#i don’t remember if this was said in the original show it’s been so long since i saw it

[inukag]

Throwing this at the people who think that Kagome and Kikyo are “the same person”

[rosicheeks]

as a fellow she-ra fan it makes me REALLY happy that you watch it too! it’s such a good show ugh and it’s so cute 🥺 10/10 i would love to cuddle and watch it with you and nerd out about it 🥺🤭💖

-🌸

[honey-tongued-devil]

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view. 

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.

[little-pondhead]

Clone AU Idea:

Danny is a great person to be a clone of a lot of different people, but have we considered the reverse?? That some of Danny’s clones, before Dani’s creation, escaped when Vlad thought they had failed?

There’s a hero out there, somewhere, with memories of being born in a lab run by a vampire. They run away to another universe to avoid Vlad. They fabricated their origin story to fit in and stabilized themselves because ofc they did. They’re a Fenton. They establish themselves as a hero due to the inherited powers, maybe getting on a JL team. And they just, don’t bring it up. Ever. To anyone.

Then Danny-even funnier if he’s still a teen cause time runs differently-manages to sniff his clones out simply because Dani remembers something one of her brothers said before he died. About how a few of them had escaped before, so there was hope for her since she was the best. She had a chance.

So Danny finds out he has more than one clone and goes on a manhunt through the Realms to make sure they’re okay. No one is safe. The clones don’t know who he is but they do know that a fourteen year old is showing them up at their own game. They’d been struggling with these powers for so long at this point, estranged from their original world, and some kid who claims to be their dad is beating their ass?? (It’s bonding time)

Just, take ‘Danny adopts random heroes’ and ramp it up to TEN. I wanna see it.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (1)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Emily Scott, sister of legendary lionesses Jill Scott, has died at the age of 21. Wife Amelia Scott-Higgins in intensive care. 

Police have confirmed that Emily Scott was murdered in her family home over the weekend, her wife, Matilda’s star Amelia Scott-Higgins is in intensive care after sustaining life threatening injuries. 

Waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and in heaps of pain was not exactly how I expected my day to go but here we are. I don’t remember much. I remember going home after training, I stopped to get dinner, chicken carbonara and garlic bread from our favourite Italian restaurant and then flowers from the corner stand that Emily was obsessed with. I was already late so who cares if I was a little extra late. 

I remember the front gate being open, which is never normally the case, I remember the front door being unlocked but closed, again not normal but sometimes Em is in a rush when she gets home. As I took my shoes and coat off and wandered down the hallway, I didn’t notice the guy standing behind the door, or the guy on the couch, or Emily in the back room tied to a chair. I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I noticed before it went black was the two wine glasses, one tipped over and smashed, the other full. 

Chelsea FC superstar, Amelia Scott-Higgins has QUIT mid season. 

CLICK TO READ MORE….

Where is football superstar Amelia Scott-Higgins?

Moving to Barcelona was the best thing I could’ve done. No one knows me,no one knows what happened or who Emily was. I am invisible. As soon as I could, I quit, left England, deleted all my social media and changed my number. 

The rehab was incredibly hard. That’s to be expected considering I have multiple stab wounds to my stomach, my leg cut up, bruises covering every part of my body. I was still me though. Maybe not on the surface but deep down I was. I missed Emily everyday, I missed our life together, I miss the little things. 

My apartment was empty. Nothing on the walls, plain furniture, it looked more like a show house than something someone would actually lived in. It didn’t bother me, it made my brain have to work less. All I did was rehab, surf and doom scroll. I came across the Manuelas instagram page, a gay bar in Barcelona. From what I’ve heard it’s incredibly popular but I’ve never been. They had a shirt available, “lesbian services”, after inquiring they allowed for me to pick it up. 

I was meeting someone called Olga, slightly worried as I had no idea who she was, I let it play out. 

“Hola! Are you Amelia?” 

“Hola, yes I am.” 

“Perfect! I’m Olga! Let me take you inside and you can get whatever you want. They said you’ve paid so you can get anything.” 

Stickers, hats, shirts, they had it all. I grabbed one of everything and then had a chat with Olga. 

“You’re not around here are you? Your Catalan and Spanish is good but the accent is a bit weird.” 

“Oh nah. I’m Australian. Lived in London for a few years but I’m here now.” 

“Oh wow! How long have you lived here?”

“3 years now. It’s beautiful. I don’t get out much but I’m trying to get out more.”

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Uh um, I used to play -“ 

“Amelia? Is that you?” Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze. Right in front of me. I haven’t seen them for 3 years, purposely ignoring all of them and essentially falling off the face of the earth. 

“Amelia! What are you doing here? Give me a hug!” 

“Hey guys. Long time so see.” This is not what I wanted. More and more people started surrounding us. 

“Holy shit. That’s Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s been MIA for so long. I miss watching her” the short one with dimples tried to whisper, it didn’t work. 

“Dude she used to be so good. What happened?” Her taller companion asked next. 

“That’s enough you two. She has ears and can hear you idiots.” Alexia Putellas. 2 time Ballon d’or and 2 time pain in my ass. “Hola Amelia. How are you?” 

“Fine thanks Alexia. And you?” 

“How do you all know each other? I am very confused here.” Olga spoke up. 

“Mil used to play for-“ Alexia started to say

“We are old friends!” This is why I don’t leave my house. 

“I need to go. I have things to do. Olga thank you so much for all this. If I owe any money let me know. Alexia, girls, it was nice to see you. Good luck this season.” Turning as quickly as I could to escape. 

“Milly, wait.”

“Kei, don’t. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Please can I have your number or something? It’s been 3 years and you disappeared.” 

“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in. I’m not good at replying. Bye Kei.” 

3 years since I stepped foot in England, 3 years since I buried my wife. 3 years since I’d spoken to my friends. 4 years since Emily died. 4 years since I played football, 4 years since I felt normal. 

[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.

[hyuckswoman]

alumnusbf!mark helping you study

pairing: alumnus mark (who’s also your bf) x reader

genre: fluff

summary: you’re stressing over this one subject until your bf appears

“fucking hell” you mutter, your finals were in a week and you were currently studying the subject you have been dreading since the beginning of the study period. Studying for exams was not fun. Especially when you had this gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that you were 100% going to fail.

markie

hey babe, you busy?

upon hearing the notification, you cursed at yourself as you swore you put your phone on do not disturb to avoid distractions .Yet here you were grabbing it to check the notification. turns out you did put your phone on do not disturb but since your boyfriend (who had to practically beg you to get removed off there texted you) was the origin of the notification, your phone still notified you.

being too lazy to write back, you just decided to call him

“hey, what’s up? I’m studying for my finals right now” you say after greeting him “oh really? I’m sorry to disturb then, how long have you been studying?” your boyfriend mark asks “hours. i literally had a full on mental breakdown studying the course because i suck at it and it feels like no matter how hard I study I just keep on failing” you say sighing “did you cry?” mark asks, maybe he knows you a little too well. “yea” you sigh yet again, it bothered you to see how big of a toll your academics were taking on you

“that’s a good thing then! wait no I don’t mean you crying is a good thing I meant it’s a good thing I’m on my way with food and stuff to give you a break” your boyfriend says making you laugh “mark, look I really truly appreciate it but I also really need to study” you say. honestly seeing how fucked you were because of this one course you couldn’t allow any distractions, and lord knows mark was a pretty big one

“no I know, we’ll just eat and then I’ll help you study. trust when I’ll leave you’ll be back in your academic weapon antics” mark says. after weighing your options (not that you had much of a choice seeing as though he was already on his way) you figured that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you had the chance of having a boyfriend who already graduated which meant he already passed this course so maybe it’d actually help

“hi babe, i brought food” your boyfriend says, you were glad you had a boyfriend that supported your big backed antics. “i might make you my male wife at this point” you said as he hugged you. you guys then decided to turn on the tv and put a show none of you cared about for the sole purpose of having some background noise.

“okay, we’ve been slacking off for long enough, let’s get to studying now” your boyfriend says. you almost forgot about your finals for a second.

