Despite being somewhat of a delinquent, you knew that Touya was smart and had capabilities to be top of the class if he really cared to. You had no worries about this project, but the circumstance of being alone in his bedroom on the other hand, almost made you nervous,

"Your siblings seem to like me." You broke the tense silence as you two logged onto your presentation. "You definitely talk about me, huh?"

"It's probably Fuy. She's a big fan of yours." He glances over at you. "She talks about you way too much around here."

"You got a problem with that?"

"What, like I don't get enough of you at school?" He chuckles, biting on the end of his pen. "Don't I, Prez?"

"Lucky you, then. Not many people have that kind of access to me. I'm pretty high in demand, if you ask me." You tease back, meeting his eye for a moment before returning your attention back on your screen.

He pushes his laptop out and leans back in his bed, propping his upper half up on his elbow to face you with his pen still hanging out of his mouth.

"I wonder how those people feel about you spending all that time with such a loser like me? Not scared to tarnish that golden reputation of yours?"

"You give yourself too much credit." You laugh. "You've been such a good boy lately, I don't think anyone really bats an eye." You say sweetly, swiveling your chair to fully face him.

He chuckles to himself and diverts his eyes away from yours as a rush of blood floods to his cheek.

"Anyways..." He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as his ears slightly flush into red. "Back to this bullshit."

You two talk back and forth about the project for a while, slipping into silence every now and then as you work on your respective slides.

In your peripheral, you noticed that every so often, he would glance up at you from his screen like clockwork. It makes you a bit too self aware of yourself, forcing you to keep your posture straight, not to bounce your leg too much, and to keep your fidgeting at bay.

"You're grinding your teeth." He mutters, breaking the silence. "I can hear it, like sandpaper."

"It's just a focus thing." You reply, biting the inside of your cheeks to combat the habit.

"I can't stop looking at them in class.." You hear from outside of the door, paired with the boys' giggling. "...They're all I can think about, I feel so stupid."

You and Touya both stop shoot each other a confused glance, not quite sure what Natsuo and Shouto were going on about in the hallway.

"What are they doing?" You lean in and whisper.

"I don't fucking know?" He shrugs. "Maybe reading one of Fuy's books?"

"How cute." You chuckle, returning your attention to the project.

"Prez would never want a guy like me. I want to do better, but I'm fucking hopeless." The boys start, their footsteps running up and down the hallway this time.

"Natsuo! That's a bad word, you can't say that!" Shouto cries.

Your eyes widened and glanced over at Touya, whose face had now drained of color, jaw slightly gaped open.

He slams his laptop shut and frantically feels around under his pillow and covers, as if he had misplaced something.

"What're you looking for?" You asked, watching him rummage through his school bag after going through his bed.

"I'm going to fucking kill them." He mutters, throwing his bag on the floor. "I'm actually going to kill them."

He walks over to swing his bedroom door open, revealing the two boys leaning against the wall with a book in hand, flipping through the pages.

"Where the fuck did you two get that!?"

The two younger boys scream and scurry down the hall with Touya right on their tail. You follow them out into the hallway, watching them run a muck around the house.

Natsuo and Shouto eventually circle their way back to Touya's room, shoving themselves right behind you a second before Touya is able to get to them.

"Guys?" You look down at Shouto clutching your leg and Natsuo breathing hard, peering over your shoulder. "What did you two do?" You put a hand down on the top of Shouto's head, tapping it to get his attention up at you.

"Natsuo did it!" He cries, burying his face into your side. "I didn't do anything." He muffled into your shirt.

"You're the one who gave me his diary, you liar!" Natsuo reaches over and flicks Shouto's head. "Shouto did it!"

"What the hell is going on?" Fuyumi comes out of her room.

"These fuckers went through my things." Touya huffs, face now red. "Y/N. Move over please." He inches closer.

"No! Y/N please!" Natsuo cries behind you, clutching on you tighter.

"Whoooaa. Okay, okay let's relax everyone." You nervously chuckle.

"You, take a step back." You put a finger on Touya's chest, lightly pressing him to take a couple steps back into the hallways.

You noticed Touya clenching onto a journal so tight that his knuckles were white, jaw tense seething with anger.

"You two, go with your sister." You pried the two kids from your side, ushering them towards Fuyumi, in which she properly slapped the back of their heads the moment they got to her.

"Idiots. What did I tell you guys? Get in." She huffs before closing the door behind them.

"Don't think you're safe! Your ass is grass once Y/N leaves." He calls out before the door clicks shut.

"You, stop it. Come inside." You pull him in by the elbow.

"Jesus fucking christ." He groans into his hands, throwing the journal on his bed. "You didn't hear any of that, alright? None of that happened."

"Yup. You got it." You silently chuckle to yourself. "Absolutely nothing."

You watch him shove the journal deep into his school bag before throwing it back on the ground and flopping down in his bed, face buried in his pillow.

"FUCK!" He screams into his pillow, tightly gripping the sides of it.

"Okay let's just finish this shit and get it over with." He huffs, turning on his back and leaning up against the headboard, dragging his laptop back up to his lap.

"Oh so you really didn't wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" He shoots you a threatening glance.

You ignored the hostile look, anyways. "You have a crush on me." You bite your bottom lip to hide a side. "That's what that was, right?"

"Who said all that shit was about you, huh?"

"You got another 'Prez' in your life?" You cock an eyebrow.

He went silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath of air.

"Let's not do this right now."

"That's fine." You turn your attention back to your laptop. "I'm just saying, though, you don't have to do 'better' for me to like you. I already do."

Another beat of silence passes.

"Cool. Cool." He squeaks out. "Um. Can you double check my slides for me?" He coughs.

You looked at him in your peripheral to see him covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, hiding the impending blush creeping up his face as he kept his eyes glued to his screen.

"Sure." You smiled. "Only if you double check mine."

-

bonus scene hehe:

over the next week of school, touya had been actively avoiding you- which you expected. it wasn't until one late school day where you had to stay behind for your council meeting when you caught him waiting by your cubby.

"touya." you greeted, holding out your bag for him to take while you started switching your shoes out. "what are you still doing here?"

"got a request to deliver to you, prez." he responds with a smirk, leaning up against the cubbies with your bag under his arm.

"oh yeah? well unfortunate for you, but i'm off the clock. you should file it in the student council box."

"it's a special request that can only be delivered in person." he rolls his eyes. "also i'm walking you home, so you don't really have a choice."

you laugh, starting your way out of school. "okay, then. go for it."

"go out with me this weekend."

your breath hitches from surprise. you had to admit to yourself that you had been waiting for some sort of confession or at the very least a chat about the last time you had seen him, but for him to almost demand a date with you caught you off guard.

"really?" you snap your attention to him, face heating up.

"really."

"i'd love to." you smile. "you feel like talking about it now? or do i gotta go through your diary for that?"

"shut up. it's a journal- two very different things." he nudges you with his elbow. "fuyumi yelled at me after you left and told me that i was an emotionally constipated prick, so i guess that inspired me to get my shit together."

"sooo.." you motion for him to continue.

"sooo...i like you. i have for a while." he starts "and i got my marks up for this quarter. for you. well, technically for me, but i wanted you to see that i was trying."

your heart swelled at this simple act. "you didn't have to do that. i told you i like you regardless- even after you set the toilet on fire."

"we don't talk about that version of me last year." he laughs "and i wanted to. you made me want to do it for me."

you two continue to walk home chirping in conversation and light teases. you had always been drawn to him despite his bad habits and annoying mannerisms, but you knew he always had it in him to do good things and make better choices for himself. knowing that he did it because of his inspiration to be a good person for you only made you like him more.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Several therapeutic white boards were drawn on. Everyone reading was so good and normal about it. So were the characters, presumably.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Additionally: apologies to Adwen and Allmune on ao3, to whom I directly said I wouldn't do this; I lied. (Whoopsie).

Also additionally: Bonus fic snippet you may have missed

💚👻👽👻💚

“Are you hungry?” Danny’s new therapist asks, her fingers playing with her pen.

Danny shrugs.

Pretty quickly, they’d figured out that these sessions went…worse…when Danny was hungry. Hunger makes him upset. Being upset makes him want to speak less. Not talking ruins the whole affair.

“Want to talk?”

Danny shakes his head, and sprawls out onto the couch—he’s allowed to basically position himself however he feels comfortable in the room, and if he has a choice, he’d rather just hang out horizontal. Does it make getting back into his chair harder? Yes. Is there a lady with super strength right outside his the office door who is willing to pick him up at a moment’s notice? Also yes.

(It’s kind of silly, but, if his legs ever stop feeling so sore…Danny is. Well.)

(He’s kind of curious how tall he’d be if Diana held him piggyback.)

“Want to draw? Paint?”

Drawing is a high-stress activity. Danny tends to default to memories when he draws these days, and he’d rather not think about that right now. Finger-painting is another option, but it’s pretty messy…even if it would be fun…

Danny’s therapist (?) (he's pretty sure that’s what she is?) is a blonde woman, with a quiet face and piercing eyes. She’d probably be less intimidating if they knew each other’s language, if Danny’s being honest; usually these types of people try to talk their way out of being intimidating. Instead, Danny sits on her pinstripe couch in unbranded sweatpants and a thin white tee, and she wears a suitjacket over her tights.

It’s all very strange. It’s not more strange than his chaperone’s usual outfit of plate armor and tiara, but still.

“Want the language bócastréon again?”

…Danny hums in thought, hands crossed across his chest. He’s pretty sure they’ve tried building a thing that’ll detect his language, like, three different times by now, but every time it winds up like the Fenton Ghost Gabber: mindlessly repeating his words back to him, unable to make heads or tails on translation. At least these trials don’t end every one of his statements with I am a ghost, fear me.

Oh well. It’s better than nothing. Danny shrugs.

The therapist clicks the machine on from a switchpad at her elbow, and a blue holographic screen fills the air. Danny only spends a little bit of time batting at the display like a cat, watching the light play off his hands for his own amusement.

“Please begin,” the thing says, and the same text pops up on the screen.

“S’up,” Danny tells it, and grins when the little display starts its very, very, long, and very, very familiar, buffering process.

Danny already knows this isn’t going to work. He might as well have fun with it.

He talks about his day, he talks about his old bedroom; he talks about what he had for lunch, toying with one of the sucker-toys he woke up with ages ago even though he doesn’t know who gave them to him. He talks about his friends, because he loves them—not Tuck and Sam, who he’ll miss the rest of his life, but Mikey and Poindexter, and what school had been like for him. Quiet topics. Easy topics.

Normal topics.

…Danny isn’t’ sure he’ll ever have normalcy again, but…remembering it isn’t so bad either. He plays with his weird suction cup toy with both hands and he talks.

“…So I ended up getting stuck without the Speeder like a million zillion miles from the portal. I thought Jazz was going to kill me, since she needed it to take her girlfriend to prom the literal next night, so I had to run around for like forty minutes looking for someone to help me out— but at least Wulf was like ‘Ne estas problemo’ and he helped me sniff out the weird cheese Vlad had left in the center console of the Speeder the week before—“

The box beeps. “Lingvo identigita: Kryptonian.”

Danny bolts upright as fast as his limbs let him.

Danny was never as good as Tucker was with Esperanto, but—  But that’s Esperanto. Danny’s hung out with Wulf long enough, did enough Duodioma with the stupid little muppet bird mascot. The box didn’t call it the right thing, but—

—But—

The therapist looks at Danny, eyes wide. Danny can’t even look at her. He’s too busy staring at the discount-aisle Ghost Gabber.

“Diru ĝin denove,” Danny demands sharply. Say it again.

The screen automatically translates his words as he speaks—in Esperanto, and then into their own language, the two transcriptions populating side by side when Danny speaks.

At this point, the woman’s mouth is open. Danny would be right there with her, but—

Danny sits there, numb.

He has a language. A language that is mostly guesswork on his part and the occasional swears Wulf will teach him as a joke, but, still, a language.

A language made up by a doctor in Poland. In the eighteen…somethings. And these people with superpowers know it. And they know what it is.

And the therapist looks at him, stunned, with new eyes, as if she knows something new about him now.

…What the hell is Kryptonian?

*

There isn’t Kryptonian plural. Danny thought there there might be.

There isn’t.There is pretty much only one.

One. Singular. Kryptonian.

That feels worse, somehow.

*

Notes taken [DATE REDACTED] 2023, 22:37 UTC.

Participants are:

KE: Kal-El of Krypton, Codename: Superman. JD: Patient, John Doe, Codename: N/A. Patient file attached.

Note: Conversation was recorded in Kryptonian. Machine translation has been provided for convenience.

*Addendum: Yeah, I can get Jor-El on this, no problem –Supes

KE: This conversation will be recorded. Are you alright with that? JD: Conver…? KE: (Writing gesture) This talk. JD: Oh! Yes. KE: Good morning. My name is Kal-El, and I am of Kryptonian descent. On Earth, I serve as a protector. My title on Earth is Superman. JD: Superman? KE: Yes. JD: (Laugh) KE: Thank you. May I know your name? JD: (No answer) KE: Take your time. You may decline as well. JD: …I… (Pause). I do not… KE: That is alright. Do you have hobbies? JD: …What? KE: What do you like to do? JD: …I like to learn about space. I like to…when the fast child…we play games? KE: The fast kid? Impulse? JD: Impulse? (Incredulous) KE: That is his title, yes. JD: Why is his name Impulse? That is… Is that an insult? KE: I think he chose it? JD: (Stunned silence) KE: You like space? JD: Y…yes. KE: Tell me about it? JD: Do they not tell you about me? KE: I hear news. I have not met you face to face. JD: (Shrugs) KE: Not since you bit me, anyway? JD: I bit you? (Incredulous) KE: You were injured, and you were scared. I did not mind. JD: I am sorry! It was an accident! (Upset) I did not mean to! I do not remember— KE: It is alright, it is alright! (Placating) JD: (Cries) KE: Hey… (Touches shoulder) Oh, sorry. I should not do that. It is alright. My dog bit me yesterday, and my son bit me the day before. It is alright. You did not hurt me. JD: (Still crying, hard to decipher) You have a dog? KE: Yes! I have a dog! He is also from space. His name is Krypto. Here, I have pictures! (Takes out communicator)

*NOTE: pictures mentioned contain images of Superdog and Superboy(II)

JD: (Still crying) Are you supposed to ask me questions?? I have been here… I have been here for a long time. People want to know about what I am, and where am I from, and what I can do, yes? KE: Well…yes, but there is a lot of time. There is no limit. JD: (Wipes nose.) KE: All I am supposed to ask you today is if you have any allergies. See?

        *NOTE: List of potential allergens has been attached to patient file.