“okay, we’re done making the flash cards, quiz time” mark says quietly laughing upon seeing your face. “every right answer you get, i’ll kiss you” he says finding a way to motivate you as you looked like you were on the verge of dying. “I don’t think it helps, you distract me too much. i’ll probably only remember the kisses and not the actual class material” you reply. As much as it didn’t look like it you were seriously (for once) in the mood to study, you couldn’t let this pretty man distract you no more.

a short while after you were thrown over your desk defeated because what do you mean you only got like half the questions right???

“I don’t understand I’ve spent literal hours trying to memorize this shit I’m sick of it I just want it to be over” you sigh, this is the first time you’ve struggled this much over a school subject. usually being a bit above average doesn’t require you a lot of efforts so you never really tried that hard to pass your classes throughout the years. college beat the shit out of you tho!! you found yourself completely taken aback by the difficulty and you had to learn how to properly study throughout the years. if somebody asked you, you’d say you’ve got studying covered but seeing how this study session was going maybe you didn’t…

“I think you’re getting those wrong because you don’t understand this part” mark says patting your head as you mumble an ‘i know’. being the very considerate boyfriend he is, he then proceeded to explain the entirety of the material, dumbing it down whenever you looked up at him confused or when your eyebrows frowned a little too much. he also was so very patient, explaining the same things to you three different times as you had already forgotten what he said as soon as he moved on to another topic.

the dedication mark put into your academics was just too much for your heart to handle, you loved him so much and the fact he didn’t mind spending his evening studying with you instead of doing literally anything else warmed your heart. that’s why you didn’t have it in you to tell him you were getting gradually sleepier and were fighting your mind to stay awake because how could you when he looked so good concentrated trying to explain to you what you deem as the most incomprehensible subject ever.

“y/n? i feel like I’m losing your attention are you- oh.” mark says finally looking up from your study sheets seeing you asleep on your desk “pft, I didn’t know I was this boring damn” he laughs. since you were already in your pajamas and were in a position where the man could not carry you to bed he decided to gently shake you to wake you up “hm? I’m sorry I fell asleep markie, thank you for studying with me I love you. let me read the cards again to make sure I understand better” you say your voice a bit groggy “what? no go to sleep, nothing you read now will be effective just rest and sleep will take care of the memorizing for you” mark says preparing your bed for you “okay but only if you join me” you say already laying down under your covers “of course dude, let me put the things away and I’ll join you” mark says as he looks over to your half awake self that’s seemingly waiting for him

being in front of your final paper makes you realize even more how lucky you are to have mark in your life because you knew damn well that if the study session never happened you would have been shitting bricks internally crying over how much you don’t understand but now you got out of the final feeling confident you didn’t fail. you ran up to mark who was waiting for you to celebrate final period being over and he couldn’t help but mimic your immense grin as you told him how the final went better than what you had expected and thanked him for his help. He did refute by telling you it was all you and your mind but settled on taking a little bit of credit after you threatened him.

it was kinda crazy how mark made everything easy, every single thing without exception. looking at your boyfriend eating his meal you couldn’t help but smile thinking about how much you loved that man and how lucky you were to have him in your life.

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 2)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3122

(Part 1)

_________________________________________

“When you said you got me a t-shirt,” you sigh, once again adjusting the hem of the jersey Mor provided you. Notshirt; jersey. The bottom of the Velaris Bats uniform has been trimmed—startlingly low. Or is it cut too high; you wonder with a swallowed curse. The damned thing nearly shows off your entire midriff. “I thought you meant, like, a normal fucking shirt and not whatever this is.”

Mor scoffs, shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she weaves her way through the throng of people towards your seats. Her long strides in her black heels hard to keep up with. “That is a Mor Original, and I only made it cuter,” she huffs indigently, like your discomfort is the sole inspiration behind her “designs.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve allowed Mor to pick out your outfit, but it’s definitely going to be your last, you try to remind yourself. The handful of times you’ve thought this exact thing before is laughable, and you’ve never once remembered. She’ll continue to cut the hems of shirts and alter skirts into even shorter skirts until the end of time, probably.

She’s been the crafty type since you first met her. Anything that she could add personality to was subject for a good old shot of “Mor’s Touch:” clothing, home décor, even the cocktails she mixes—which often go from something as simple as a Dirty Shirley and turning it into a cherry-passionfruit with a hint of lime drink, mixed with tonic instead of Sprite and garnished with a frilly umbrella stuck through three Maraschino cherries because “one is simply not enough.”

You agree, and you’d never admit to your eccentric roommate that it’s the most delicious drink you’ve ever had. Goes down like lemonade and has you going from a corner-stander to someone in the center of the dancefloor in two drinks flat.

You wish you had one right about now to get you through the night.

Your mind wanders to Gwyn back at the dorms, wondering what she’s going to be getting up to tonight. You don’t need to wonder, you know how your red-headed roommate prefers to spend her nights, curled up on the couch beneath a thick blanket, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels within reach, and her laptop in her lap, creating fantasy worlds for her characters to live in some day.

A surge of pride for your roommate fills your energy tank. Sometimes people truly do find exactly what they were made for in life, and Gwyn was born to write. You’ve only read a few snippets she’s been willing to share, but you can’t fathom forming sentences the way she does, creating worlds and characters from her mind alone, seeing a vision in your mind so clear that it would be a crime not to share it with the world.

You’re not sure you’ve ever loved something that much, but Sports Medicine is pretty damn close. Psychology, is not.

You shiver as the cold of the arena hits the sliver of skin that’s exposed itself once again while you were taking a sip of your drink. Goosebumps pebble in response, coursing over the entirety of your body within seconds, causing you to shiver.

You should’ve fought Mor harder about bringing your jacket, but at least she left you sleeves, her shirt has been cut into a tank that hardly reaches the bottom of her ribs, and there’s a deep cut down the collar, creating a perfect ‘V’ that shows off her incredible tits.

You’d know, you’ve seen them before.

“Oh. My. Gosh. You two look so good,” a girl gushes, steps into you and Mor’s path, halting you from your first steps down the stairs to your seats. She’s chipper, a camera poised in her hands, the thick strap around her neck. He shiny, chestnut hair is braided into two tails, draped across her shoulders.

Behind her thin-framed glasses, her bright blue eyes sparkle with excitement as she peruses you and your roommate up and down, admiring your outfits.

“I told you,” Mor murmurs, elbowing you in the side before raising her voice to answer. “Thank you so much! I spent all day on these, and this one doesn’t appreciate my hard work at all. It’s a refreshing change of pace to hear a compliment instead of ‘Mor, don’t you think this is a little too much?’” You scrunch your nose at Mor’s terrible impression of you. Too nasally, too annoying.

The photographer laughs like it’s her full-time job, and you scowl.

Way to throw me right under that speeding bus, Mor.

“Do you mind if I take your picture for the team’s social media account? You two would make a great first slide in a carousel for school spirit,” she gets this faraway look in her eyes as if she’s picturing it now. “The interaction you’d get us,” she sighs dreamily. “I might even get promoted.”

You groan internally when Mor perks up even further. “I think I love you,” she blurts, pupils heart-shaped. “Do you want to sit with us? We have an extra ticket.” She’s bought one for Gwyn, hoping she would join in on this sporty girl’s night, but your other roommate had been adamant about her dislike of the sport, and had gotten a pass while you were dressed up like a doll and dragged out of the dorm.

The girl’s laugh is like a windchime, soothing and melodic. “I wish I could, but duty calls,” she waves her camera around in answer. “Maybe I’ll catch you at one of the after parties, though. Here, you can give me your Instagram and I’ll DM you after tagging you in the photos.”

She and Mor exchange socials and names. Feyre. It’s unique and suits her well.

After adding your own Instagram on her phone, you hand the phone back, posing with Mor. Of course, knowing your roommate as you do, it’s not just one picture that Feyre takes. They’re both beaming, and one picture turns into ten. Ten poses, nine sips of your drink because you don’t know what the hell else to do. Eight frantic smiles, seven internal sighs, and six side-eyes from passerby, trying to find their seats. Five giggles from friends, four embarrassed blushes, three warnings that you are so done with this, two people ignoring you, and one announcement overhead signaling the start of the game in a few minutes.

“So nice to meet you, Feyre,” Mor calls as you begin guiding her away. You have no clue where you’re going, but any movement closer to any empty seat is better than the photoshoot you just had in the middle of the walkway. With a parting smile at the photographer, Mor continues, like she’s all for standing there all night instead of supporting her cousin on the ice. “Message me!”

“Clingy, much?” You grunt at the poke to the arm that gets you.

“Oh, come on! It’s not like I’m going to replace you,” she scoffs with a brush of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. You swear, the guys sitting in the front row swoon. “Besides, you can never have too many friends. It’s not possible.”

You’re pretty sure it is possible to have too many friends, but you keep that thought to yourself. You suppose you have one more spot in your life for a friend, but if the pictures turn out terrible and are blasted on the Bat’s Instagram, that spot might disappear. You’re already feeling mortified enough from the public display of taking photos.

“Yeah, yeah,” is what you decide to go with. “Now, where are our seats?”

“I don’t like the look of that,” you mutter wearily, squinting to see what’s happening on the ice. You might not know anything about hockey, but you know malicious intent when you see it. It’s in the way that the Penguin’s player leans closer to the Bat’s center, nudging his shoulder as he speaks, his slimy grin growing with each jab.

The game’s been fun so far, much to your surprise. The crowd surrounding you is all for the team, chanting songs that you need to learn immediately because they’re so much fun. The music that blasts around the stadium during every break is on-point, not too old of songs and not too overplayed like at the one football game you’d been dragged to last year (also by Mor, but not because of a family member on the team, because of an entirely different member.)

“Is that my cousin?” She asks, brown eyes sharp as she examines the players. Their fronts are to you, no seeing the names painted across the back of their jerseys. You refrain from mentioning how Mor should at least know her own cousin’s number—since their written on the sleeves—but you keep that thought to yourself when her red painted nails tighten around the box of popcorn, crushing the flimsy cardboard. The strain of the muscle in her jaw matches the boy on the ice’s, you notice with a fleeing glance at your roommate.

Tension coils your gut. You find your fingers wrapping around the edge of the seat you’re perched in, gripping the bleachers so tightly that you swear you feel the cool metal warming and warping.

You’re not the only two who have noticed the shift in the moods of the players on the ice, parts of the crowd are beginning to rise from their seats, cheering growing from a low rumble to a thunder of screams, caws, and jeering.

The puck is barely a millimeter from the referee’s hand before sticks are thrown to the ice, gloves following as the two players slowly begin to circle each other. It looks like something out of an animal documentary: two predators about to snap at each other’s throats in a fight for the territory.

The anticipation of them going blow for blow lights a fire deep within your belly, your core perking up for attention.

You shouldn’t be thinking like this, shouldn’t get getting turned on by the idea of two boys about to knock each other’s teeth out. Should be thinking about your best friend’s cousin like this at all.

Shooting a guilty glance at your roommate, you breathe a soft sigh of relief that’s swallowed by the shouts of the crowd when you see that Mor hasn’t picked up on your sudden shift in mood—both mentally and physically.

All the players on the ice slide back to make room for the brawl that’s about to break out and a sick feeling bubbles in your stomach, almost overpowering the arousal as you wonder why no one is attempting to stop them.

There isn’t time to voice your concern, isn’t time to do anything except bolt to your feet with a gasp so harsh it sears your lungs when the Penguin’s player is the first to swing. Your heart is lodged in your throat, your breathing holding in your throat as you watch in anticipation. He lashes out with a curled fist so fast that by the time you blink, it’s over.

His hit doesn’t land.

There’s no time to feel the relief trying to rush through your veins because the Bat’s center is retaliating, throwing himself forward after swiftly dodging the attack. He grabs the other boy by the collar of his ice blue uniform and hauls him into his closed fist.

His opponents helmet goes flying off with the snap of his head backwards. He stumbles, but manages to stay upright, snagging a handful of the Bat’s jersey to try and steady himself.

You look to the benches flanking the ice, wondering why no one is joining the fray. It’s now that you realize it’s not that they don’t want to help their teammate who is quickly ducking away from another fist, it’s because they can’t.

There’s a boy standing nonchalantly, hazel eyes pinned on the scene before him. He looks eager almost, leaning so casually against his stick, chin propped on the edge of it like he’s watching the newest action movie from the best spot in the house.

Even the goalie seems to be unconcerned, taking the few moments he has to take a swig of water and adjust his helmet, squatting low and shooting side to side in his box, as if trying to keep limber for when the game resumes.

One of the refs is attempting to hold back a burly boy who seems much too large to be skating at all. His helmet has also been shucked off, revealing long, shoulder length wet hair that clings to his face and neck like a bee on honey. His gloves are abandoned on the ice too, and his stick has skidded to a stop upon hitting the sideboards nearby. You can’t make out the words he’s shouting, but with the feral grin you make out, you know they’re fighting words. With each bark he seems to be inching closer, like the full-grown man in the stripes trying to hold him back is nothing more than a soft breeze, and his is a twister barreling right through.

When he shakes his head, you catch sight of a bloodthirsty grin that has a shiver sliding up your spine. He’s enjoying this?

“Mor,” your worry tries to escape, only for the words to stick in your throat as more noises join the fight, loud as gunshots. Both the Bat’s and the Penguin’s players are rapping their hockey sticks against the boards separating their benches from the ice, war cries falling from their lips.

They’re all enjoying this.

“That is my cousin,” Mor screeches, her perfectly plucked brows pulled tight as she tries finally makes out the number on the back of the jersey that’s gripped so tightly in the offending players grip that you’re pretty sure the stitches are popping with the force. “Kick his fucking ass, Rhys!”

Casting a frantic look to your roommate, you realize that not even she seems to be fazed by the fact that her cousin is in the middle of a fight that could very seriously end badly, especially with the knives on the bottoms of their feet.

But, if everyone’s rooting for their player to win this battle, you can too.

As gruesome as the scene before you is, you wish you had a better seat, somewhere with a better viewpoint than all the way on the other side of the ice. You can’t to be able to hear the threats they’re growling at each other, your attention completely enraptured now that you’ve shoved your worry to the wayside.

With his newfound hold, the Penguin’s player strikes again, and this time, his hit slams across Rhys’ jaw. His head snaps to the side with the nasty hook and his helmet slips to the ice, the sound eaten up by the goading of the crowd.

They swing around, unsteady on their skates as each of the boys tries to topple the other over. You catch a glance at his face. It’s hard to see, and his shaggy black hair is splayed across his face like a spiderweb, keeping you from making out his features. You catch the blood dribbling down his chin, the anger etched in the clench of his jaw as he grits his teeth, managing to twist himself into a position where he has the upper hand on the Penguin’s player: a headlock.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Rhys pound his fist into the other boy’s face once, twice, three times before his opponent’s feet fall out from under him. Rhys releases his hold, allowing the boy to slip lamely to the ice.

“Atta boy, Rhysie,” Mor shouts, once again shoveling popcorn into her mouth with a grin so bright it could melt the ice in the rink before you. She turns to you, golden brown of her eyes glowing with excitement. “Our parents would be so proud.”

She turns back to the scene before you can voice your confusion on that statement, tucking away the information that if you win a fight in hockey, it’s a great accomplishment.

You watch Rhys as he’s escorted by referees who guide him towards the penalty box. He’s examining his knuckles, not caring that he’s abandoning his equipment as he goes, grimacing as the adrenaline begins to fade. He pokes at them, frowning at whatever he feels.

You pray they’re not broken.

The rest of the players seem to be getting back to the game, like one of their teammates isn’t being casted away on an island across the ice. Okay, so it’s just another bench and he’s not that far from them, but you’re shocked that this is the end of the fight, both players carted into separate timeout boxes away from their teams.

Rhys plops down on the bench, pulling a water bottle from a hidden holder, washing the blood from his knuckles before examining them for a second time. You watch him flex his fingers, twist his wrist this way and that. You can’t seem to keep your eyes off him, even with the game picking back up and Mor shouting cheers when the Bat’s manage to steal the puck right from the drop, carting it down the ice with a speed that rivals a racecar.