JD: (Takes list from KE) Allergi…? Oh. No. I am… No food makes me sick. I can eat all foods. I cannot take…there is a sick medicine. For a cough. I cannot take that. KE: Good to know! (Alarmed) I’ll tell your doctors. Do you like your doctors? JD: …Yes. (Shyly) They are nice. KE: Wonder Woman says that she already asked if you feel safe. Do you feel safe with your doctors? JD: I do. Everyone here is kind. I eat a lot. I get exercise. We play games. I take breaks. I see space. I do not worry here, unless I get scared by accident. KE: I am…very glad to hear that. (Chokes up.) My son is about half your height. If my son was far away, I would want someone to help him too. We only want to do our best for you, alright? Please tell us if something is wrong. JD: So I can fight? KE: Pardon? JD: I am meant to fight, right? KE: No, no—not fighting. Just healing. And resting. JD: And then after… I am supposed to fight? KE: No. No, not—you don’t have to fight. The only thing we need is for you to be healthy. We don’t need you to fight anyone. JD: Everyone wants me to fight. (Begins stimming with slime) There are many children here. They all fight. I am eventually going to have to fight. I know.

*NOTE: Slime was provided by Medical team for therapeutic use.

KE: (Pause) Who is everyone? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone make you fight, before? Is that why you were injured? JD: (Silence) KE: I am sorry if they did. That is not fair. You are not an adult yet, and even adults should not have to fight unless they enlist purposefully. You are a child. JD: No one thinks I am a child. KE: Who said that? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone hurt you? JD: (Pause) I do not want to talk. KE: Alright. Can you tell me why you do not want to talk? JD: (Silence) KE: Would you like to fight? JD: I am good at fighting. KE: That is not what I asked. JD: There is no choice? When there are bad things and bad people, someone has to fight. I am strong—when I am not injured, I am strong. I fight. There are people who are not strong, and cannot fight. I can fight. I fight. KE: (Silence) JD: This is why you are healing me. KE: (Pause) No, little one. That is not why. JD: (Pause) Oh. (Puts down slime) Am I…am I going to be data again? Are you going to test my body? KE: (Puts face into hands)

[PAGE 1 OF 4]

[Interview is to be reviewed by Black Canary and Dr. Pranathi Russo MD, Pediatric Psychologist.]

*

“It’s bad!” Clark says with a watery smile, because Clark isn’t Superman at the moment—in Bruce’s home office, as private as a place as the world can get, Bruce is only Bruce, and Clark is only Clark.

When Black Canary had suggested that their debrief happen somewhere private where Clark felt safe, Bruce had known that there would be bad news. Still, he pours a mug of coffee that Clark will metabolize all the caffeine out of anyway, and pours a long, thick cup of the stuff for himself, and settles back into his warm leather chair.

“Tell me,” Bruce says, not quite Batman, but not quite Bruce either.

“Bruce, he ‘knows’ we’re going to make him fight. He thinks we’re healing him to be a child soldier.” Clark’s laugh is half joke and half derision. Bruce thinks that he understands. “He thinks we’re keeping him here as—like property, where if we pick up something dumped on the side of the road, we can fix it back up and put it to work. Like an engine, or, or…or like a lawnmower. It’s awful.”

Bruce skips the creamer and goes straight to the Baileys beneath his desk for garnishing.

On the one hand, Dick has been flying out in Gotham since he was a preteen. There had been no question about training him; training was the way one kept their children safe, the same way that Alfred had taught Bruce how to shoot as a child—no matter how much Bruce had loathed it at the time.

On the other hand, Jason’s death plays out in his nightmares in technicolor around…once every few months.

The fires. The flames.

(The alien boy found in a wrecked vehicle outside the Kent farmhouse, curled up in fear.)

Bruce thinks about Damian, and how long it had taken for Damian to understand he could be loved as a child who loved animals, and not a future prince of Gotham.

…Bruce passes the Baileys to Clark.

The Kryptonian won’t absorb any of the alcohol in any meaningful way, but he dumps the remainder of the bottle into his coffee nevertheless.

[bambrinaa]

omg like ok imagine professor!rafe like distancing from her because he doesn’t want people to catch on and he’s trying to make them less suspicious. so he doesn’t fuck her for weeks and she starts getting horny desperate and decides to tease him but he continues to brush her advances off and she finally flirts with this guy in the class and rafe fucking looses it. tells her to stay after class and grabs her wrist and brings her back into his office, bends her over his lap, and forces her MINI skirt up (it’s so small it barely covers anything and that only pisses him off more) and spanks her so much she’s going to have marks for days. she ends up sobbing and tells him she just wanted daddy to notice her and he gets all soft on her, telling her he’s sorry, and he loves her, then he fucks her so good and they cuddle after…

LIKE…i can’t he’s actually so yummy 😋 🤤

a/n: this is actually such a scrummy request I got a lil wet mmm mmm mm delicious. love me some professor!rafe.

warnings: older!professor!rafe x younger!student!f!reader. spanking, slight spit kink?, rough handling before he gets all softie, manipulative themes, age gap relationship (all legal, she's 19–21, he's 30–35), possessive and jealous themes, daddy kink cuz he is lit daddy. People know..but like...they don't confront it...or acknowledge.

It wasn't very well hidden amongst the other students that there was something going on between you and Mr Cameron, but everyone, as if it was an unwritten rule, decided to not bring it up.

One, they were all a little scared of Rafe. Some say they've heard rumours of him killing a cop a few decades back, but it was just rumours.

Two, he was the only non wrinkled, slow talking, helpful teacher in the college. If he got fired and they all had to go back to teachers way past their teaching prime, they'd drop the class.

So, they ignored the tension between you, the fact you both coincidentally always show up with hickeys at the same time, and the lingering stares.

Besides, they had no hard evidence to confirm it, just suspicion.

But they hadn't seen any of that in a few weeks now. And God, you were desperate.

You tried touches that lasted a little too long, hidden meaning words, short skirts, no bra, and got nothing. Rafe was just ignoring you.

He felt wrong for doing this. You had your whole life, you shouldn't spend it hung up on some old guy. He was rude, grumpy, and distant. Everything he felt you didn't need.

That's exactly what you need.

But, if you couldn't get it from him, you'll get it elsewhere. You decided to wear an especially short skirt, practically a belt, and a little plain tube top. You're sat in Rafe's lesson, not staring at him for once, and actually looking at the board.

"Hey, do you have notes from last week?" You whispered to the guy next to you, smiling softly. You actually did have the notes, but you needed an excuse for a conversation.

He looked you up and down briefly, knowing the rumours between you and Rafe, but shrugged. He'd take the risk.

"Yeah, yeah, course." He smiled, leaning down to his bag and pulling them out. You scooted closer to him, reading them as he held them, quickly writing it down in your notepad.

"Ugh," you moaned, making extra effort to make it sound sinful enough to get the mans imagination going. "You're a lifesaver. Thank you." you gave him a sticky, lipglossy kiss on the cheek with a smile.

"Anytime, pretty girl." He smirked, licking his lips. You smiled back at him, batting your eyelashes like you would at Rafe.

Who was watching the entire time.

Just because he wasn't fucking you anymore, doesn't mean he'd ever stop staring at you. Watching the whole scene play out, simply wanting to snap the pen in his hand.

You noticed his stare, but didn't meet it. Just continued talking with the boy next to you, your hands lingering on his shoulder and bicep, giggling at his so not funny jokes — it was pitiful to watch you try and flirt with someone other than him. Just so you could have your needy cunt fucked for five minutes before the boy left.

Rafe looked at his watch, noticing his lesson was done. "Dismissed." He told everyone, all beginning to pack their bags and leave. Including you.

"You," He pointed towards you, making you freeze. "Stay."

You nodded softly, nonchalantly waving to the boy next to you with a smile. "Call me!" he chuckled, looking back at you before back at the piece of paper you handed him with your number, nodding to himself before he left.

When everyone was out the room, it was quiet. The only sound being Rafe wiping his whiteboard free of pen, and your thumping heartbeat.

You stepped out from your chair, carefully approaching him.

"What did you want?" You asked, tone flat. Or, at least, it tried to be. If he was going to act like nothing happened, so are you.

"Watch it," He hissed, putting the eraser down and walking to his desk, his palms flat on it. "That mouth of yours has already gotten you in trouble, don't make it worse."

"What have I done? You're the one who's been a dick for weeks!" You scoffed at him, and he stalked out from behind the desk towards you. He towered over you, but kept distance so that the cameras wouldn't catch anything to fire him over. He's already had a few close calls.

"My office. Now." He hissed lowly, and when you began walking slowly, his eyes followed shortly before his feet did. Luckily the camera in his office had been out of commission for a while.

You walked quietly to his office, keeping your head low as he trailed shortly behind you. You could feel his stare on you, all of you.

He wanted to rip his skin off at how short your skirt was, seeing the lace panties he bought you. For only his eyes. Now every fucker in these halls are seeing it.

He pushed the door shut and the sound of the lock clicking sent shivers down your spine. He sat down on the slightly uncomfortable couch in the corner of his office, and stared at you expectantly.

"What?" You crossed your arms, testing the waters to see how long you can stand your ground.

"Come here. Now."

Turns out, not long.

You walked over to him slowly, sitting next to him, which made him sigh.

Grabbing your upper arm and yanking you over his lap, you yelped quietly, not wanting anyone outside to hear.

Your tummy was on his thighs, his hands rubbing soothing strokes on the backs of your legs.

"You want to tell me why you were talking to that boy?" He asked softly, but you knew it was a ruse, you had been punished enough to know what it starts out like.

"None of your fucking business."

Never stopped you from being bratty, though.

He hummed calmly, pulling up your tiny skirt, hardly needing to pull much. He fixed your panties for you, making sure they were nicely splayed against your plush cheeks before delivering a sharp hit to it, the redness immediately rising.

You gasped, burying your face into the couch cushion. Don't want to disturb the passers-by, now do we?

"Want to try that again?" He asked you, gently moving his finger over the red welt.

"B–Because I needed notes.."

Crack!

"Ow! That's the truth!" You whimpered, and he tutted.

"I saw you taking notes all of my last lesson. You always have the notes. Again." He gently pulled your panties higher, making it easier to see the wet patch forming.

"U–uhm.." You mumbled, feeling yourself get emotional. It's been so long since you were in his arms, and now that you are, it's because he's punishing you.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

You cried quietly, and he just tutted and scoffed.

"Don't fucking cry, you — you brought this upon yourself when you started talking to that boy." He grumbled, delivering several more sharp spanks to your already red ass, making you muffle sobs into his leg.

"That's not fair!" you cried, and he gave you four more, two on your ass, the other two on the backs of your thighs.

"More than fair, and you know it." He flipped you over, yanking your panties down your thighs and tossing them somewhere in his office.

You wriggled, your nose scrunching as you sniffled.

"No! M'sorry! Won't do it again." You tried to sit up but he pushed you back down, spreading your legs.

He gave small, but mean slaps onto your puffy clit, your slick sticking to his fingers as he slapped your pussy.

You mewled, looking up at him with tears in your eyes and sniffling. His other hand went to your thighs, slapping you there too. He wanted to leave handprints where people would see. And they'd see them very well with the skirts you wear.

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked, slapping your thigh again.

You nodded quickly.

"Hm...I don't think you have." he mumbled, lifting your body to go back to spanking your plush ass.

"I'm sorry! Just wanted you to notice, daddy." You cried, and his moments paused. "J–Just wanted you to...to touch me again, m'sorry daddy."

Well, now he felt bad.

"That so?" He asked, barely even above a whisper, bringing you to sit on his lap, facing him instead.

"Uh huh. You haven't even looked at me for weeks, or spoken to me!" You hiccuped, looking at him with big eyes and large tears sitting on your waterline.

His face softened, as did his touch. He gently wrapped his hands around your hips.

"I'm sorry, baby...I didn't realise it upset you so much. I only did it because another teacher asked me about you." He cooed, letting you tuck your head under his chin, nuzzling his neck.

"Could've told me instead of ignoring me..." You whispered against his skin and he could feel your soft lips brushing against him.

"Couldn't be seen with you for a while outside of class, and they check emails." He explained, rubbing over your sore, bruised ass. He felt bad. Sort of.

"Who was the guy?" He asked, gently kissing your temple.

"Ben something."

He'd remember that name to fail him on every assignment for the next six months.

"Y'know you're my girl, right? No one can take care of you like I can." He whispered against your forehead before kissing it, and you nodded softly.

"No one else gets to touch you like me, understand? No one can make you feel as good as I do." He kissed along your cheek, lifting you up gently to kiss your jaw.

You whimpered softly, pawing at his chest as he kissed you and whispered reassurances. What you took as reassurances.

"No one protects you like I do, hm? They don't make you feel safe. I do." He began pulling off your skirt as he led your back onto the dingy couch.

You nodded along to whatever he was say, dumbly agreeing with everything he was saying. They didn't know you like he like did. Didn't fuck you like he did. Didn't treat you like he did.

They'll never be him.

"No fratboy dick can make you cum six times." He scoffed as he brought your legs up, his nose nudging your ankle before he kissed it, then began lowering your knees to your chest.

"And they definitely can't make this greedy cunt as wet as I do." He smirked to himself, running a gentle finger over your puffy clit, humming at the way it glided over with ease.

You whimpered, hips jolting at the slight stimulation.

"Please, daddy.." you cried, keeping your hands on your own legs, keeping your knees firmly against your chest, giving him the best view.

"I'm gettin' to it, let me take my time, sweet girl." He murmured, his hand going to his belt, undoing it quickly and letting it drop to the floor. He pulled his slacks down just enough to grip his cock at the base and pull it out.

He reached the hand over to your chin, tapping it roughly.

"Spit." He stared at you as the spit dribbled from your pouty lips, down your chin, and onto his hand.

He brought that hand back to his dick, using your saliva as lube and giving himself a few mean strokes, his breath hitching.

"You gonna be a good girl for me?" He asked, leaning forward to line himself up. You nodded quickly.

"F'course, daddy."

He slapped his tip against your clit, making you huff.

"Say it." He warned, taking your legs away from your chest and wrapping them around his hips instead.

"M'gonna be a good girl, daddy." you whispered oh so pitifully, and he smiled.

"There's my girl." He slowly began pushing into your tight hole. No matter how many times you fuck, you never adjust.

You whine quietly, squeezing your eyes shut as you clawed at his arm. He had the girth and the length, and despite it being the best dick you've ever had, it was still a struggle.

He watched your tight cunt stretch to accommodate him as he slowly bottomed out inside you. You whimpered, and he nodded.

"I know, baby, I know. Just a few more seconds and you'll feel so good...just relax baby." He cooed, kissing your nose, cheek, and lips gently.

You untensed your muscles, feeling the slight sting of pain fade away, your cunt fluttering and clenching around him.

"Y'can move now, daddy." You whispered into the kiss, and he took a cautious glance at your face to see if you were lying, which you've done before.

"Okay, princess." He slowly slid himself out before he slammed back in, deep but slow strokes, making you hiccup and whimper with every one.

He kissed down your neck and collar bone, grabbing your shirt and ripping it before he kissed over the valley of your breasts.

He looked up at you, seeing your scrunched up face and parted lips. God, you looked so pretty whilst he fucked you.

He kissed his way back up, burying his face into your neck as his arms wrapped around your waist.

"Fuck — best pussy I've ever had, y'know that?" He groaned, speeding up his thrusts, making you bite his shoulder to resist a cry.

You scratched at his back, keeping your legs tight around his waist as he pounded into you, strokes deep and fast, making your head spin.

The sounds of your cunt and skin slapping filled the room, his pelvis nudging your puffy clit occasionally. You moaned and whined, writhing beneath him.

He groaned and grunted into your neck, his moans mixing with yours as you felt the coil twist tighter in your abdomen.

"M'close, daddy.." you whimpered, and he nodded, trailing a hand down to circle his thumb over your clit.

"Cum for daddy, baby. C'mon." He cooed, feeling himself grow closer as he felt your soft cunt squeezing and fluttering around him rapidly.

"O–Oh! Oh!" You whined in his ear, your legs shaking as your orgasm ripped through you, coating his dick and pelvis. He chuckled quietly before he kissed your shoulder, ramming into you to chase his own high.

You squeaked and squealed, but stayed still, knowing that he'd get upset if you made him lose his rhythm.

He panted in your ear, grumbling a quiet. "Fuckin' love you — and this pussy, fuck." before his orgasm met him, his hips stopping as he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, letting out a low growl like sound as he came, filling your pussy to the brim.

He stayed there for a moment to let both of you catch your breaths before he slowly pulled out, muttering a quiet apology as you whimpered, and began cleaning you up with some tissues.

He dressed you and himself again, but didn't want you to leave. So, he wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, pulling you tighter on his lap and resting his head against yours.

"Did you mean it?" You asked quietly, fiddling with a button on his shirt. He knew what you were referring to. His little slip up.

"Yeah..I did." He mumbled, pushing down the guilt that replaced the euphoria in his abdomen.

"I love you too." You kissed his shoulder.

Thank god his office was almost completely soundproof.

Almost.

© WEBDOLLZZ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[spencahreadreid]

Wasteland baby! I'm in love, I'm in love with you.

3.0K words, purely fluffy and innocent, mentions Halloween, no Y/N, no gender specifics! If you have requests, please send them!

"That's not how it goes!" Spencer's voice calls from the kitchen, you were in the living room, setting up the fake spider webs for tonight's Halloween party. The Alexa you'd recently brought (which terrifies Spencer) is playing whatever the Amazon AI thinks are "Spooky songs", and you'd been shouting all the wrong lyrics. Loud and proud.

"What?! I can't hear youuu!" The sing-song tone in your voice made him laugh, the kind of airy chuckle that faded in through the doorway, to your ears. The living room was mostly empty, having cleared out most of Spencers books from the shelves and replaced them with fake bats, spiders, plastic severed arms.

He didn't mind it, he loved Halloween himself, but it's not until he met you that he started going all out. His apartment now looked like the local decor store around October time, and you both absolutely love when you get to go 'crazy'.

The cobwebs were now fully hung up around the ceiling, at first you'd begged Spencer to do it, he's taller after all. That's when he'd suggested he start on the cooking instead, not three nights ago, you'd set fire to a pancake. You blamed it on Spencer of course, he was insane for coming and kissing you (being a pure distraction) while you were trying to make breakfast.

With most of the decorations put up, you decided to sneak into the kitchen, behind your boyfriend and scare him somehow. Creeping in through the doorway, you used the music as a coverup for your footsteps, walking along to the beat so it sounded like some kind of special effect.

Arms out, ready to pounce on the innocent man by the oven, who was putting on your oven mitts. Before you could even say or do anything, the doorbell rang, which made Spencer turn, and there you were. Standing there with your hands above your head, scrunched up facial expression, solely to add to the scare. It had failed.

"Honey, what are you doing...?" He looked genuinely confused, tilting his head. You'd quickly relaxed your face and placed your arms back by your sides with a sheepish smile. The two of you awkwardly stood there, Spencer looking extremely confused, until you found a cause to leave.

"Uh... I'm gonna go get the door" without another word, you were gone. Straight through the living room, down the hall and into the porch. The screen door was translucent, and through it, you could see a small blonde woman. Immediately smiling, you swung the glass frame open with an eagerness.

"PEN!! How are you?!" Welcoming her with open arms, you were careful not to smudge the black, painted whiskers on her face. She smiled back, you didn't work at the BAU, but you'd met Penelope before. Apparently Spencer had gotten teased at work by her continuously until you found out and gave her a joking telling off.

"Where's boy-genius? I have presents!" She squeaked, handing you a small pink gift bag.

You thanked her and led her to the kitchen, where Spencer was placing the food onto a tray, so the others could help themselves later. His lips curved up as soon as he saw you, walking over and letting his lips press to your forehead, then your cheek, tip of your nose, and your lips. Yes, he greeted his co-worker, but you were more important at this moment. Penelope had already started giggling, and as she was about to take her phone out for a picture, you both pulled away from the kiss.

"You two are adorable!" She still tried taking a slip, but it wasn't as blackmail worthy now your lips had come out of contact.. to your dismay. The slight pouting from you had Spencer laughing, then followed Penelope's, soon enough your own.

"It's okay, precious.." His hand coming to your chin, cupping it softly, you stared up at him. Your eyes were wide, his eyes were just as soft and affectionate.

'CLICK '

Both your heads snapped to Penelope, her phone held up infront of her face, she'd clearly already taken the picture.

"Garcia!" Spencer called to her as he realised what she'd done, but all she responded with, in her usual cheery voice was:

"You can hang it up on your wedding day!"

[gurugirl]

The Con Artist | Part 1*

Summary: You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you he finds it difficult to resist your charms.

A/n: This is detective!harry x crimina!reader / y/n | This will be a short series (3-7? parts). The Con Artist Masterlist

6.7k words

Warning: Criminal activity detailed (drugging, stealing, conning), smut (oral sex)

◈ ◈ ◈

The first time you remember stealing anything was when you were about three years old. From what you recall, you were with your mother at a dollar store of some sort. On the bottom shelf in one of the aisles was a pretty mirrored compact. It snapped close with a satisfying click and opened up easily for your three-year-old hands and so you put it into your mother’s purse as she was bringing you out of the store.

Being three years old, though, you forgot all about the mirrored compact when she surprised you with a toy she bought for you. The next day she came across the stolen item and somehow, she knew you’d done it. Because maybe there had been some sort of pattern. You just can’t remember stealing before that day.

But then you started stealing clothes from the mall when you were older. Lip balm (you became fond of the Chanel lip balm in Light but frequently settled for a Lancôme or Clinique as they were usually easier to snatch up), candles (the expensive ones to make it worth your while), pens, and lighters. You stole anything small enough to be taken without anyone noticing.

The only time you ever got caught was when your mom found the mirrored case in her purse when you were three. Even now, 23 years later. Here you are, stealing for a living. The man lying on the bed you are standing next to is knocked out cold. You may or may not have slipped him a little something to send him off to sleepy time before he could take his pants off, but that was the game. He wanted something and so did you.

Yours was a simple grift. Straight men are easy. All you have to do is hang out in really nice clubs and bars near the nice neighborhoods. Dress a certain way. Talk a certain way. Compliment the man. Compliment him some more. Laugh at his attempt at flirting and play dumb. Definitely laugh at his jokes. Act dumb. Sit alone. Bat your lashes. That kind of bullshit.

The man would need to be rich, or if not rich, showy and cocky (because how fucking annoying is a showy cocky asshole with nothing to actually show for it?). You typically looked for a nice watch (Rolex is easy to spot, but the really expensive watches are Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe). He’d need to be a little drunk. Or even desperate is fine. Sometimes drunk isn’t necessary. You just need to get him to take you to his home. Never to yours. Married men would suggest a hotel. And that could work too, under the right circumstances. And married men were special because they’d never report you.

Then, once you’re in his house you suggest a nightcap, a drink for your nerves you say (a lie because you don’t drink alcohol) and insist on making them yourself. Drop in enough crushed benzos and voila. The man thinks he’s about to get laid but he falls asleep fast and you steal his cash and his jewelry. And sometimes a few other things you can take with you on your way out the door.

Tonight’s meal is a married man but his wife is out of town. The “house” is in Hope Ranch but it’s more like a mansion. It’s massive and the guy is loaded. That’s all you care about.

You served him a gin and tonic with a lime wedge and 10 mg of crushed-up benzos. You poured yourself a tonic and chucked a lime in for good measure, so it looked like you were drinking too.

He brought you to his room after drinking his glass of nighty-night juice and you could tell it was taking effect. He fell asleep almost too quickly. But who were you to complain? His wallet was lying on the coffee table and his Rolex was an easy snag. You were out the door in less than an hour. He only had about $50 cash in his wallet but the Rolex would be worth around nine thousand dollars for you. You loved the dumbasses with the expensive watches the most. Rolexes are a dime a dozen. They’re the easiest to come by and the easiest to get rid of.

By the time you get back to your little studio, it’s past 3 am. You don’t live in the best part of LA but it’s also not bad. Koreatown has its moments. The supposedly haunted Gaylord Apartments studio has been your home for the last two years. You truly could afford something nicer but it’s hard to imagine paying more than you already do for rent. It’s a waste of money really. You’re living fine and saving your cash. You don’t want to be a thief all your life. Just for long enough to save up so you can go anywhere you want, buy a house for cash, and live out your days as an old maid who never found love. Because love seems like a pipe dream at this point.

Men suck. But then again, you’re not really much of a catch yourself. So ending up alone is probably your true calling. You’ll buy a bunch of books, get a few cats, maybe grow a garden and wear robes all day long. Drink cold juice and watch murder mysteries at night with your cats all curled up around you, and fall asleep on your couch because sleeping alone in your bed just sounds depressing. And maybe you’ll do some traveling. Who knows? You’ve amassed a decent amount of money. You’ve given yourself until 30 and then you’ll call it quits. Just a few more years.

At the Gaylord, you’re not allowed to have pets, but you can have fish. You crouch down to look into your aquarium and see that Buster and Barry are fine. They usually are. They’re pea puffers. Kind of cute really. But Buster killed his first mate, Brenda.  When you introduced Barry, Buster left him alone. Buster and Barry don’t usually interact which is why they get along. You had no idea that puffers could tend to be aggressive but when Brenda was found belly up in the 10-gallon tank one Thursday evening after you’d secured a nice Saint Laurent coat and a Royal Oak Piguet, you were quite disappointed. You’d had such a good night too. The Royal Oak was worth close to $60 thousand. And the coat was just an extra on your way out the door. But poor Brenda. Dead in a day.

You turned off their fish tank light, “Goodnight boys.”

At night, when you were alone in your bed you’d think about the things you’d done. You never really found guilt anytime you thought back. You did feel like what you were doing was wrong, though. You knew that much, you just didn’t feel that bad about any of it, though. You’d made yourself a nice small fortune and you did it doing something you loved. Why did you love stealing from unsuspecting idiot men?

Who knows?

You had a mostly-typical upbringing. Your mom and dad split when you were five and you saw your dad every other weekend like most of your friends with their dads.

Your mom was a good mom. She took care of you. Loved you. Protected you. Encouraged you.

You didn’t have an unusual childhood. Others who had it far worse turned out normal. You had no excuse. No trauma to point at. No mental health problems ran in the family. No vendetta against men. Nothing to prove.

You just liked it. There was a thrill that came with it. And the better you got at it, the more fun it was. And you loathed the idea of working a regular job somewhere earning a living wage. A living wage. What a joke. You were earning like a CEO and not once did you ever have to put out for anyone you didn’t want to. Everything was on your terms.

You could sleep in as late as you wanted. Skip a day of work if you chose, never needing to call anyone to tell them you were taking a sick day. You could do two in one day if you were on a roll. Or you could abandon ship if the man you started chatting up turned out to be someone you could actually see yourself fucking. Because you did draw the line there.

If you started to become interested in the guy, or he was attractive enough, and he invited you back to his place you would have a choice to make. You could stay the course, drug him, and then steal his watch and his money or you could just have a fun night with an attractive man at his place. You wouldn’t steal from someone you’d slept with. You had some moral boundaries.

You were nice, though. You weren’t like a bitch to anyone. But I guess ask any of the men you’d stolen from and they’d have a different mind about that. You had a small handful of friends. You didn’t like letting people get too close, though. For good reason. Because when you got close it became harder to hide your dark secret. People always asked what you did for a living. What an intrusive question to ask anyone. You always made up some lie about working online and inputting data for a medical corporation. Something that pointed to you making just enough money that would explain your nice clothes and expensive purses, but also that would have you home during the day.

Your best friend, Raechel knows your secret. Probably your mom as well. Also, Josh who buys your stolen goods but that’s a different story. But that’s it. In the whole wide world, you have one person that you’ve told directly what you do (again, not counting Josh). Because you couldn’t hide it anymore. And Raechel is still around. She’s your best friend. Now your mom, well, you never told her but she knows. She’s not dumb.

Bright and early the next morning, if you can consider 11:30 am bright and early, you headed to your dealer slash fence man, Josh, after shooting him a message that you were on your way.

You had with you the white dial Rolex Daytona you took off of whatever his name was the night before. Now, this watch is worth about $20,000 but Josh would take a big cut of the profit because he was the one going and selling the stolen item, he needed to make money from the deal too. Plus whoever he sold it to wouldn’t pay him the full $20,000 either, because they also needed to make a profit.

You met him in your usual spot. He took a look at the jewelry and searched for the model reference number to make sure of its value. Then you left with $8,500 in cash and a quarter ounce of Girl Scout Cookies (that’s a nice strain of marijuana bud to clarify).

The bank wouldn’t take big ass deposits like that at a time or there’d be some kind of flag on your account and it would get reported to the IRS (protocol), so you generally would only deposit $3,000 at a time. Which also meant you had a large stash of cash in your apartment at all times. You tried to space out the deposits. Had multiple bank accounts at different banks, and went to different branches in different locations but cash was difficult to work with at times. It was the only part of the job you hated. Dealing with all that cash. Especially when you preferred to save most of it. You usually bought yourself nice things, but most of your money you didn’t touch. You were serious about your future plan of buying a house for cash and getting lots of cats.