He must be satisfied with his examination because Rhys is throwing his head back, and it’s almost as if he’s squirting the water from the bottle directly onto you with the way that the apex of your thigh’s wet at the sight of him. He sips the water, holding the bottle a few inches from his face, and you watch the water cascade down his chin and over his throat, bobbing with each swallow. It mixes with the blood from his split lip and slides into the collar of his gear.

You swallow harshly, suddenly parched.

When he’s had his fill of the drink, he moves the bottle further back, using the spray to wash his hair away from his face, and your breathing shallows. It’s as if the hand he’s using to squeeze the life out of the bottle is constricting around your throat, because suddenly, you recognize the sharp of that jaw, the curve of those eyebrows and the straight of his nose. All his angular features come together in the perfect picture of hotness, knocking the breath fully from your chest when he straightens his chin, looking out onto the ice to watch his teammates score the last goal of the second period.

He's the boy from this morning: the overachiever, the one who called you darling.

Mor’s cousin.

Rhysand Cunningham.

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125

[cry4mina]

What You Need

(Pole!Dancing Momo x fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.4K

Light Angst/Smut

Summary: Momo has been locked in her studio for a week and a half despite your want for her attention. Little do you know, she’s been preparing a surprise for you.

TW: THIS IS MOSTLY FUCKING! Pole dancing, stripping, praise kink, Momo is a bottom (whaaaaaat), face fucking, fingering, and I’m unsure if i missed anything so just be aware of the sex.

A/N: The brain rot was real yall. A thank u to the secret contributor whomst helped me articulate words lmao anyway, DMs and asks are always open! Pls drink water and have a lovely day!

—

A long sigh leaves your lips while you lay down on the couch and scroll through your phone, switching between the same three apps before you huff again. You’re at home and so is Momo but she’s locked herself in her studio…again. Just like she had for the last week and a half.

Rolling over to one side and opening your messages, only to stare at the one you sent Momo an hour beforehand.

You: I miss you [9:45pm]

You: Can you come upstairs soon? :( [9:45pm]

Of course she didn’t reply. Scoffing in annoyance, you stand. Making your way to your shared bedroom and stripping down to just underwear on the way. Throwing your clothes in the laundry hamper, you stare into space. Bringing your hand up for a moment to wipe the sleep out of your eye momentarily.

It had been 3 hours since you’d seen her. Coming home in a whirlwind, throwing all her stuff to the ground before she kissed you and sped off to the basement studio. With no response to your previous message, you decide to send another.

You: I’m going to bed…let me know when you have time for me, I guess. [10:46pm]

A little passive aggressive for you, sure, but she knew how you’d been feeling. A conversation was had a few days ago about how you felt like she had been held up in the studio and not really spending time with you outside of coming to bed at 3am only to wake up at 8am and leave for her schedule. She said she understood and assured you it would all be worth it in the end…but you missed her.

Slipping into one of her oversized shirts that smelled like her with only panties on underneath, you wash your face and brush your teeth when your phone vibrates on the counter.

Mo: Please don’t go to sleep yet! [10:51pm]

Mo: I have something I want to show you! [10:51pm]

Mo: Give me 10 minutes and then come down to the studio, okay? I love you. [10:52pm]

Spitting the sweet minty toothpaste out and rolling your eyes, you start your skin care routine. Washing your face, dabbing on serums, the whole nine before you head through the living room. Passing the kitchen and head down the steps to the door of the soundproof room added on to the original house after purchase.

This wasn’t a space you ever felt like was yours so you rarely went inside. You remember her having it built into the house before you both moved in together. Only having seen it one time, to view the finished product all decorated and sparkling new.

Momo, of course, stayed with you when the construction workers were in and out of her house for the better part of 4 months. Sleeping in the same bed every night, cooking dinner together, date nights more frequently, having the dogs around, it was all such a dream that strengthened the already strong relationship.

The day the room passed inspection, she took the dogs and went home, worried about being in your space for that long. Not wanting to be a bother. She was always so kind and respectful but the silence of the house without their presence didn’t feel right. Momo called you right as you went to call her that night.

“Hey, uhm…I know it’s late but…I can’t fall asleep…the bed seems too…”

“Empty?”

“You feel it too?…Hey, would you- uhm… Do you want to com-”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” interrupting the sentence before she could finish, beaming at the thought of sleeping next to her another night.

She asked you the next morning while you were tangled in the sheets, cuddling, if you wanted to move in together. You agreed with no hesitation.

Nothing compared to waking up to her everyday. You were missing that part the most as you reminisce on the memories. Sure, it hadn't been that long of a time, but the person who couldn’t fall asleep without you (and the person you couldn’t sleep without) was apparently too wrapped up in whatever was in that studio to be bothered to come to bed. Or hang out on the couch. Or spend any quality time with you.

Even with this, you respected her space. Trying not to be intrusive with her busyness and not going into the studio unless you were invited.

A little intimidated by the unfamiliarity of the room, you turn the knob and quietly take a step before closing the door lightly behind you. The walls are covered in white sheets, opening the space up, with the exception of a few mirrors that were strategically placed along the curtains.

Oak hardwood flooring really brought the brightness of the room together. A small couch and a chair sitting right in front of a silver pole that is bolted into the ground and ceiling beam.

Oh.

Blush covers your cheeks when you realize the purpose of that pole. Walking over to it and grabbing with your hand, you swing around on it, trying to hold your weight up to see how many times you can spin.

A small giggle can be heard through the sheets as Momo reveals herself from behind the curtain. Momo always admired your playfulness. Being able to match her energy was one of the many reasons she fell in love with you in the first place.

You hear the sound of heels against the flooring when you stop yourself from using the pole as a jungle gym, whipping your head towards the noise to see your loving girlfriend…in black thigh high pleasures with clear heels and soles and a black lace lingerie set you had never seen before.

Breath leaves your lungs immediately, you can’t help but gawk at her. Almost drooling, taking in her figure, eyes tracing every single part of her frame, up and then down and back up again. Forgetting to blink completely, absolutely overwhelmed with lust.

Momo smirks at you, running her hands through her hair and letting it fall back into place, slightly lifting her head to expose her neck a little more causing even more of a reaction between your legs.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Sashaying towards you, hips fully swinging as she approaches. She wraps her arms strategically on your torso, pressing her body into you. Melting together seamlessly even with the drastic height difference, your hands around the back of her neck when she leans down into you, bringing her lips close to your ear.

“So, you just want some quality time then?” muttered through the tension created in mere seconds. The act sends the warmest chill down your spine and a trickle of neediness onto the fabric of your underwear.

Nodding your head softly and biting your lower lip, any frustration you had disappeared in that moment with the way she guided you back towards the chair. Using her legs to ease you backwards, still holding onto your waist before gently pushing you into the seat she placed right in front of her stage.

Eye level with her waistband, you stare shamelessly at her abs, leaning into press your lips lightly on her stomach while looking up at her, eye dilating as you feel the goosebumps on her skin rise and her breath to cease.

A long exhale and a shutter as she lays her palm flat on your chest, pushing you back against the chair hard enough for the front legs of it to lift a few centimeters off the ground. A warning to let her continue with her plan.

She towers over you, hair framing her face casting the most delicate shadows. She unlocks her phone, swiping up and tapping a few times before tossing it onto the couch that’s against the back wall of the room.

The lights dim and music played low enough to hear the sound of her heels clicking against the wood. The song was hazy, alluring, and unfamiliar, not that you paid any mind to it at all. You are focusing solely on Hirai Momo, who is preparing to give you the show of a lifetime.

Your show.

All for you.

Momo takes a few languid steps around the pole, circling it enough to gain a little momentum before lifting herself up and using her weight to rotate the pole, showing off a variety of different poses as she watches your reactions, giggling at the way you gripped the arms of the chair in desperation.

Pulling herself up and holding onto the metal with her thighs and a single hand, she spins slowly while leaning back, letting her fingers trail between her tits. She falls into her well practiced routine. Her grace and agility intertwining and creating this seductively sensual display of pure strength had you absolutely weak.