Tonight you planned on going to the Warwick again. The last time you were there was six months ago. You’d gotten a big hit with a B-list celebrity and you didn’t want to show your face around there for a while just in case he found you there or anyone recognized you somehow. Six months seemed like a good amount of time to wait.

You stopped at your favorite café and picked up a latte and scone to go. Then you walked to Liberty Park to drink and eat your breakfast slash lunch in the sunshine.

You wondered who would be at the club tonight. The Warwick was usually crawling with celebrities (lots of money). You knew how to handle them all. It really didn’t take much though. Look cute, act dumb. Usually. There were a few times you’d encountered a celebrity or wealthy man who was looking for someone with substance, but that wasn’t what you were going for. You searched for the ones who wanted one fun night and nothing more.

You were sitting on the concrete ledge near the sculpture and sipping your hot latte when a shadow appeared blocking the sun from your body. You looked up to see a tall man looking down at you. Instantly you sat up straight. He was very attractive.

“Hi… I was hoping you could point me in the direction of The Ritz Carlton. I seem to be lost…” he looked at his cell phone and then held its screen to your face and you laughed, placing your latte down next to you.

You stood up and smiled and noticed he didn’t have a watch on his wrist (old habit), “You’re definitely lost. The nearest Ritz is gonna be like a 45-minute walk from here. It’s that way,” you pointed in the direction of the 110, though it couldn’t be seen from where you were.

“Fuck. Well, thank you, I guess. I’m new here and went for a walk and found myself enjoying the sun and now here I am. Lost puppy in a big city.”

The man had thick, dark hair, seafoam green eyes with a dark green limbal ring, richly pigmented lips, and a jawline that could cut rock. And he was British. Clearly from out of town.

You held out your hand and introduced yourself and he quickly wrapped his big paw around yours and you saw the tattoo on his wrist. His clothes didn’t indicate that he was well-off. But sometimes it was hard to tell. Some rich guys didn’t give a fuck. This one didn’t. If he was, in fact, wealthy.

“Harry. Nice to meet you. S’hard finding a friendly face in a new city. Do you live here?”

“I do. Not far from here. What are you in town for, Harry?” You asked, keeping eye contact. You didn’t know if you should size him up for a job or see if you could get him to take you back to his hotel for a fuck. This guy looked like he could fuck. Tall and broad, deep voice, and big hands. A dimpled smile.

“Ahh, just work. Plan to be here for about a month. Staying at The Ritz off Olympic while I’m in town,” he smirked at you and that was all you needed to hear to know he was interested. Yeah, you’d fuck him.

“Is that so? For a month huh? Here, let me give you my number, ya know, in case you need anyone to show you around. A friendly face like you said…” you gestured toward his phone so you could put your number in and he unlocked it and opened up his messages app.

You were bold. You had no problem picking up a guy to fuck. You just needed to be somewhat straightforward. Your jobs were different. Playing coy was the game when they wanted to feel like they were in charge. But when it came to actually fucking someone, you were in charge and you wanted them to know it.

“Seems quite forward to give your number to a complete stranger, Y/n,” he spoke your name, wrapping his lips around the vowels in the most sensual way. That mouth of his could do some damage. You swallowed.

You laughed and shrugged, “Not really. It’s just a number. Now, what you do with it is up to you. If you’re bold, you’ll use it.”

Harry grinned at you and the way you nearly let your knees buckle when you saw his dimples was not a normal reaction. But Harry was gorgeous. You'd let him fuck you if he was into it. Absolutely. This man could get it from the top to the bottom. He was well-muscled and sturdy under his clothes. Something told you he’d have a big dick too and you’d love to let him use it on you.

You shook yourself of your thoughts and Harry cleared his throat, “Well, thank you. I’ll certainly consider calling you,” he lifted his cell phone upward as he spoke.

You were a little disappointed by his remark. Consider calling you? What the fuck? Maybe he wasn’t straight. Would explain why you found him attractive. All the hot ones were some shade of gay. But he was flirting with you... Wasn’t he?

Harry waved as he walked off and you sat back down to finish your latte and dry scone.

◈ ◈ ◈

You got yourself dolled up and tried to erase the way you were feeling annoyed that Harry hadn’t messaged you or called you. You gave him your number. You were rarely rejected. Unless he was gay… You laughed at yourself as you sprayed your hair to hold the style and then looked at your phone again. It was 9 pm. The perfect time to show up at the Warwick. It was time to work.

You were let in with no problem, despite the long line to get in. No cover for you. You got yourself a soda water with lemon and sauntered around the perimeter. Lots of groups tonight. Some of the guys watched you walk by. But you were specific. Precise about the men you worked. The young ones in the groups were probably spending more than they could afford to be there. Not your type. You moved along the lower room until you spotted a group of men sitting together. Now, these guys were job material. Men with money.

You neared them slowly, sipping your soda water until one of them looked up and saw you. You smiled at him and kept walking until you found a place to sit where you could be in the sight line of the man with whom you smiled. He had his eyes on you alright.

You’d give it ten minutes before heading their way. Just to see if he’d come to you first. Just to see if he was into feeling like he had the upper hand. Sometimes older men preferred more traditional roles and liked to be the aggressor. Oh, little did they know…

You swung your left leg over your right one, letting your dress ride up your thigh so he could see what you were working with. You smiled at him again and then looked away, pretending to be caught in the act.

But then suddenly someone sat down next to you, catching you off guard. You jerked your neck toward the intruder (this was not uncommon), ready to tell him to buzz off when you were met with the warm smile of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Your look of disdain quickly turned to one of excitement and you couldn’t help the smile that crawled over your face at the sight of Harry. He was in a suit; his hair was styled just so with a thick curl falling over his forehead. He had rings on his fingers and he looked like he’d been drinking a little with dazed-out eyes on yours.

“Y/n. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his gaze dropped down to your dress and your thigh and then back up to your face.

You mimicked his display, dragging your eyes down his frame and back up to his handsome face, “It’s been a while since I’ve been out. Felt like a good night to have some fun.”

The man you’d scoped, was long forgotten as you and Harry began to chat. He was alone at Warwick. Like you. And he was hot. He was clearly a bit tipsy with the way he was so loose with touching your arm and your hand, the way he’d pause his eyes at your lips as you spoke.

The thing that really got you worked up was how he’d lean in to speak into your ear so you could hear him. It was necessary to do because the club was so loud, but you fucking loved having him so close you could smell him and feel his voice vibrating off your ear.

“You look amazing,” he said as he plucked at the hem of your short dress, his fingers brushing against the skin on your thigh as he did so. Probably on purpose. Definitely on purpose.

You decided he’d be worth the work raincheck. You’d let him fuck you. And it seemed like that’s just what he wanted when his eyes settled on yours and he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked. You were a-okay with abandoning ship for a hot night with Harry. Work could wait. This man before you, flirting with you and watching your lips as you spoke was ripe for the taking. You didn’t want to miss the chance to try him out in the sack.

Just like he said, the taxi stopped at The Ritz-Carlton on Olympic and he took you up to his room. In the taxi on the way to his hotel, he scooped his arm behind your back and pulled you into his side, brushed your hair from your neck, and put his mouth next to your ear, “You sure you want to do this?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Yeah, that happened. That never happens. Not to you. You were the one making men’s breath hitch. But Harry had some kind of natural charm about him that matched your own energy. A panty-dropper. But it helped that he was so goddamn fine with a deep British accent and dazzling eyes.

The room didn’t appear to have been slept in, but that’s probably due to the strict housekeeping staff taking care to clean up behind their guests.

You kicked your heels off near the door and Harry walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your front. He kissed your neck first. You were admittedly caught off guard by his energy. He was quite forward and confident.

You leaned your head to the side and smiled when you felt him in your back, poking you with what you knew was going to be a big cock. He was already very turned on.

You turned in his arms to face him and slid your hands up to his shoulders and kept your eyes on his, “I don’t usually do things like this…” you spoke innocently.

Harry tilted his head to the side and smirked. The look on his face said he didn’t believe you, “Me neither.” You certainly didn’t believe him.

You lifted yourself upward on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. You had had enough of the back and forth. It was time to get down to it. Harry’s cock was hard and your panties were wet. That’s all that was necessary at that moment. Talk could wait.

Harry gripped your waist and walked you backward to his bed with his mouth attached to yours. You let go of his shoulders and slid yourself back onto the bed as he crawled after you. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down to you, lips locking together in haste.

Putting your leg over his hip you bucked yourself upward to feel his hard-on under his pants and you moaned at the bulk of him.

“Get your pants off, Harry,” you cooed as you palmed over him. Harry sat back and removed his shirt and there was nothing in you that was disappointed by what you saw. More dark tattoos covering his chest and his arms. His body was masculine and sculpted exactly to your preference. Firm with smooth skin and a smattering of hair at his pecs and under his belly button.

You moved your arms behind your back and unzipped your dress and let it fall down your arms. You were wearing a special bra that was sticky on your breasts, which you’d forgotten about until that moment. It was difficult to remove in one quick go because the sticky inside was super sticky so it stayed put. You sat up and turned away from him as he began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants.

Pulling the bra away from your skin slowly you looked over your shoulder and Harry was looking at you with his brows scrunched in confusion. You laughed and when you’d removed the bra lifted it upward so he could see, “It’s a sticky bra and it’s awkward to take off. Didn’t want you to see it coming off. It’s less magical that way.”

Harry spit out a laugh as he visually inspected the bra and he nodded, “Okay. If you say so,” taking the bra from your hand and tossing it on the bed. Harry was only in black briefs when he put his hands up to cup your jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. He pushed you back into the bed with his lips smoothing against yours and he settled himself in between your legs. You were left in only your nude thong. Harry’s briefs-covered cock was pressed right over your pussy. He was thick. You knew he was something special down there. He rocked down over you and licked into your mouth. His solid arms kept his torso held up while his hips were pressed down over you.

You bent your right leg at the knee and spread a bit for him to access you better and he moaned.

“You’re getting me wet even through your underwear. Need something, Y/n?” His cocky smirk was warranted. You hated a cocky man but Harry had every reason to be. He was delectable.

“I need you, Harry. S’why I’m here right now,” you spoke in your sultriest voice and licked at the seam of his lips. Harry brought his mouth down slowly, his warm lips pecking and licking a cherished path down toward your breasts. He palmed and sucked at them. You arched your back and panted. He wasn’t going easy on your nipples as he pulled each into his mouth and swirled his tongue around your areola. His nips caused you to moan loudly into the room.

He moved his head further down and you knew what was coming. But in all honesty, you hadn’t shaved in a while. You were full-on bush down there. You didn’t expect to be getting laid tonight. You were on a job when you saw Harry at the club. You got all dolled up, shaved your legs, and did what needed to be done. But no more than what was necessary.

When he got to your hips you braced yourself for him to see your pussy in its natural state. He put his fingers into the band at your hips and looked up at you as he slid them down slowly. You craned your neck up to see what his expression was when he finally took you in.

He saw your bush. You saw him pause at your pussy but he continued dragging your panties downward. You held your breath when he put himself back between your legs and lowered his face to your inner thigh, planting a hot kiss very close to the curve of where your ass and your cunt met.

“Can I?” He looked up at you, his mouth parted in lust. You weren’t going to say no to head. If he wanted to get down there with your wild garden of desire and wrap his mouth around your clit you’d let him.

“Yes,” you smiled but felt yourself blush a little at the idea of being munched on while you’re pussy-scaping was nonexistent.

But he didn’t seem to care at all. He put his lips over your mound and went to town. Like all the way into town and back home again, then back to the strip so he could have dinner and seconds. He found all the parts that needed to be found under your pubic hair. You settled yourself back into the pillow and relaxed. Harry was a man who liked pussy clearly. He wasn’t deterred by the bush one bit.

Your clit was being given sufficient attention when he began to use his fingers in your crease, softly stroking you up and down until he placed his middle finger right at your hole. He prodded it in a bit and you looked down at him between your thighs. He had his eyes closed, his tongue lapping at you then you watched as his lips found your clit and he pulled at it, sucking you into his mouth and you gasped. He was good. This man was hot and he was good at giving head?

“Fuck, Harry! Right there…” you moaned your words, needing to let him know to keep up with what he was doing. He was going to get you off fast this way.

Harry moaned into your pussy and opened his eyes when he heard you and he nuzzled in further, shaking his head left to right quickly and slurping your clit just as he inserted a second finger. You felt it go in. Harry’s fingers were long and he was getting the job done nicely.

You arched your back at the distinct feeling of heat traveling from your groin outward. You slid one of your hands down and placed your fingers into his thick hair. Something you’d wanted to do since you first saw him earlier in the day. You just had no idea it would be happening while he was expertly eating you out in his hotel room at the Ritz.

You bucked upward toward him and panted, “I’m gonna come, Harry… please….” Your voice was shaky and your orgasm was beginning to blossom. Harry was making a mess of his face with your arousal as he dug in further, one hand holding you down while his other kept his fingers stroking your walls just like you needed.

The snap fuzzed up your hearing for a moment. Your ears rang as you came in his mouth, your body stiffening and jolting with each stroke of his tongue. You were sure you were speaking but your mouth and your brain didn’t meet up as you quivered under the man who was lapping at your pussy like there was no hair in the way.

You opened your eyes when Harry kissed both sides of your hips and sat back. He looked down at you with a grin as your chest was rising and falling quickly, “Holy shit. That was the fastest I’ve ever come from… that.”

Harry chuckled and got off the bed. He walked toward the dresser and you could see his hard cock pressing against the front of his dark briefs. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of water and brought them to the bed. Pouring a glass for himself and for you. He sat down next to you as you sat up and handed you the glass, which you happily guzzled down. Harry did the same. You hoped he wasn’t washing away the taste of your hairy pussy. That would be embarrassing.

“Sorry. About the lack of trimming. I really didn’t expect to show anyone the goods tonight,” you laughed. It was so ridiculous for you to be apologizing for that. It was natural for most women to have hair on their crotch. Just like it was for men. You weren’t sure why you were apologizing. Maybe it was because Harry was so incredibly attractive.

Harry’s brows pinched together and he frowned, “Really? I mean, I don’t care about the hair, but you weren’t thinking you were gonna laid tonight? Looking like that?”

You shook your head, “No. Truly.”

“Well, you have a beautiful pussy. I doubt anyone would ever kick you out of bed for going au natural. Doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to brush the back of your hand over his cock, “What about you? Do your trim?” You smirked.