Of course, you were very familiar with her body, but you had no idea that this was something she even had interest in utilizing all that muscle for.

A surprise indeed.

Your soft, fluffy, bottom girlfriend was using her body to dance for you in a way you never thought she would. Swinging herself in a way so calculated and so suggestive that it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.

It’s almost as if she’s grinding against the pole to taunt you. You’re staring at her attentively, burning holes into her flesh with every second your eyes lay on her. Dripping and clenching around nothing, shifting yourself in your seat to grind down a little and feel some form of stimulation.

The temperature rises within you, leaning back into the chair again to watch your girlfriend closely and see every muscle shifting and flexing. Her arms tensing through her movements makes your mouth and pussy drool for her in tandem.

Momo makes eye contact with you while upside down, legs holding her up on the pole. She slides down quickly, stopping herself before she hits the floor. Momo pulls herself up, swinging her legs around, you hear her knees clammer against the hardwood.

Breath hitching at the intimate display, clenching around nothing as she crawls towards you. So many filthy, vile thoughts race through your mind as her hands slither up your thighs, tracing the hem of your underwear, just to tease.

Gulping harshly as she uses your thighs to lift herself into a standing position. She places a finger under your chin and lifts it so your eyes connect again, lust blown eyes seer your vision. Canceling out everything but her.

Momo leans down teasingly close to your lips. Mouth chasing after hers in an attempt to meld together in an act of desperation. She’s sure to pull away but continues to stay close enough to keep you in her grasp. That devilish smirk paints itself on her face before she turns around, exposing her bare ass to you through her thong.

Oh, fuck.

Momo lowers herself onto your lap, slowly rolling her hips to the rhythm of the song. Your hands have a mind of their own, traveling up to her hips, taking in the texture of the lace and how it hugged her skin so perfectly.

A soft moan can be heard over the song playing. Momo’s hands fly to the thin arms of the chair to keep her level, rutting her hips a little harder onto you.

She lifts herself off you slowly, turning around to place her hands on the arms of the chair again, leaning over you as her arms squeeze her breast together with a very specific intention in mind.

Momo strategically places one of her legs between your knees before you go to cross them. She knew you'd have a hard time keeping still through her choreography. She wanted your face covered desperation and you dripping out of pure need for her touch. Completely at her mercy.

“You should take these off” hooking her fingers into your waistband to let you know it wasn’t a request. Sliding your underwear off hastily, tossing them out of view and finally connecting your lips.

Hungrily reaching out for her, practically losing yourself in her, your movements mirror each other's passion. Lips fused together, erratically fumbling through the open mouthed kissing and steamy lap dance.

Momo tries to kneel down in front of you, catching her before her knee can hit the ground and tugging her thong down to her ankles.

“I was enjoying that lap dance…” purred into her mouth.

“Maybe you should…keep going”

She kicks off her underwear and straddles your thigh letting you feel how much she wanted this. How much she wanted you.

This might have been her stage, but this was your show.

Her hands creep around your shoulders, pulling you tightly into her chest. The familiar scent of peaches and vanilla slowly eases any unwelcome tension. Your hands are on her hips when you pull her closer. Dragging her wet pussy across your thigh as you flex and coerce a groan from her.

“What was that?” teasingly inquiring, pushing her back just to slide her forward again. This time, a little rougher than before.

Momo clutches herself to you, resting her head on your shoulder while you set the pace for her to continue on. She whimpers into you, continuing to rut her hips on you while you mess with the clasp attached to her bra, undoing it quickly to expose her chest.

“Fuck, please…” whispered, removing the last of her lace leaving her in only those black thigh high pleasers.

Laying perfectly placed kisses down her neck until you reach her chest, taking one of her nipples in your mouth, rolling it around and flicking it with your tongue. Being unable to remove your hands from her, sliding one around her lower back and the other reaching for the boob that has had no attention, completely immersing her in your touch.

Music still haunts the background as Momo’s slick saturates your thigh, feeling it drip down the sides of your leg makes the knot in your stomach build. You wanted her so badly, you needed her, and craved the closeness she was finally giving to after what felt like years.

Removing your mouth from her nipple with a pop and ravenously bringing your lips up to hers, returning to the deep depths of lust that both of you were submerged in.

Scooting her backwards off your knee, you place a hand on her inner thigh, giving her the signal to spread her legs apart enough to straddle you. Lips never parting each other, tongues still intertwined through the waltz done out of pure need.

Her hand weaves through your hair on the back of your head, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip before playfully tugging on it and letting go. The pressure of her teeth causes you to moan, cunt dripping onto the chair the heated moment was taking place in.

“How badly do you want it, baby?” Momo’s hips buck at the question, you already know the answer but watching her squirm and beg for it was a delicacy on its own.

“Please…I need you. Please. Touch me.” desperately whimpered between her ragged breathing.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” You’re trying to play it off collected, even with a flushed face and the light movement of your own hips against hers.

Running your hands up her thighs, she leans into you exposing her neck. A silent ask. Open mouth kisses trailed up from her collar bone to her jaw. She’s panting at the gliding of your hands, up and down her thighs in deliberately slow, steady movements. Allowing your hands to dip between her legs and graze over her cunt.

An intense gasp is let out from her perfectly plump lips.

“There! Touch me there. Please, baby…I- I need to f- fuck -feel you”

“Good girl. You’re always so perfect for me.” a drop of her slick falling onto the chair into the puddle of your own as your hand approached her core.

Middling finger sliding up and down her absolutely soaked slit, just to tease her. Being sure to put the slightest pressure on her entrance and eliciting the most vile sound from her. She immediately tries to slam herself down on your fingers.

“Inside…I need you inside…fuck, baby, please!” her hands grip your face, fingers tightening around your lower jaw. Panting as she forces eye contact.

“Look at what you do to me, darling…oh, fuck” losing the grip on your chin and letting her hand trail down your chest, tugging in the sweater chasing your hand with her hips.

“Can’t you feel how much I want you?” mouths connecting passionately through the begary displayed.

Momo’s nails dig into your shoulders through the fabric of her stolen sweater when your teeth find her neck, biting down and entering soaking pussy with a single finger. Palm against her clit so she has something to grind into as you curl your fingers up, hitting her g-spot perfectly.

“Fuck…f- feels so g-good…need -oh my god- more…” jerking her hips to get more stimulation.

Pulling out momentarily to add another finger, she grabs your shoulders harder, using your palm to accentuate the build up of her orgasm.

Bites and hickeys lay across her chest which is heaving unevenly, spilling grunts and groans at the touch of your finger tips. Wetness coats your entire hand, continuing to thrust into her while using your hips as leverage to hit just a little deeper into her.

“I’m gonna cum! -Fuck, please-...c- can I cum?” Panted through her whines. She starts losing control of her movements, attempting to keep herself off the edge until you say that it’s time for her to release.

“Princess, you want to cum?” whispered softly to her, slowing your strokes with each word stated.

“And what if I’m not done with you?” removing your hand from inside of her.

Lifting her while holding her thighs, she crosses her legs around you. Making out while you turn, placing her down lovingly in the chair that she had originally set up for you. kneeling down in front of her.

Momo is half awestruck and half feral when she sees you rip her sweater off you, leaving you both completely naked. You yank her to the edge of the seat and bury your fingers deep inside her cunt again with no warning.

Moaning into the air, lifting her legs on your shoulders, the latex grips against your skin, almost anchoring her in place. Your mouth travels up her thighs with soft gentle pecks and light bites. Momo’s inner thighs coated in the dew drops of yearning, humming into the love bites as your tongue dances to sample her flavor before devouring her.

One long lick up her pussy before immediately attacking her clit. Her hands fly up and grip your hair, the overstimulation causing sweet moans and curses to reverberate off the walls.

“Right there right there right there, please -fuck- oh my god” her hips gyrating into your mouth, the neediness becoming more aggressive, returning to the edge of ecstasy.

“Tell me, princess. Does my good girl want to cum for me?.” Locking you into place with her legs and pulling you closer to her.

“Please, fuck, right fucking there unghh” the wet squelching sounds her pussy was making for you had you close to cumming untouched, knot tighten at every pump into her.

Her body tenses underneath you, grip tightening in your hair while she writhes under your touch. Unwilling to let go of her, you keep curling your fingers and refuse to stop your tongue from spiraling around her now very sensitive clit.

Momo’s face is beat red, hair sticking to her neck and forehead and panting in patterns that mimic hyperventilation. She pushes your forehead from her before finally relaxing her body into the chair.

A smile creeps across your face, being sure she’s watching you lick the remnants of her cum off your fingers. You shimmy her legs off your shoulders and the sound her heels hitting the floor almost startles her out of her post-orgasm haze.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby.” lovingly placing a hand on her cheek before standing and taking a step towards where the pile of clothes was. A tightness encompasses your wrist, pulling you back to Momo.

The devilish glint in her eyes catches you off guard. Squatting down next to her as she still catches her breath, you take her hand and sweep a piece of hair off her forehead.

“You doing okay, honey? Do you need anything?” All she can do is smile through her breathless state.

“That was not how I planned this!” chuckling and fixating on your naked figure crouching next to her.

“Stand up.” halfway barked at you.

Not being one to usually take demands, you stay right where you are. Momo glares into your soul, unable to make you do what you’re told. She rolls her eyes and with a pensive face, rethinks her approach.

Watching the light bulb go off in her head was almost perplexing. What was she going to do? Her pupils dilate as she slinks to the floor next to you. She positions herself on her knees facing you.

“Use my face, baby” sticking her tongue out and angling her head up.

You slingshot up so fast you almost fall over. Catching your balance quickly enough for her not to notice and position your cunt right above her tongue.

So this is how she can get you to listen to her?

She takes the moments to lick the slick off your thighs, trailing her tongue up before laying it flat across your aching core.

Momo grabs your hand and places it on the back half of her head. You weave your fingers into her hair and use her in any way you want.

“Fuck” leaves your lips. Smearing your slick across her mouth like you’ve never had her tongue on you. Frivolously using her like your own personal toy.

She moans into you, vibrations sending you into a spiral of pleasure. Hips grinding harder down onto her warm tongue, you are unable to keep yourself together for longer than a few seconds, untethering completely into a lust driven state.

Feral was an understatement. The ache in your stomach clenching tight for so long and threatening to release every time you skim across her lips.

Momo’s hands grip your hips enough to stop you, a hand slipping between your legs. Her mouth attaches to your clit and her tongue starts circling. Two fingers easily penetrate you, adding another form of pleasure into the already passionate moment.

“Oh my fucking god…Momo, fuck” whimpering down at her.

Arrogant glimmer in her eyes sparkle while the pattern of circles spirals on, fingers curling up and quicken in pace.

Dripping down her chin and hands, you’ve lost all control. Euphoria creeps in, sprinkling tiny bursts of heat through your skin.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum…hmmmph- oh shit, I’m gonna fucking cum!”

A flash of warmth throughout your body as you clench around her fingers, aggressively thrusting your hips. Muscles tensing involuntarily, moaning loudly and holding your breath as you cum into your girlfriend's mouth.

Gasping for air and trying to keep your balance was challenging. Struggling to keep your legs locked as she continued to lick and suck, no matter how sensitive you already were.

Wet fingers come behind your thighs to keep you up and stable, nail gripping you as she locks you into place above her. A devious look smeared across her face with your cum, continuing to harshly suck and lick into you.

The overstimulation is causing an erratic need to keep going, almost painful, twitching at every pass of her tongue.

“Hurts so good” hissed between the heavy breathing and groans of ecstasy.

Momo aggressively slurps and siphons every ounce of tension out of you. Forcefully eating her dessert while it gripped her hair and praised her. Smiling into your cunt as she ripped another aggressive orgasm from your body.

Trembling above her as she holds you up, she’s smitten with herself as you twitch and convulse by her hands and mouth.

Reaching around and sliding the chair behind you before you fall down. The powerful jolt of endorphins she coaxed out of you reeling throughout your body once more, sending you backwards into the chair as you heaved and tried to regulate your breathing.

A grin crawls across Momo’s beautiful face gazing up at you. Zippers unzipping and the clunk of heavy shoes against wood snap you back from the fucked out daze you were in.

Sighing heavily, craning your neck over to see her standing next to you with her hand out towards you.

“Time for bed?” Questioning while closing her fist and opening it again, to non verbally ask for your hand.

A soft smile paints itself on your face, lazily throwing your hand into hers before closing your eyes again.

“Did I wear you out? Come on, baby.” Tugging your arm playfully and giggling at how successful her plan was.

Groaning as she pulls, you stand up and take a step, legs still shaking from exhaustion. Smooth soft skin hits your calf and your lower back as you’re picked up bridal style.

Nuzzling into her neck as she carried you out of the studio and to your shared bedroom. Laying you down in your spot on the bed and tucking you in before taking a half a step away.

Whining out to her without opening your eyes, you put your arms up for her to crawl into. A fluttery laugh is heard from the end of the bed when you feel the covers shift again.

A warmth fills your chest and sinks you into such a relaxed state as Momo crawls over top of you, finding her place by your side and cuddling into you. Her arm around your torso and her nose buried into your neck.

“I love you, y/n. I’m sorry if I’ve been absent these past few days…I just wanted to surprise you.” A hint of sadness in her tone takes you a little off guard. She would never intentionally make you feel ignored or unimportant.

“I love you too, honey. I was grateful for that surprise. Please do that whenever you want!” Reassuring her that everything was just fine and you two were perfect, as usual.

You feel her smiling into your skin before she pecks your neck softly a few times before snuggling into you further. Her deep even breaths followed shortly as she lulled into a peaceful sleep, with you not too far behind.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Part two of this fucking thing

‘Say no.’ The last words that Rio uttered echoed within your mind, only getting louder when you opened the door, only to be greeted by Agatha and some random teenager that she must’ve forced along with her.

‘Hello dearie!’ Agatha said cheerily but deep down you knew it was forced as everything within you was telling you to trust the beautiful woman from the night before, to trust her and that you’ll be safe from whatever that may lie ahead of you from here on out. You took offence to needing to be protected but whatever that woman wanted you to say no to was more dangerous than you could ever hope to imagine.

‘Say no!’ Rio’s voice echos louder this time, almost as though she was standing next to you as a weirdly demented guardian angel.

‘Hello Agatha, who’s this.’ You gestured to the tall teen next to her but she waved her hand before he could open his mouth to speak, instead resting her hand on your shoulder, welcoming herself and her estranged companion into your house and home without invitation.

‘No one of importance, yet at least.’ She tells you with a chuckle and you couldn’t help but look back at the kid who was staring at you starstruck, looking away only when he noticed that you were looking back at him. Did you know him from anywhere? No, you didn’t. You couldn’t remember much after Wanda’s hex nor even beyond that, but all you knew was that you babysitter her twins on serval occasions and that was all you were made to do, nothing more nothing less.

Yet if Rio was saying about you in her outburst was true, there maybe more to yourself then you originally thought, and seeing her so distraught that you thought of yourself as just a regular nobody only made you even more curious as to who it was that you were to her, but the problem was that you didn’t have any known ways of reaching her.

‘I got broken into last night.’ You blurted.

‘I’m sorry to hear that dearie-‘ Agatha began but you continued. ‘She said somethings that I thought were the ramblings of a madwoman,’ you looked straight at Agatha, who knew exactly who you were talking about and took her hand of your shoulder as though you burnt her and looked about the room as though Rio was going to appear once more. ‘She told me to say no.’ You finished.

‘Who?’ Teen asked. He couldn’t read your thoughts, they were…empty…quiet just like they were in the hex. It was a peace he’d never known but there was something’s that didn’t add up with your character.

You shrug. ‘A woman with dark hair, wielding a dagger and she had magic. I must’ve touched a nerve when I told her that I was nothing special.’