Harry laughed through his nose and took your glass, placing his and yours on the side table before covering your hand with his and pressing your palm down on his lengthy cock. He brought his other hand up to you, his fingers at your neck and thumb over your cheek when he leaned in to kiss you.

When he backed away from the kiss he looked down to where he had your palm pressed over him, “Why don’t you check.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief but smiled and took the top band of his underwear in your hands and pulled at it, lowering the material and seeing the smattering of hair at his low stomach turn into a darker, thatch before his cock sprung out. The cock was a total distraction. You had forgotten all about the hair when you saw his large organ standing out.

Harry lifted his hips and helped you pull his underwear down. He was certainly nicely built. That was for sure.

You smiled at him and then looked back down at the masterpiece between his legs and leaned in to kiss the tip. Harry moved back, putting his arms behind him to give you space to worship him.

You heard him inhale a sharp breath when your lips came into contact with the tip of his crown and then you looked up at him, “May I?”

Harry nodded quickly and you stuck your tongue out to lick him up and down. You had a lot of area to cover with his penis but you managed to lick him from base to tip all around. He was very hard in your hand. Heavy and thick. You stuck your tongue softly into the slit at his head and looked up at him. He had his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

Just as you wrapped your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue over his frenulum he jolted his hips and gasped, “Wait, god… hold on…” his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you off.

You looked up at him and then sat back, causing his hand to fall away from your neck.

“I’m not going to assume you wanted to have sex, but I kind of wanted to,” he kept his dark eyes on you.

You hated giving blow jobs if you were honest and Harry’s cock was going to cause some damage to your tonsils you could already tell. That monster might not even fit quite well enough for you to really get the job done anyway.

“So, you don’t want a blow job?” You queried, just to be sure.

“I love a good blow job, but…” he looked down and laughed as he shook his head and then set his eyes back on yours with a goofy grin, “this,” he gestured toward his crotch, “tends to take a little training. Not the easiest man to suck off.”

You raised your brows and scoffed, “So, you’re saying that you think your cock is so fat that I’d have trouble taking it down my throat and you’re giving me an easy out and offering to fuck me with that instead of choking me with it?”

Harry barked out a laugh and nodded, “Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

“Thank God, because that thing is quite daunting. Would rather have it in my vagina than my throat, so thank you for that,” you couldn’t believe this man, but he wasn’t wrong. In all honesty, he probably got used to this spiel. It kind of sounded like he’d said it all before.

“So you do want to have sex?” Harry repeated to be sure.

You rolled your eyes and climbed over his thighs, pushing at his chest to bring his back down to the mattress. You straddled his hips and put your unshaven pussy over his cock and then kissed him as your answer. You rolled your hips up and down and Harry grabbed your ass and guided you up and down along his shaft.

There was a lot of girth to rub yourself on with him so your clit was being pressed into on each stroke. Harry moaned into your mouth and pressed you down harder over him as he rocked upward, pressing himself between your slick folds.

“Come on…” he breathed out, “I’ve got a condom,” he said and nudged you up. You stayed in his lap as he leaned over and pulled out a condom from the side table. You found it interesting that he had a condom there being that this was a hotel room. You knew the pattern of men staying in hotels.

Condoms would typically be kept in the luggage or a wallet. Unless the man was expecting company… But you decided to let it go. So what if he was expecting company? Maybe he planned on getting lucky tonight when he went out and thought ahead by putting condoms conveniently in the side table (which is odd for a man to think ahead like that). A woman, now she would think ahead and put condoms in the side table because women think about things like that. Men don’t. Not normally. It’s not a big deal, but it’s also out of character for a man staying in a hotel that he only very recently checked into.

“You okay?” Harry asked you, making you realize you were stuck in your head a bit.

“Oh… yeah. I’m totally good,” you nodded feeling a bit like you were missing something important. Like you were being forewarned of something by the tiny revelation you just had.

You took a breath and tried to push the sudden inexplicable feeling you had down. You wanted him to fuck you. Of course, you did. But what was that feeling you were getting? This sense that something was off? You knew to trust your senses. You had a good read on people and something was not quite right. And you saw him twice in one day? In LA of all places? A strange man from out of town? Yeah… something was off.

You put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and frowned, “I’m… sorry…” you pinched your brows together as you slid off of his lap, “I think I should go.”

Part 2

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[neoninky]

Diasomnia Scenario: Lavender's Blue

I know I said I wouldn't write any more fics - that is still true...however, I did think of a precious scene with King Papa Malleus in the future (OC cameos by lil toddler Hildie VanRouge and Her Majesty Mrs. Moselle Draconia as well) based off of this song:

I've seen a few different versions with lyrical changes but I'm going with this version. So have a comfort/domestic character post, lovelies @hanafubukki @nuitthegoddess @foxwitchaine @onegianthotmess @masquerade-of-misery @aquaburst3 @iscarlettappel

Silvery snow fell outside the window as King Malleus continued to scribble ink across parchment. His desk was full of signed documents whose stacks increased with each passing hour. He finally paused when his ears caught the soft pitter pats of tiny feet sneaking their way into his study. A grin pulled at his lips once he spotted a tiny, familiar head of black hair scurry up to the side of his desk. The dragon king was soon greeted with a bright pair of ruby colored eyes that the little one inherited from her papa.

Malleus set his pen down and welcomed the giggling little bat fae with open arms which she scurried into happily, "Hello, little Beastie."

Hildie VanRouge was growing at an alarming rate. Now, she was a sneaky little toddler who constantly snuck away from her parents to explore the castle and visit her 'big brothers'. No doubt Silver was looking for her at that very moment. She, however, was as carefree as ever in the king's arms.

"Mal Mal!" she giggled and playfully reached for his horns which Malleus granted her access to without question, "Eggy??" He chuckled at her delighted little voice, "Hmm I see. Now is a good time for a break as any. Let's go see how he is doing."

The castle guards barely batted an eyelash at the sight of His Majesty walking the corridors hand in hand with the young fae. The renowned General's daughter had become a VIP amongst the guard and staff.

As the pair drew closer to the nursery, a soft voice could be heard singing. The door was ajar enough for the king to peer inside. Malleus's smile grew at the sight of his queen and her angelic voice. She sat in a rocking chair, gently singing a lullaby to the dragon egg nestled in her arms.

"Lavender's green, dilly, dilly~ Lavender's blue, if you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you~"

Queen Moselle Draconia beamed as the egg glowed in response to her gentle voice and continued to sing.

"Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play~ We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm's way~"

Moselle paused her singing with a soft whisper to the unhatched child, "Oh, your auntie is here to see you, my little prince."

As soon as Malleus pushed open the door, little Hildie rushed up to the queen with excited bright eyes, "Eggy!"

It had become routine for the young bat to check on her nephew any time she visited. She was too young to really understand the hows or whys her nephew arrived as an egg but understood enough to know that he wouldn't be an egg forever. Thus, she was probably more excited for him to hatch than anyone else. Moselle chuckled at Hildie's amusement and scooped the bat into her lap so she could probably greet the little prince. The toddler giggled when the egg glowed as soon she her tiny hands touched the shell.

"You are sure it's a prince, my love?" Malleus wasn't opposed to it just not as convinced as his bride.

"Of course. I can tell. A handsome little prince just like his father," Moselle cooed sweetly to the egg, "And just like his father, he is content to take his time it seems."

Malleus couldn't stop himself from smirking. Lilia had finally told him the full story of his hatching years ago. The king hoped his son didn't have to wait as long as he did to finally hatch.

"Perhaps he desires to wait for more companions before coming out to join them," Malleus smiled and playfully ruffled Hildie's hair before teasing, "It's only a matter of time before Silver and Astrid have more nieces and nephews running around for us, right Beastie?" "And Sebek?" Moselle smiled knowingly, "I'm sure he and Petra will have a lively bunch of hatchlings soon enough."

The royal couple chuckled at the memory of Sebek's emotional outburst when Petra finally confessed that she was smitten with him as well. It certainly took a while but it finally happened to everyone's joy and relief.

"Your father is here too, my darling,” Moselle cooed to the egg and it once again glowed in response. Malleus carefully took his heir into his arms. It made him far less anxious now that he had some practice. He’d never admit it to anyone aside from his queen, but in the beginning he was a bit terrified of fatherhood. How could he, of all people, possibly care for a baby dragon? Help it hatch and thrive? The answer was clear as soon as his bride became a mother. There wasn’t a shred of doubt as soon as she laid their egg, only joy. If she could be brave then so could he.

He placed a gentle hand on their egg's opalescent shell giving it another dose of magic to help his son grow.

“Take your time, my boy. We’ll be waiting for you.”

~

…also shipping jump scares oop 😂

Yeah so since the whole story I was writing about all these characters is on indefinite hiatus, I figured I’d go ahead and just make the ships official in this soft lil blurb

For those that were reading the actual fic:

Silvetra (Silver x Petra) fans, I am sorry…BUT

It’s Sebetra (Sebek x Petra) now and forever amen 🎉⚡️🐊⚡️ you got the girl my boi ya did it

Or for people who love Sebek but don’t read the fic - it’s Sebek x Yuu/Yuu Coded fem OC

Congratulations SebeYuu shippers you got another one kinda! 🫡🎉

Although Silvastrid (Silver x Astrid) is friggin adorable and I will die on that hill lol

At some point in life, I am gonna do more doodles of the 2nd Gen OC bbys but now you know where the Diasomnia 2.0 OCs are coming from lol.

Also no I do not have a name for MalleMo’s son yet. Maybe they carry on the tradition of giving him a “Mal” name like his papa, grandma, and great grandma, or maybe they’ll change it up. Who knows. But his mother is correct in that their son will in fact look like his father…maybe a bit more purple/lilac from his mama.

Ngl, I imagine him looking a lot like SSR FirstDraft!Malleus but with dark green eyes instead of red 👀

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part twenty-five

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: nothing much! i hope y'all enjoy!

masterlist

‘I can smell them.’ Y/N batted at her hair and clothes as she lurched through the snow, trying not to retch. She couldn’t stop seeing those bodies, the angry red flesh peeking through their burnt black casings like burnt coals. It felt like she was coated in their ashes, in the stink of burning flesh. She couldn’t take a full breath. Not that she deserved to. She wondered how many of those soldiers were at one time under her command. Under her sworn protection and care.

She had made every effort to be a mother or sister figure to the soldiers in the Second Army. That’s how you earn their loyalty, show them you care and they’re valued. And she tried. She tried so hard to make every one of them feel her compassion and empathy while maintaining her power as Lieutenant-General. She tried and it wasn’t enough. Again.

She heard an argument stir in the group behind her but she paid no mind to them until a sudden rumble shook the ground. Y/N turned around and lost her footing, she saw Kaz brace himself with his walking stick. They exchanged puzzled glances.

“Are there fault lines this far north?” Wylan asked.

Matthias frowned. “Not that I know of, but-”

A slab of earth shot up from beneath Matthias’ feet, knocking him to the ground. Another erupted to Y/N’s right, sending her sprawling. All around them, crooked monoliths of earth and ice burst upward, as if the ground were coming to life. A harsh wind whipped at their faces, snow spinning in flurries.

“What the hell is this?” cried Jesper.

“Some kind of earthquake!” shouted Inej.

“No,” said Nina, pointing to a dark spot that seemed to be floating in the sky, unaffected by the howling wind.

“We’re under attack,” Y/N spoke up. She crawled on her hands and knees, seeking some sort of shelter in order to regroup. Her mind raced as she witnessed things never done by Grisha before. There was someone in the air, hovering in the sky high above her. She was watching someone fly.

The only Grisha known to fly was herself.

She had seen Squallers play at tossing each other into the air at the Little Palace, but the level of finesse and power it took to maintain controlled flight was unthinkable– at least it had been, until now. It wasn’t a topic that they taught at the palace. Jurda parem.

Y/N had seen the drug’s effects on a Heartrender but to see it on a Squaller is a whole different field.

The Squaller turned in the air, stirring the storm into a frenzy, sending ice flying until it stung her cheeks. She could barely see. She fell backward as another slab of rock and ice shot from the ground. They were being corraled and pushed closer together to make a single target. She knew they were too high in the air for her flame to reach them.

“I need a distraction!” shouted Jesper from somewhere in the storm.

She heard a tiny plink.

“Get down!” cried Wylan. Y/N flattened her body to the snow. A boom sounded overhead, and an explosion lit the sky just to the right of the Squaller. The winds around them dropped as the Squaller was thrown off course and forced to focus on righting himself. It took the briefest second, but it was enough time for Y/N to throw her hands out to contain the fire from the bomb and direct it to the Squaller while Jesper aimed his rifle and fired.

A shot rang out, and the Squaller was hurtling toward the earth. Another slab of ice slid into place. They were trapped like animals in a pen, ready for slaughter. Jesper aimed between the slabs at a distant stand of trees, and Y/N realized there was another Grisha there, a boy with dark hair. Before Jesper could get a shot, the Grisha rammed a fist upward, and Jesper was thrown off his feet by a shaft of earth. He rolled as he fell and fired from the ground.

The boy in the distance cried out and dropped to one knee, but his arms were still raised, and the ground still rumbled and rocked beneath them.

She saw Inej signal to Kaz. Without a word, he positioned himself against the nearest slab and cupped his hands at his knee. The ground buckled and swayed, but he held steady as she launched herself from the cradle of his fingers in a graceful arc. She vanished over the slab without a sound. A moment later, the ground went still.

“Trust the Wraith,” said Jesper.

The group stood, dazed, the air strangely hushed after the chaos that had come before.

Y/N had already got to work on melting the slab of ice to get them out of there and within a few short moments the bottom collapsed and fell backward. Y/N moved her hands gracefully for the fire to swallow the ice before it hit the ground, melting it so it didn’t make as loud of a sound. Her flames radiated a heat none of them had felt before, enough to warm them all up before they would have to continue their journey.

They found Inej standing over the body of the trembling Grisha. He wore clothes of olive drab, and his eyes were glassy. Blood spilled from the bullet wound in his upper thigh, and a knife jutted from the right side of his chest. Inej must have thrown it when she’d escaped from the enclosure.

Nina knelt beside him.

“I need a little more,” the Grisha mumbled. “Just a little more.” He grabbed at Nina’s hand, and only then did Y/N recognize him.

“Nestor?”

He twitched at the sound of his name, but he didn’t seem to know either of the Grisha women above him. “Nestor, it’s me, Nina.”

Y/N knew the two of them were in school together back at the Little Palace. She had personally sent them to Keramzin together on a mission. He was a Fabrikator, one of the Durast who worked with metal, glass, and fibers. It didn’t make sense. Fabrikators made textiles and weapons. He shouldn’t have been capable of what she’d just witnessed.

“Please,” he begged, his face crumpling. “I need more.”