Agatha and teen looked at each other before looking at you. They knew something you didn’t but you didn’t have to wait long to get the answers you wanted. ‘Strange. I was attacked by the same woman.’ Agatha began. ‘She told me to leave you out of this, out of my plans and my…influence.’ She tells you as she shows you the injury near her collar bone. ‘Still overprotective of her little flower it seems.’ She adds under her breath.

‘What are you talking about, stop speaking in riddles about me and talk straight!’ You exclaimed.

‘If you want straight answers, ask a straight person,’ Agatha replied but you didn’t look amused and once again the smile on her lips dropped as she groaned. ‘I don’t have time for your amnesia story line! Will you join me on the witches road and regain your memories or not.’ She finally says what she’s been meaning to say the entire time.

Agatha knew Rio would be pissed if she saw you on the road, might even kill her in that case but she needed you on this road, you’ve been powerless and pathetic for far too long when she knows who you truly are! She wanted that version of you back and knows that deep down you are equally as desperate to get everything that was taken from you back, by force or whatever means necessary.

‘What do you say?’ Teen then asks, curious to your response himself as from what he could gather, you were quite the important figure in both Agatha and Rio’s lives once upon a time; especially so if they’re this desperate to get you to wake up.

SAY NO!

‘Yes. I’ll join.’

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo learning that his s/o's ex wants to get back together with her?

“Who’s that?” Satoru asked when he saw [Y/N] look at their phone and then put it back down.

“It’s nobody.”

Which was all Satoru needed to know who it actually was.

He and [Y/N] had been dating for a while now. It was still casual but getting more serious. They had known each other from years ago when they were still in school. [Y/N] going off into the ‘real world’ for a while like Nanami before inevitably coming back like they all did. Satoru had liked them since they were in school, so he was happy when they decided to come back and he could have another shot at them & their happiness together. Now that he wasn’t some faux jaded kid going on and on about how ‘feelings were for weaklings’. Now he was really jaded, and aware that feelings made you stronger, not weaker, in the grand scheme.

However, a few weeks ago [Y/N] started getting text messages from an old partner who seemed to also want another shot at happiness with them. They told Satoru what was going on, but no more than that. Now, they wouldn’t even make a comment on it. Just ignore it and move on. It was just a little hard to ignore when it was happening right in front of him.

“Do you want to get another cup before we head out?”

“Nah.” Satoru told them as he leaned back in his seat. His long legs sticking out. “If I have anymore I’ll start vibrating. Want me to get you another iced tea though?”

[Y/N] nodded with a smile and Satoru went to go get them a refill and pay the bill. When he came back, drink in hand, he saw [Y/N] was talking to someone on the street. They had just appeared next to their sidewalk table, it seemed, and [Y/N] did not seem happy with their presence. He slowed down to listen in on their conversation, debating on if he should step in.

“Are you following me?” [Y/N] asked.

“What? No. Just on Instagram.” They hiss through their teeth at the stranger’s answer, but they keep talking. “You haven’t returned my calls. I wanted to see you.”

“The not returning your calls should have been the hint.” [Y/N] told them. “I’m not interested in talking to you. Or getting back together, since that’s probably where this conversation is going.”

“You’re not even going to talk to me about it!” Their ex reached out and grabbed [Y/N]’s arm, and Satoru had to remember that the cup in his hand was very fragile.

[Y/N] batted their hand away with a glare and told them, “I don’t owe you anything. You certainly didn’t want to talk about it with me when you left me all of a sudden and wouldn’t return my calls.” They remind them. “Now, I’m here with someone. Someone I care about. So can you just leave and stop calling me. Even if I was single now, I would not be interested. This is the last time we’re going to have a conversation.”

The ex seemed fit to want to argue but sighed in defeat and left. Their shoulders looking like they might hit the ground if they sunk any lower. “Your tea, m’laday.” Satoru announced, after giving it a minute, as he returned to the table.

[Y/N] turned to him. Smiling, but not as bright as it usually was, and took their cup. “Thank you Satoru.”

“You know, I was thinking.” He helped [Y/N] up to their feet by offering them a hand, smiling down at them. “It’s a little too crowded out here for me today. Why don’t we go back to my apartment and watch a movie there, instead of the theater.”

“But…I thought you wanted see that new one…” [Y/N] seemed surprised but looked secretly hopeful. Clear that they didn’t want to be out in case their ex changed their mind and tried again, but not wanting to tell Satoru what just happened.

“Eh. I changed my mind.” Was all he said and was already walking them out of the café perimeter down the block to his place.

He wouldn’t tell them that he saw what had happened, but he also wasn’t going to risk it happening again either. Satoru showed remarkable restraint earlier. The cup in [Y/N]’s hand now was not actually the original one, and their ex was lucky that that was all that had been crushed that afternoon.

[alice-everafter]

"This is so exciting! I've never had a sleepover before!"

Kalim is practically glowing, even among the darkened shadows of his bedroom. The moon itself seems to be drawn to him, lighting up the red of his eyes and white of his teeth. His hair shines like the finest of silks while his skin looks like it might feel as such.

He's the picture of affluence and care lying underneath his all too expensive sheets. And you're just sort of there, with him, in his bed.

What started out as a nonconsensual sleepover has since morphed into a consensual, nonconsensual sleepover. Being held captive in Scarabia certainly wasn’t originally part of your winter vacation plans, but neither was dimension hopping. And look at you now. A dimension hopper and a Scarabia captive.

Much like dimension hopping, Kalim is an unstoppable, otherworldly force to be reckoned with. He had been so welcoming when you first met. Pulling you this way and that, giving you food to try and games to play. Smiling so wide it put the sun to shame. Showing you the sky like no one else ever had before. Until something had changed and you found yourself in the shadow of an elephant as it marched you and the rest of the dorm through a desert. Trying your best to stave off heat exhaustion.

You have your theories, of course you did. You don't stop three overblots and not see the signs. But there's something more to this. Call you paranoid but you kind of had the right to be. There was something more to Kalim's situation than what Jamil said it was.

Now, you could help, like you always do. But Grim was insistent, and you could still remember your struggle under the blaze of heat. Besides, it was better to regroup and save face than rush headlong into things with just a feeling to guide you.

You planned to escape in the night when Kalim would be asleep. So call you surprised when he came to you with panic set deep into the usually cheerful lines of his face. And against all greater judgement, you knew you'd hear him out right then and there.

Which brings you to the now, laying side by side with him in his bed. Hoping that Jamil never finds out you’re here. Else you’ll probably never wake up to see tomorrow.

“Do siblings count?”

“Huh?” You blink back to yourself and meet Kalim’s questioning gaze.

“Does it count if you have sleepovers with your siblings? Cause I’ve definitely done that before!”

Kalim grins and it’s all teeth, like usual. Your chest tightens like you’ve just seen the cutest animal on planet earth— wonderland.

You knew right then and there that you’d probably never be able to say no to this boy. Well, in this moment, that is.

“It counts as long as you say it does.”

“Hmm,” he seems to think on that. Pursing his lips, eyes downturned. “Well, in that case, I don’t want it to.”

“What?” Your expression pinches and you choose to ignore the brief flare of anxiety in your chest. “You don’t want it to?”

“Yeah,” he gazes back up with a new twinkle in his eyes. “Cause I want my first sleepover to be with you, Prefect!”

…Oh god, you’re gonna have a heart attack from goodness overload. Tell Crowley to prepare you one of those emo coffins.

"Prefect?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Your voice is muffled where it's squashed into a pillow. You feel like you've just eaten a lemon with the way your face is currently squeezed up and contorted. "Thanks Kalim, means a lot."

"Nya hah hah! You're so funny." Kalim pats your shoulder as he laughs.

When you're certain you're no longer choking on his purity and looking like you're two steps past constipated, you chance a look up. Kalim is smiling, soft and relaxed, like he should be. You almost don't want to break the peace, but he asked you to come here for a reason.

"Um, you mentioned something in the hall. Something about your memory?"

His expression drops and your stomach soon follows. You're already mentally kicking yourself before he responds.