“Parem?”

“Yes,” he sobbed. “Yes. Please.”

“I can heal your wound, Nestor, if you stay still.”

“I don’t want your help,” he said angrily, trying to push away from her.

“Nina,” Y/N warned while placing her hand on her shoulder.

He stood up, staggering on his wounded leg, pulling at the knife buried in his chest. “Where are they?” he screamed. “Where did they go?”

The rest of the group backed up slightly while Y/N stayed in her place. “Who?”

“The Shu!” he wailed. “Where did they go? Come back!” He took a wobbling step, then another. “Come back!” He fell face forward into the snow. He didn’t move again.

Nina had rushed forward while Y/N stood still and watched in horror. This wasn’t right. Practicing the small science should make a Grisha stronger, never drain them to the point of death. Never. Grisha was never supposed to die like this, let alone a soldier. They were to be honored and held with the highest regard.

Kaz had called them all together to keep hiking but Nina argued that they couldn’t leave the body for the wolves. The two bickered for a moment before Matthias offered to help Nina and make sure they’d catch up with the other five. So the group carried on, trying to shake off the scare of the events a few long moments ago.

They all knew this wasn’t going to be an easy heist. They all signed up for it, some more willing than others. They all had to train their minds to focus back on the bigger goal at hand. Go in, get Bo Yul-Bayur, get out. Alive. All of them.

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy

[aliypop]

Anyplace Is Paradise

Word Count: 1,551

Writers Note: A Little break before I write Chapter 6 Of Anday Now, Sorry It took so long I was editing a podcast

Warning: Language / Fluff

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Summary: It's 1956 And Elvis and Cecelia are Vegas-bound for their concerts, but in between time Cecelia has sparked a love for photography.

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

Audubon Drive April 1956

"Cecelia! You're driving like a bat outta hell!" Midge shouted. Cecelia was speeding down Alabama Street in her pink Ford Fairlane Crown Victoria Skyliner. Daphane and Rosa were in the back, sliding around and laughing. "Baby, she's just excited," Cheryl mentioned, 

"About what?" Midge mumbled back to her wife. Cecelia had hit a sharp curve as Midge shook her head, to be 21 and wreckless. 

"Let's see a big two-week show in Vegas..."

"At the same time as Elvis~" Rosa added,

"That's why you agreed to this?!" Daphane rolled her eyes playfully as Cecelia began singing to whatever WHBQ had playing on the radio. "Oh my God...It is..." Daphane reached over and playfully hit her as Cecelia laughed. She and Elvis had been secretly dating for about a year, with her mother on tour with her father. She didn't have to worry about her mother knowing anything. 

"So what if it is. Elvis and I are-"

"Just good friends," Everyone in the car said as they rolled their eyes, 

"Papers are saying y'all are a thing..." Cheryl hinted as Cecelia's cheeks got red. She was silent, "Haven't you seen them oogle at each other," Daphane pretended to gag as Cecelia parked her car next to Elvis's in the open garage. "We don't ogle, we daze." Cecelia got out, walked towards the door, and knocked. Gladys had opened the door, a smile on her face as she hugged Cecelia, 

"Mrs. Gladys!"

"Cece! Come in. Elvis'll be out any minute," Gladys ushered her in. Elvis had had a few flings, but Cecelia was a favorite, 

"Thank you. Did you get the gift I sent you?" She asked as Gladys sat down, "I did, and they're Vernon's favorite pair of earrings on me." She laughed as Cecelia chuckled along with her. 

"I'm pleased you like 'em so much." 

"Alright, Mama, how do I look?" Elvis walked out. As Cecelia was ogling at him. He was wearing one of his lace shirts and slacks. Gladys looked between the two as she shook her head, 

"You look fine,"

"Yes, he is..." Cecelia mumbled, "I mean, does!" Cecelia then stood up as he scooped her into his arms and kissed her, 

"Hey, sugar,"

"Hiya, star shine," Cecelia blushed, 

"You look beautiful." He peppered her face with kisses as she laughed, "Oh Elvis~" a flustered tone from his mouth, "Don't you have to pick up Scotty and Bill..." Vernon said as Elvis pulled away, red as a lobster, 

"Right, right!" Getting his suitcase, Elvis headed out the door holding Cecelia's hand in the other,

"Hey Daph, Rosa! Y'all wanna a ride?" Elvis asked as they looked at Midge and Cheryl, 

"Please, we're all going to the same place!"

"You two can go, but Cece rides with us."

"We aren't going to do anything," Elvis smirked, blinking his baby blues, 

"Presley!"

Elvis and the girls zoomed off as Cheryl smirked at Midge, 

"Now we have some alone time..." 

"I can finally sew without Cece scanning every station for an Elvis song." Midge grinned, 

Cruising to pick up the fellas of the Blue Moon Boys, Rosa, and Daphane were like two kids watching their parents kiss from the back seat, 

Las Vegas April 1956

"We're getting word. A certain Pink Cadillac and Ford have made their way to The New Frontier Hotel." Cecelia laughed, handing a pen to Elvis. In the backseat was a sleepy Scotty, and Daphane was drooling on Bill's shoulder, "Two weeks of paradise..." Elvis smiled,

"Maybe... a trip to the pool will clear your mind?" Cecelia said as he opened the door for her. Cecelia took his hand, and like clockwork, the fans flocked, 

"Denise, Cecelia is gonna be fine..." Midge replied as Cheryl moved their bags into their hotel room, "No, Elvis won't be a problem. Or distraction, they won't even see each other!" Cheryl nearly cackled hearing her wife lie,

Cecelia walked down the hall as Midge stopped her. 

"Your mother called."

"What'd she say?"

"Well, I told her that you didn't even know Elvis was here,"

"So..."

"Don't get pregnant, and don't get caught."Midge smiled,

"So I..."

"Can stay in his hotel room." Midge winked. Cecelia hugged her as she ran off to get settled in, 

"What's that about?" Cheryl asked,

"Oh, Nothing," 

Cecelia had unpacked everything from her suitcase as Elvis was trimming his sideburns and doing his usual pre-show grooming regimen. He was in the mirror, lost in his world until he heard. 

CLICK!

"Cece, what in the hell are you doing?" Elvis laughed, looking directly into the lens of her camera.

"Takin pictures of art." Cecelia laughed as she snapped another photo of him. Elvis couldn't hide his laughter as he tried to act annoyed, but it was also his idea to buy her that thing as a gift. "Last I checked, you can't kiss art." She rolled her eyes as Elvis pulled her in close, dipped her, and kissed her, "You can if it's your muse." She winked. Elvis blushed as he picked her up, "I-I'm your muse?" He blushed as Cecelia nodded, 

"All my love songs are about you." She kissed him again, and he then heard another CLICK!

"Damnit, Cece." He chuckled, tickling her as she laughed. 

The next day, the sun was up and piping hot. Cecelia had just gotten off the phone with her mother as she made her way to the hotel poolside, which was where Elvis was signing autographs in his tied-up shirt, looking as handsome as ever to Cecelia, taking another photo she had soon walked over to him, her heels clicking as she sat by the poolside in her bathing suit. A few fans crowded around her, and Elvis couldn't help but stop and stare at her, "Cat got your tongue, lover boy." Cheryl asked as Elvis blushed, "Wh-What, naw," His accent strong as he was flustered, 

"I believe it does," Cheryl laughed, "You two ain't fooling no one with this whole hiding thing," she whispered before walking away. Cheryl was right, and with Cecelia taking pictures of him, he knew he might as well have his cake and eat it, too. Walking over, Elvis tapped her on the shoulder, some of the guests in shock that he'd even talk to her. While their kids and teenagers already knew the story, 

"I think we should give 'em something to really stare at," Elvis said as Cheryl watched the whole thing happen. She beckoned Midge over, whose blood was boiling like hot pasta sauce, "Like what, Pres..." her brown doe eyes looking up towards his. Pulling her close to him by her chin. He leaned in to give her a kiss until they heard,

SPLASH!

Rosa and Daphane chuckled, seeing the two get out of the pool, sopping wet like a biscuit in gravy. Some of the guests gasped as Cecelia noticed the staff draining the pool. Oh, how it boiled Elvis to the core when people did such things to Cece or, in general, "You'd make more money if you sold the water!" She shouted as Elvis held her back, back in their hotel room after they had both gotten out of the shower. Cecelia was already dressed, her camera back in hand as she took another picture. Elvis glanced up at her as he was a little embarrassed. After all, he was putting on his pants. 

"Cece!" 

"Oh hush, it's not like we didn't just shower together..." Cecelia laughed. Elvis tackled her on the bed and began to tickle her, the two laughing and kissing as he had his hand on her thigh, 

"God, you're beautiful..." Cecelia blushed,

"And you're annoying some- CECE!" He said in a pit of laughter as she tickled his stomach, 

"St-Stop It!"

"Make me~"

"HEY BREAK IT UP YOU TWO!" Midge said. The two looked at her as she shook her head, "You two already broke one rule. Don't break the pregnant one..." she slammed the door, the two irrupting with laughter as Elvis took the camera and pointed it towards them as he took several pictures of them. Even though they were in Vegas to strictly perform, he felt he was on a romantic getaway with his true love. 

On their last night in Vegas, the eight of them were at dinner, eating and carrying on. And there was Cecelia taking pictures of every memory. Sure, a few of her bandmates thought it was annoying. But Midge knew why tomorrow wasn't promised, and youth faded away quickly. Yet here was Cecelia taking every photo she could get of the love of her life, 

"Cece!" Elvis looked at the camera, "Don't you show anyone that one!" He laughed. He had crumbs on his face, and to Cecelia, he never looked more handsome,

~ Bonus ~

"You sure you wanna drive back to Nashville tonight?" Elvis asked as he pulled her close to him by the doorway, "My mother will worry, and I gotta get the girls home." She responded as he sighed, "Alright, you be safe and call me when you get home," He kissed her forehead, 

"I will." She giggled as Elvis felt her slip something in her pocket. It was the photograph of him eating, rolling his eyes. He loved that woman, and he knew that she loved him. 

[trashcanplant]

The Very Model of a Modern Major Beagle

Sally Starlet sat hunched in her room over a sheet of paper. She groaned, crumpling it up and tossing it into the bin. Papers were beginning to pile up.

“Ugh! Why can’t I get this script write? I know I’m no Shakespeare, but I am the brightest, most brilliant playwright in Home!” She cried out in agony, dramatically lounging in her chair. Sally sighed, looking at her new, blank page of paper.

This semi-angry script writing session was fueled by a visit to Poppy’s barn not three hours ago. Sally was bringing her a script to read, and the bird, anxious about starring in another one of Sally’s plays, suggested that she try to write for another one of her neighbors like Frank or Barnaby.

Thus, Sally sat positively simmering at her inability to write. She wouldn’t say she loathed her neighbors, just everything that they did and stood for. How uptight Frank was, and how loosey-goosey Barnaby was. Such stark opposites, and Sally was expected to write a script even those buffoons could do?

She tapped her pen against the page, then started idly doodling Frank in a very fancy, over-the-top hat. An idea came to the stars head, and she grinned.

“Oh, Sally, you brilliantly bright thing, you! You’ve done it again! Now, to put pen to page and let the ink tell this story!” She said grandiosely, beginning to furiously write upon the paper.

Come the next day, Frank was awoke by a feverish phone call from Sally.

“Mmnnnhello..?” They groaned into the speaker, voice still croaking out of its glaze of sleep. He tried to remain semi-quiet as not to disturb the soundly sleeping mass in their bed.

“Franklin! You must get dressed as soon as possible and meet me at my house! Immediately, do you understand?” Sally asked loudly. Frank whined slightly, taking the receiver away from his ear. It was too loud for this.

“Fine, Fine..” they replied. He was definitely awake now. This was going to be a long day for the etymologist.

A similar call awoke Barnaby. His phone rang ceaselessly for much longer though, as the pampered pooch tended to be a heavy sleeper. Finally, after Sally managed to hurl herself through the beagle’s window, he woke up.

“Barnaby!” The star shouted giving his body a jostle. His eyes opened unevenly and rather slowly. One would think Sally had drug a corpse out from the grave. No, she had just awoken Barnaby from a ruff dream.

“Huh? What? Somebody turn off the lights in here, I’m blind in here-“ Barnaby spoke, already cracking jokes as he batted Sally away with a paw. The actress scoffed.

“Barnaby, you need to wake up right now and get dressed! Or else!” Sally threatened, hands on her hips.

“Or else what? Ya won’t put food in my bowl or give me belly rubs or nothin’?” He asked, rolling over in his bed to face away from Sally. She groaned, tapping her foot on the floor. Her patience was wearing thin.

“Or else I’ll write a play saying that apples are bad for your health and show it to Wally!” She said. Barnaby sighed, falling onto the floor on the other side of his bed.

“Fine, Fine. Yer lucky I’m a sucker fer that lil’ guy.” He said, chuckling.

“Yes. Now get dressed and meet me at my house! There’s no time to waste!” She repeated, running out of his house. Barnaby stood there confused. Today was gonna be weird.

Both Frank and Barnaby ended up at Sally’s house at just about the same time. They entered her front garden, only to find her standing on the roof, looking down at them with a grin. From her vantage point, she threw two thick books of paper down to them.

“There! My latest masterpiece! Barnaby, you will be playing the role of Pirate King. Franklin, you will be the general!” She announced. The two men on the ground looked at each other.

“Sally, how are you expecting us to do this? I don’t even know the first thing about war!” Frank said. They shook their head slightly, flipping through the pages only to be pleasantly surprised.

“I am the very model of a modern major general, I’ve information vegetable, animal, mineral… I know the scientific names of beings and emalculas… I can a hum a fugue of which I’ve heard the musics dine fore?” Frank spoke, a little smile on their face. He chuckled, and Barnaby looked down at his paper.

“With a pirate head an’ a pirate heart… somethin’ somethin’ I am a pirate king… oh I am a pirate king. Swinging around.. bein’ silly.. keep movin’.. sword fight. Hmm.. When I sally forth to seek my prey I help myself in a royal way… Must somehow manage to get through more dirty work than ever I do for I am a pirate king. It is, it is a glorious thing to be a pirate king— woah Sally, you’re really gettin’ the point across. At least I get a sword fight. Frankie here just brags about how smart he is.” Barnaby said with a laugh. Frank’s brow furrowed and they grumbled.

“I know! It’s just like the both of you!” Sally said with a smile. She crossed her arms. Barnaby and Frank exchanged a look. There wasn’t a lot they agreed on, but in this moment it was decidedly so.

“We will not be doing this show, Sally.” Frank said with a smile. Sally paused, looking at them.

“What do you mean you won’t be doing this show?! It’s my best work!” She fumed. Barnaby stepped in, resting an arm on Frank’s perfect hairdo. He grumbled slightly, but kept cool as Barnaby spoke.

“What he said was, we ain’t doin’ yer silly lol’ show, Sal. Ya turned us into our arch-ee-types, an’ that ain’t real nice a ya.” He said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his pipe. He lit it and released a puff as he laughed.

“Besides, there’s no way a little pooch like me would be a pirate king. Or a pirate for that matter! I’ve never stolen once, swear on my mama’s heart.” Barnaby said, crossing himself with his big blue fingers. Sally rolled her eyes.

“But I need someone to play the parts! You must play them, you were made for them!” Sally said. Frank moved Barnaby’s arm off of them.

“No, Sally. We refuse to be reduced down to our core elements! We aren’t caricatures of ourselves like how you’ve written us in the script. We are more than just smart and loud.” Frank said. He was really putting his foot down on this one!

“Yeah, you tell ‘er, Frankie! We ain’t just the whipped cream an’ cherry on top! We’re the whole dang hot dog.” Barnaby said. The sentence made both Frank and Sally pause in disgust and disbelief. Sally shook her head.

“Never the matter! I’ll just have… Julie and Howdy play the parts! There!” Sally said. She stomped her foot down. She was clearly upset.

“Whatever, kid. Just call us when ya start showin’ it. We’d love ta watch.” The comedian says, taking another puff of his pipe and walking away.

Frank stayed behind for a moment. He took a breath then approached Sally.

“Look, we’ve never gotten along. But I am interested in seeing more of what this general has to say. You write very eloquently for someone so loud.” They said. The comment was just nice enough, but Sally was smart.

“I heard that, Franklin. You have 5 seconds before I go telling Poppy what you said.” She grinned. Frank started running towards the barn, and Sally gave chase.

She may not have ended up with actors, but at least she’d made her neighbors smile for a moment and pay attention to her. And in the end, that’s all that really matters.

[fakefanofmarvel]

Novacane// Matt Murdock X Dark! Reader

CW: THIS IS A DARK FIC. If that is not something you are into please scroll. Mentions of Drugging, Drugs, Kidnapping, stalking, and a lot of really not-good things. I always read dark character fic and was trying to do a little spin and have the reader bat shit crazy hope you enjoy it. MINORS DNI. Part 2 3

You watched the video on your phone over and over again. The devil of hell's kitchen was back and better than ever. You watched as he fought the man the news was calling "The Punisher". His body in that tight suit was enough you make anyone swoon without even seeing his face. He was tall and slender yet muscular, he had to be the way he was tossing another grown man around like a doll. You wanted him and would do anything to determine who he was. It took about a week of examing the videos of him online to realize the eyes in his suit were covered meaning he either didn't want to see or couldn't. How he would stand still during battle almost like he was listening for something rather than looking helped you narrow your search for a tall, muscular, blind man in his early 30s. By this time, the punisher was captured, and word about his legal team had gotten out. Nelson and more importantly, Murdock.

"Thank you guys so much for taking my case with everything going on now with that punisher guy I'm assuming it's pretty busy around here," You thanked Karen

Once you made the connection linking Matt to Daredevil it was smooth sailing from there. First, figure out how to get a case for them to take. Luckily your landlord had been refusing to fix the air in your apartment while simultaneously raising your rent which from your research was right up Nelson and Murdock's ally. Second, somehow get them to take a case in the height of the case of the century. That is where Karen came in. A super sweet girl has a soft spot for women in trouble. Worked like a charm.

"Of course, this should be a pretty open-and-shut case. Foggy is great with these types of things," She said handing you a clipboard to fill out paperwork.

"Hm Foggy? Is he the blind one?" You asked already knowing the answer

"No that would be Matt," She corrected handing you a pen.

You started filling out the paperwork trying not to raise any suspension

"Oh I just think it's awesome how he a blind lawyer. I'm going blind in my right eye so it's refreshing to see how blind people don't let their disable stop them," You lied trying to see if you could hit another soft spot in Karen. "He's like an inspiration. I want to be a doctor,"

You saw a sweet smile come across her face. Bingo you had her in the palm of your hand.

"You know, he'll be here in about 45 minutes if you wanted to take your time on that paperwork and meet him," she offered

"Oops," You dropped the paperwork on purpose buying you a few extra minutes.

Karen laughed and chatted with you while you did the paperwork.

"I'm sorry, you didn't get to meet Matt the other day. He tends you disappear most days," Karen apologized as she took a sip of her drink.

You had made friends with Karen. Which wasn't hard she was actually really nice and you had a few things in common. She had invited you out to drink with her and Foggy at the Josie's.

"It's okay. I'm sure I'll meet him soon,"

The truth was you were tired of waiting and you were determined to meet him that night.

"Thank you guys for inviting me out. I don't have many friends since moving here," You lied again.

"Of course," Foggy spoke up. " Who says you can't be friends with your clients," He joked knowing he and Karen had become close friends after they defended her case.

The 3 of you spent the rest of the night drinking and playing pool. You were 3 shots and 2 mixed drinks in when you heard the sound of tapping heading your way. Your head faced the direction the sound was coming from and you laid eyes on him for the first time. He was much taller in person.

"Hey Matt, over here," Foggy said waving him over.

Without missing a beat he walked over to the three of you. Once in front of Foggy he stopped and whispered something to him.

"Oh, this is our new client, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Matt Murdock," You reached out to shake his hand when you realized you were drunker than you thought.

You stumbled forward, falling into him. "Woah you okay," he asked

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I think I had too much to drink," You regained your balance. " Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," He shook your hand.

The two of your hands are still locked together. You stared at him finally seeing the man you had been obsessed with for the last few months. You had obviously caught his attention too because he was staring back even though he couldn't see you.

"Nice to meet you too," He said breaking the silence between the two of you.

"Okay well. I'm going to walk Karen home. Can you make sure (Y/N gets home safely, please?" Foggy asked holding up an equally drunk Karen.

"Of course, Foggy. Be safe you two." Matt insured him

You watched as Foggy and Karen leave the bar, leaving just you and Matt.

"I'm sorry you missed all the fun," You stood in front of the door of your apartment building.

"Oh don't apologize. Foggy and Karen seem to be very fond of you I'm sure we will have more time to catch up,"

"I would really like that Matt," You said earning a smile from him. "Do you want to come up for a drink since you didn't get to have one? And I can call you a cab they hardly come around here this time of night," You offered hoping he'd take the bait.

"I would love to,"

Perfect. You unlocked the door and led the way up to your apartment. You flicked the light on as you walked in, Matt was not far behind.

"Sorry about the mess I wasn't expecting company," You apologized

"It's alright it's not like I can see it anyway," he joked.

"Oh gosh, sorry was that insensitive"

He laughed before reassuring you it wasn't. The two of you made your way to the living room. You showed him to the couch before walking to the bar area to make him a drink.

"I hope a vodka soda is okay because that's all I have," You joked handing it to him.

"Uh yeah. Of course. Thank you again,"

"So how long have you known Foggy and Karen?" You asked trying to make conversation.

The two of you talked for hours only being interrupted when you noticed the sun had started to rise.

"Shoot, Matt, it's almost 6am," You said grabbing the cups from the coffee table and taking them to the kitchen.

"Hey, it's alright. I'll just be a little late for work. I'm sure Foggy and Karen will understand, "He explained getting up and grabbing his jacket.

"Of course, they've been really sweet to me these last few days. It was really nice to finally meet you, Matt," You walked him over to the door.

"We should really do this again. I had a lot of fun," He said standing next to the unopened door.

"Maybe next time we'll go back to your place, Mr. Murdock." You teased.

"I think I like it better over here actually," He grabbed your waist pulling you closer until you could feel his breath on your lips.

"I think I like you better over here too actually," You said flustered

You were glad he couldn't see your face because you would be embarrassed at how hard you were blushing right now. He leaned in for a kiss which you dodged.

"Sorry, Mr. Murdock, I don't kiss on the first date. Meet me back here after work and you might get that kiss," You pushed him back by his chest.

"Well, I guess I'll be back tonight," He said before kissing you on the forehead and leaving.

You smiled to yourself before locking the door behind him. As much as you wanted to kiss Matt you knew you had to wait. You didn't want to come off too strong and scare him. You made your way over to the kitchen where you had put the coffee mugs. You grabbed the one Matt used and dropped it in a ziplock bag before walking over to the grey and gold treasure chest you keep in your closet. You open the top of the chest where you kept all your research on Matt, along with pictures and now the mug he used to drink coffee out of. A smile crept onto your face as you closed the lid to your private tribute to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen and locked it, knowing soon he'd be yours

"Ruling in favor of the Plaintiff, the court dismissed," The judge banged the gavel on the bench before getting up.

Matt and Foggy both hugged you as your case came to a close. After 2 long months, you guys had built a perfect case. You just wanted your air fixed but in the end, you were able to move to an updated apartment free of charge and were able to keep the same rent payments as before. The court cleared out only leaving the 4 of you.

"Thank you guys so much! You two make a really good team. Celebration at my new apartment whenever I move in," The 3 of you laughed with Karen joining in from the gallery. "Well how about drinks tonight at Josie's, my treat," Matt spoke up.

"Ouu carefully, Ms. (Y/L/N), I think your boyfriend is trying to impress us," Froggy joked.

"He is very charming," You smiled up at him as he pulled you into a side hug kissing you on the top of the head.

"Let's get out of here. I really want to go change out of this dress," Karen spoke up

"Uh yeah. We will meet you guys in like an hour," You said

"More like 2 hours," Matt nudged you

Foggy and Karen both groaned in unison. Not far behind the two of you as you exited the courtroom.

"You are one kick-ass lawyer," You said undoing Matt's tie. You noticed a cut on his neck.

You of course knew it was from his nights as DareDevil but he doesn't know that so you had to play the role of confused girlfriend.

"Hey, what's this" He grabbed your hand before it reached the scar

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. I run into a lot of stuff. You know with the whole being blind thing," He joked

You laughed along as you undid the buttons on his shirt.

"You gotta be more careful, Matt, can't have my 'boyfriend' getting all banged up" you quoted Foggy from earlier

"I'm sorry, I had told Foggy things between us were getting a little more serious. I hope you don't mind"

"Of course not. I was hoping I wasn't imagining it," the two of you laughed

"So will you be my girlfriend?" He asked as he lifted your shirt over your head.

"Duh Murdock," You stood on your toes to kiss him.

He picked you up wrapping your legs around him. He laid you down on the bed before undoing his belt

[beaniebeensbaby201]

ALIVE! LUKE PATTERSON X ALIVE! READER

SUMMARY: Y/N Molina(cousin) has been distancing herself from Luke, as she was assigned to be his dance partner for class. Y/N imagines the two of them together, which didn't go unnoticed by the group. Only for Luke to over hear and to finally confess his love for her.

Warnings: making out, slight cursing, slight angst. Reader and Luke simping for one another.

It's been a week since Y/N had seen Luke. After she realized She was in love with her best friend. y/n was with Julie in the studio, then Luke started to enter. Y/N was quick to grab her songbook, and her guitar, making sure not to make eye contact with the boy.

Luke stares at the girl who was rushing past him. His eyes staring at hers, she wanted to look up but she covered her face with her journal. He looked like a puppy got hit by a car, his once happy smile that she loved was now a frown.

He points his thumb where the girl left.

"You saw that right?" Julie herself was shocked, the past week she's ignored Luke.

"She's ignoring me. Ever since the dance she's ignored me." Luke kicked the ground, Julie bit her bottom lip.

She knew the reason, but she promised her cousin that she wouldn't spill the beans.

"What?" Luke looked up and saw the Latina was silent.

"Nothing?" The girl bats her lashes, and tries to look clueless.

"You know what's up Julie. Tell me." He gives her the puppy dog eyes. Julie cringed trying to fight her demons.

"Fine! Y/n has feelings for you. Ever since you guys danced. She was embarrassed, so she's trying to get over you." Luke scoffed, he loved her since they first met in 8th grade.

Y/N was there for him for everything, he only ever trusted and loved her.

She was the type of girl that listens to whatever you have to say. She would always have the best advice. She loved music just as much as he did, so he taught her how to play guitar when she asked.

Luke left before Julie could say anything else because he knew she was in her room.

Y/N was writing in her journal, tapping her pen as she hummed to create lyrics.

The door to her room was slightly ajar, so Luke pushed it opened more as he shimmied through the door.

The wood creaked under his feet causing Y/N to turn around to find the boy.

He looks at the girl in front of him.

"Hi?" Luke waved at the girl.

She awkwardly waves back.

"What do you want Luke?" Usually she'd run up to him and hug him, as she'd show him a new song that she wrote. This time it was different.

"Julie told me everything." The girl froze in her chair.

She averts her gaze. Staring at the poster that was on her ceiling, as she found it more interesting.

"Everything, everything?" Luke started to walk closer.

"Everything." With a shaky breath Y/N got up from her seat and faced the boy.

"I mean, she can't really have told you everything. I mean there is a fine line between everything, and then there's a line when you hear teeny tiny things." Her voice gets high pitched at the end as she holds her fingers in a half pinch.

He took her hand that was still in the air, making her shut up.

His hazel eyes bore into hers, the type of stare to make you weak in the knees.

"I like you, like a lot. And I always thought there was something there. I just didn't think you felt the same until recently. When you dodge my touch, when you don't want to write together anymore. When you leave the room as I enter." He ticks off the list of reasons.

"Luke-" He rolled his eyes as she was about to protest.

He grabs her face and places his lips against hers. Quickly retaliating, she placed her hands on his neck and kissed him back. Tongues dancing together, only to stop when they heard whispers behind them.

They noticed their friends have been caught watching the scene.

"Guys." Luke said, as the group scrambles.

"You guys owe me forty each!" Alex exclaimed.

The couple laughed as they went back to kissing.

"You want to help me finish a song?" Luke whispers against her lips, his fingers holding her hips.

She bites his lip between her teeth in a teasing way.

"Sure." She said, giving him another peck on his lips they head towards the studio.

[catharusustulatus]

There’s no hairspray in the apocalypse. Steve had only done a partial wash before volunteering at the high school, and after the ash started falling, and the town shook again, a great thrashing, everyone was called to the cabin, and from there it only got scarier and busier. Three days later his hair is flat and curled only at the ends, waking up on Hopper’s old cot with bed head. It’s getting longer again, after his haircut post-Starcourt. He doesn’t know what to do with it.

After a long day of setting traps for demodogs and fearing for his life, sweat pooling in the back of his shirt, he asks Robin if she can put it in a ponytail. It’s not quite long enough but the ends can fit, and she obliges quietly with a tender smile.

The cabin barely has hot water and there’s so many of them he doesn’t push showering for longer than five minutes. He scrubs the dirt and blood off, changes his bandages, puts his now stained blue henley back on. If he’d known this is what he’d be wearing every day, he’d have dressed differently. He’d have packed his toiletries.

A week later they’re patrolling near his neighborhood. Lucas and Nancy are lookouts as he chances finding the spare key to his house; everyone else’s are empty or already swallowed by the growing number of sink holes. His parents won’t care, they haven’t even answered his calls, so he doesn’t feel bad.

He runs through his house, heart beating like a drum, knowing he has little time to salvage what he can. He grabs what he sees; all of the canned food, the cereal, some almost expired milk, the can opener just in case. Two clean kitchen knives. His first aid kit. The extra blankets Robin always uses when she sleeps over. His toothbrush, floss, eye drops, his brush his comb his shampoo oh my god his hairspray. It’s his last can and it’s almost empty but he takes it. He grabs the nail bat, a notebook and pen. He takes the denim vest, pushed far under his bed in shame and sadness. He’s so glad to take it all.

They’re running back to the cabin from where he parked the beemer, Nancy wincing from a sprained wrist - she got blowback from the shotgun, saving their asses after the house raid - and Steve is so thankful it’s not worse. That they have more food to eat. That he has at least one more week of Farrah Fawcett spray.

Another week later and they’ve built a rhythm, as a group. The kids play games and draw in their free time. They all play cards. Joyce tells stories with a flashlight. Argyle is actually a great cook, and he makes their canned food somehow last - and he’s caring too - Steve clocks, quietly, that Argyle always serves himself last. Steve braids everyone’s hair, recalls sports statistics with Hopper, washes the dishes, makes up sequels to movies with Robin, makes peace with Jonathan. He hums pop songs to go to sleep. He cries a lot. He misses Eddie and doesn’t know why it aches so much. He runs out of hairspray.

Nancy half jokingly gives him a headband from her bag but he takes to wearing it to tame the beast. No one’s ever seen his hair so wild, so flat and tall at the same time. He’s vulnerable in a way he’s never been, even as they take to peeing with the door cracked open at night and having heard everyone’s nightmares a dozen times. One night it’s so bad Steve wakes up just to puke in the bathroom sink, and Joyce runs cool water over his neck, kneeling over the bathtub, shivering. His tears are thick and clean down his grimy face in the bathroom mirror. She hugs him for a long time. “What was it this time?” She asks. “My dad.” He tells her. “Mm. Real piece of work.” Her hands soothe his aching neck. She had told him before, how she knew his dad from high school. For some reason, even with all the monsters, his worst fear is still human. He tries to focus on the humans that love him instead.

By the time the apocalypse is over, a final quake ending their fighting, Steve’s hair is longer and can fully fit in a pony tail. He wears the headband to push back his flyaways but also because it’s from Nancy. The shock of survival hits him and he’s on his knees, and then he wakes up somewhere else.

The first shower he takes in the Indianapolis hospital he sobs, hot water beading down his body like a christening. He traces his wounds, his scars, the lack of sleep deep set in his face. He can’t believe he survived. He has no idea what happens next. Every moment is a gift, relief floating in his gut. He shaves his head.

[marblesarelost]

Tales From the Nightshade Clinic Part 5

Chris looked down at the forms in front of him, his entire face wrinkled up, before holding his head up with his left hand, pen still in his right.  “The hell,” he muttered to himself.

“Oh hello, dear!”  He looked up to see …again, the hell, he wondered.  The little old lady seemed familiar, but he didn’t recognize her right off the bat.  She was smiling at him as if she knew him, though, so he decided to play nice.

“Hi.”

“You are Chris, aren’t you?  I know I’ve seen you in here before, and I know Deena.  Such a sweet girl.”  She stayed about a foot away from his table, just hanging on to her purse in one hand and her coffee cup in the other…and she was old…and she might know something about this bullshit.

“Uh, yeah.  I’m Chris, Deena’s my aunt.  I don’t know that I know you, sorry?”  

“Oh!  Oh, my manners, I’m so sorry.”  She came closer, set her cup on the table and held out her hand.  He stood, like Mom taught him, and shook it gently.  “I’m Mrs. Guzman.  Well!”  She looked down at the papers on the table.  “Oh my.  You’re coming to work at the clinic?”

“Uh.”  He stuttered, looked down himself, and saw the emergency contact card had “Nightshade Clinic” at the top of it.  “I, um, yeah.  Just like, janitorial stuff, but Dr. Hirai and Matt, the nurse, said I could maybe learn some basic stuff too.”  The lady just beamed at him, her smile becoming even brighter and wider as she adjusted her glasses.

“Well this is lovely!  I’m a member of the board that oversees it.  I’m sure you’ll see me, I bring in lunch for the staff every other week or so, and we have a little meeting – but oh.  You might not be there, it’s usually very, very late, and you’re still in school aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m a junior, but it’s almost summer,” he shrugged.  “Figure I can stay later over the summer.”

“Well, we’ll have to see, you know, child labor laws and all of that,” she said.  “But I’m sure we can teach you more than just – what are you being hired for again?”

“I’m supposed to help Bobbi with like, cleaning and manning the front desk and stuff, like getting folks to fill out their paperwork, you know.”

“Well, that might mean handling money or trade, too,” she said, leaning in and dropping her voice a little.  “And some of that trade might be…a little strange, to a young man like you.”

“Oh, Aunt Deena and I go mushroom and herb picking,” he told her.  “And…I mean.  I’ve helped her with some other stuff.”

“Ah.”  Ms. Guzman sipped from her cup.  “The sort of thing the little fluffy bunny wannabes would faint over, I take it.”

“Yeah, probably.”  He remembered the blood spraying over the fire, the way it sizzled.  Remembered the smell of bay and rosebuds.  Remembered the way the moon had sung to him that night.  

She changed the subject, though her smile grew sly.  “So you won’t have any issues, then, if one of our clients brings in…a brace of rabbits, say.  Fresh.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Excellent,” she nodded.  “Now what were you frowning so hard about when I came up, dear?  I know our applications aren’t that tricky.”

He pushed the tax papers at her, and she giggled.  “No, you’re right.  These are tricksy.  Did you need some help?”

“Please?”

“I would be delighted to walk you through it.”  She started telling him where to put what, and he followed her directions carefully – “You always want to put single if you can, dear, they’ll withhold more, but that means you’ll get something of a windfall next spring.  And if you’ll take an old lady’s advice, do try to save at least five percent of your pay.  Ten is better, but five is usually more doable at your age.”

When they finished, he stacked the papers neatly and put them back in the manila folder they’d come with.  He stood when she did, picked up his bag and held the door for her as they went out into the sunny afternoon.  “Um.  Ms. Guzman?  Can I ask a question?”

“Of course,” she offered, heading for a gorgeous, absolutely fuckin’ beautiful, red convertible.  Classic, he knew that, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on the model.

“Why do …why would the clinic have us do taxes, if most folks who work there are…you know.  Different?”

“Oh, dearie.”  She opened her car door, dropped her purse on the seat, and the breeze picked up, blowing hard, but she looked perfectly unruffled, not a hair out of place.  “Listen to me.  The clinic has many, many people who come there and who work there who are, as you say, different.  But the IRS is a monster even the largest wolf, even the bloodiest vampyr, even the eldest of the Sasqui won’t challenge.”  

He couldn’t help laughing at that, and she winked before sliding behind the wheel.  “Have a lovely day, Chris.”

“You, too, ma’am.”  And she was gone in a flash, pretty car pulling out on the road and heading down Harrison Street, leaving him…a little more confident, to be honest.  He grinned, hefted his bag, and headed for home.

[endlessrise]

Lucy was conducting another exploration of the house, the small Evoline had indeed learned not to go into the workout room again. Well, unless she managed to skitter into the room behind Kefla before he closed the door. Her little wings were a little tender after what happened with the weights.

Today she managed to get into a diffrent room, the home office of the saiyan who runs the house. Her little tail swayed in anticipation, pushing against the door and shutting the gap that she had entered through. The door clicked when it latched shut.

The small demonic would explore the room, jumping up onto and furniture and rubbing her scent on anything she can. Knocking some things over, some of which would land on the floor. Some paperwork got scattered, but it didn't catch her interest as she didn't understand what was on them.

Then there were the pens that got knocked onto the floor, the sound of them hitting the ground caught her attention instantly and she would get off the desk the same way she got on. She would start playing with the pens, batting them around and chasing when as they roll. Chewing on the end of one of them, effectively causing it to burst and and splatter her face with ink.

A squeak of surprise comes from her when that happens, but it didn't stop her from messing around with the others. Getting the cap off a different pen and getting the grand idea to suck on the end of it, the weird taste of ink would fill her little mouth. The taste of the ink was strange, so naturally she would stop.

Finally, her third victim. The last pen that she had knocked down was near some paper. So, with the knowledge of the strange substance that came out of the strange tubes out of the metal end, the ink stained baby would take the pen in her tiny hand and press the tip to the paper and move it.

The line on the paper surprised her, so she would do it again, and again, and again. Scribbling on the paper, as if she wasn't stuck in a room. Being oddly quiet compared to normal.

The only reason the baby is not stopped from going inside his office where he puts all the important things for his work is because he is taking a shower after having trained. Cold water relaxes the body and muscles. Eventually, he does get out of the bathroom after wiping himself with his towel. One for the body and another one for his face. He puts them on the towel rack so that they dry out and goes to his room to put on some clothes. A slim fit black jeans and a white tank top with black high top shoes. Now that he is dressed, he walks out of the room to head down to the living room. However, his nose picks up a familiar scent from the office where he puts all the stuff reserved for work.

This is why he did not see the baby ever since he got out, she has been in his office all the time. There is nothing she could hurt herself with but all the papers he left on the desk. There is no telling what this overly curious brat can do with all of them. He rushes to the door and slides it open. But to his despair, he is late. Ink stains on the floor, his pen in ruins. The baby on his desk covered in the ink and making a mess of everything. His office, his documents, his work! The rage begins to rise in him as he approaches the baby to grab her by the arm and drag her away from his desk. He takes the only pen that seems to have survived and puts it down.

— Do you realize what you just did?

Of course, since she is a baby. She does not know any better, she does not what is bad and good. Therefore, he does not wait for an answer of a sort and steps out of the office while he holds her by the arm. He closes his office and just like the training room, this room is now going to only open to him.

— You ruined all the documents I made, all the documents I was supposed to prepare and give to Naeb. You're not getting out of this that easily.

To prevent any other future outcome similar to this, he is going to make all the other doors only accessible to him after he teaches her a lesson. He was contemplating calling the child care center to give them Lucy because he certainly was not feeling like having her around anymore. But, he knows they will be unable to manage her and she will hurt the other kids. If she does such, they are going to return her to him, anyway. So, this is not a viable solution.

He takes her to the sink to remove all the ink on her body and in her mouth, then uses another clean towel to dry her properly. After doing such, he places her on the table and takes an empty small bowl. He fills it with an extremely spicy powder and takes a small spoon. He fills the spoon with the spicy powder and opens her mouth.

— This is your punishment.

He pushes the spoon into her mouth and forces her to chew and swallow the powder. He takes some more powder and repeats the process until there is nothing left in the bowl. Then he takes a bottle of milk.

— Every time you do something like this, this is how I am going to punish you. So, you will remain with your mouth burning for the next 10 minutes so that you can repent well on your actions. No, you know what, if you keep doing stuff that makes my life harder. The next punishment will be harder.

[medicus-mortem]

@chatcambrioleur​ asked: "There's a storm coming. Dry lightning." Nami would have preferred a little rain --- the island they were near probably could have used it. A plus, it was always fun to play in the rain.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her head tilting as she took note of the shift in the air. The sky was blue and the clouds were white and as fluffy as the cotton candy their reindeer doctor adored, but she was certain of it. Law was visiting on the Sunny for business, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try to snag him away for a little fun. Even if it was something as simple as spending time with her. "I was thinking I might go to land and find a safe spot to watch." After a little bit of time exploring the town. Maybe a little shopping.

"--- Wanna come?" She posed her question looking up to Law, instead of the sky, with a soft smile and a bat of long lashes.

Unprompted

   He and Nico Robin have been planning an expedition into the depths. The Hearts had located many a sunken poneglyph in their journeys and they have meticulously mapped out all their locations. Law couldn’t read them then, no one on his crew could, but he’s learning now. The Straw Hat archaeologist is happy to teach him what she knows and Law, with his new goal swimming around in his brilliant mind, is an eager student. He’s even picking up the script rather quickly and this bit of history hunting will prove useful for both him and Nico Robin.

   Law is currently supposed to be taking a break from the planning and logistics stage. He managed to come out for some fresh air, deciding to linger near the mikan orchard where Nami is tending to her trees, but that’s where his resting ends. He holds one of his journals in his hand, golden eyes focused on the page and rough map of undersea caverns they have to traverse to get to the poneglyph. Thinking about route, currents, dangers. Everything. As he so often does.

   Nami’s pleasant voice slips into his thoughts, the navigator making a comment about the weather. He grunts around the pen he’s currently chewing as an acknowledgement of her words. Curious, he does glance up from the page to look at the sky. He sees no signs of a storm but Law has long since learned to trust Nami’s instincts. She’s a wonder with the way she seems so in tune with the weather.

   Then comes her chosen adventure for the day, and a question thrown at him. Law lowers his book, turning his gaze to Nami’s. He tenses for a moment when he sees how she’s looking up at him. Soft smile, fluttering of lashes. Trying to butter him up, to manipulate as she does, but is that a hint of genuine hopeful expectation he hears in her voice?

    “Hmmm, dunno,” he says, frowning with his thoughtful hum. “This is a big endeavor. Nico-ya and I got a lot of work to do.”

   As he speaks the doctor turns his gaze to where Robin reclines on the deck, a book in hand and a coffee nearby. She seems content, relaxed. Seems the archaeologist is taking break time seriously.

    He isn’t surprised when Robin turns to look directly at them. A smile is on her lips when she waves a hand at him, a gesture to go and have fun. Their planning can wait a while. He suspects she was listening to them. Robin does seem to enjoy knowing about everything that happens on the Sunny and her flower power is ideal for spying on others or listening in on their conversations. He looks down at that railing and sure enough an ear is sprouting from the wood.

   “Sure, alright,” he says, letting a sigh slip from him and forcing his shoulders to relax. He snaps his journal shut, gaze focusing on Nami. “Maybe you’ll explain to me how the fuck you predict the weather as you do while we’re there.”