"Yeah, it's..." He seems to shrink in on himself, curling over on his side and drawing his knees up. "It might just be nothing, ya know? I might just be overreacting about the whole thing, so don't worry about it, Prefect. Really, I'm fine—"

You reach out before you can think better of it, taking his hand in yours. It's warm and soft, just like silk, like you thought it might. The action shocks him and you very nearly pull back when the realization of what you did dawns on you. Then his fingers close around yours in a grip that makes your heart lurch.

"It's obviously not nothing." You squeeze his hand, hoping to communicate all that you wouldn't be able to. "You... You don't seem very ok, Kalim. What's wrong?"

His lip quivers and that's all the warning you get before pearlescent tears are spilling down his cheeks.

He hiccups, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be crying. It's not worth it, but..."

It only takes one shuddering sob for you to pull him close. You clutch him to your front, letting his misery muffle itself into your shoulder. You keep hold of his hand while you cradle the back of his head in the other, mainly because his grip has turned something fierce. Like he's scared to let go of you.

You don't say anything, just let him cry into your shirt. Feeling his tears dampen the fabric, his body shake against you. Holding him as tightly as you can until he raises his head enough to be heard.

"T-There are spots," he begins, "in my memories, that are gone..."

"Gone?" The confession is beyond what you thought it'd be, but you're used to that after being at Nightraven for this long. "Gone how?"

"I don't know." He sounds miserable and it breaks your heart even more. "But I just can't remember what I do sometimes."

"Which is normal! Y-You normally don't remember what you have for breakfast the day before o-or, what you did three days ago." He sniffles and you realize his arm has wrapped around you. He's currently clenching the fabric of your shirt in a shaky fist at your lower back.

"But," he goes quiet. In an effort to encourage him, you soothe a hand down his back. Hesitantly at first but growing in confidence when he starts to untense just the slightest. "It's like I blink and... I'm no longer where I was. I wake up, go to breakfast, blink, and then it's dinner."

"I-I mean, a few days ago, we were having so much fun. But then, even you..!" His words break over a strangled whimper and he clutches you ever so tighter.

"Me what? What did I do, Kalim?" There is dread building in your gut. Whether it's for you or for him doesn't matter, you just want it to stop. "If I hurt you, I'm so sorry. I—"

"You were scared of me! I saw it!" The admittance flies from his lips and all but strikes you. "You looked at me like they all do! Like I'm a step away from exploding! Even now I can tell you're scared and I hate it! I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone! But what if I... am? W-What if I'm hurting everyone and I don't even remember it? I'd never forgive myself if I was h-hurting my friends. A-And I know I'd never want to b-but, the more you all look at me like... like t-that, the more I start to think that I am. That I'm a bad person—"

"It's ok."

He's gasping for breath, coughing around the build up in his throat. He holds you rigidly, gripping your hand so hard your bones are starting to protest but you'd never dream of telling him to let up.

"It's alright, it'll be ok."

You never did stop the motion of your hand. It continues to drag up and down the line of his spine. Feeling his shoulders jerk with every sharp intake. Wishing more than anything that you could wipe away the pain from his trembling form. Wanting to give him the same warmth he gave you on that carpet in the sky.

"We'll figure it out, Kalim, I promise."

You're not certain of a lot of things, not since you'd been dragged here. To this world, this school, this dorm. But in this moment, you are.

"It's not your fault. You're not a bad person."

[shrewsburysworld]

Twisted Devotion | Kim Taehyung (m) Part 1.

*This is a fan fiction. completely fictional. The behaviour of characters in this fiction is not something to emulate. You are responsible for your own consumption. Thank you.*

*This is original work. Do not copyright*

Pair: Yandere Taehyung × Obsessed Reader

Summary: You were obsessed freak for the new police officer in the town. Trying to get into his heart and pants both with your efforts. But when you give up on him, he comes again in your life and you were dumbfounded when you get to know that he isn't a normal police officer.

Warning: The behaviour of characters are not something to emulate. Reader isn't yandere just crazy for him, blood, reader cuts herself for show off, argument, appearance of choi Yeonjun.

Rainy season has touched South Korea, although many people hated rain Kim Taehyung was not one of them. And it was for variants of reasons.

One of those reasons being her. That woman.

He unintentionally looked at the door as if his eyes were waiting for her. The longing of seeing her was so much that he started hallucinating her standing at door, all drenched, her outfit clearly showing cleavage and her palm all bloody - wait! What?!.

Taehyung snapped out of his imagination while he saw you standing there in real. He quickly got up after he realised that you were crying for help. The junior officer, Choi Yeonjun who was standing beside can't help but cringe. You were coming into police station regularly since two weeks.

And even a blind person can figure out you were in love with officer Kim. He just saw you as a silly girl who was begging for attention. People will say he's too harsh but looking at you clinging on officer Kim like your life depends on it, he was sure.

Taehyung doesn't know what to do, you were crying - probably fake. He knows you by now. And complaining about some unknown person who harmed you. Him being a gentleman gave you a handkerchief and told you to sit on the other side to write a report. Thankfully Yeonjun was already out when hugged him.

He saw your obvious pout after pulling out of hug.

"So, did you see their faces?" Taehyung asked the question even after being sure that this was self harm.

"Won't you ask me how I am?!!" You asked in slight anger tone.

"My palm has been cut open!!" It was not that big but you wanted to see worry or love or whatever it is in his eyes.

Taehyung massaged his head, loudly breathing through his nose. He remembered the night he met you - some goons had attacked you. You were lucky that he was nearby. He fought with them in his regular black tshirt with leather jacket. It was raining so it went all slow motion for you. Your knight in shining armor was nothing less compared to heroes in films.

He lend you his jacket to make you feel more safe. And there were butterflies in your stomach as he made such move. You asked for cleaning his little wounds to touch him, feel his muscles and he thought you were just being kind.

After that night you visited the police station as he told you he works there. You brought him luxurious gifts just simply on the name of being saved. Only if he knew you already gone for him.

He thought it was cute. After that day, she seemed to be everywhere—offering him homemade cookies, dropping by the precinct with lunch, giving him luxurious gifts here and there even if he refused.

You were quite flirty as well but what began as harmless flirtation quickly escalated into something much more unnerving. Every day, you found new ways to insert yourself into his life.

Like - right now you were being pain in the ass. Solely focusing on does he care about her - not even caring about her wounds.

"You need to back off , YN!" Taehyung told you, his voice tight with frustration.

You were silenced by his serious tone.

“This isn’t cute anymore. It’s not a game. Stay away from me.”

But You weren't deterred.

“Taehyung, you don’t mean that,” you said as your voice soft and coaxing, as if you could soothe away his anger with just a few words. You reached out to touch his hand, but he jerked away, his patience at its breaking point.

You were upset not with him but with yourself. You being a rich brat was always given what you wanted. So you were determined to get him to love you.

But now you understood that love can't be forced even after trying so many times you failed to gain his love. You can't always win anything even with money sometimes.

You stood up and left the police station. Your hand was taken care by him while you were expressing your agony.

It's been awhile, taehyung hadn't seen you. Who was he kidding tho it was just second day of you not visiting him.

Taehyung couldn't believe you didn't come the other day after argument. He thought you will enter with your sunshine smile and homemade cookies in your hand, flirting with him by openly calling him baby and talking dirty just to make him blush.

On the first day of your disappearance, he was astonished not founding you by his office door with some notorious idea to see him but he became busy to stop the feeling, the feeling of loneliness. He was surrounded by people but at the same time he wasn't. It was like you had his identity, and that somehow made him happy.

The second day was normal for everyone but not Taehyung, not him.

At first, it was just a flicker of curiosity. He wondered where were you, what were you doing, why the heck you had finally listened to him. But as the day turned into night, that curiosity grew into something more—a strange, burning need to see you again.

The rain wasn't stopping and for the first time he felt like hating the rain for the first time. It can't be right?! He promised himself to be rain lover all his life.

He began to replay your encounters in his mind, each memory sharpened by the absence of your chaotic energy.

And then, the dreams started. Dreams where you was the one pulling away, where he was the one chasing you, begging for your attention. Each time he woke, his heart pounded in his chest, his sheets twisted and damp with sweat and maybe some white substance. He hated the way you had wormed your way into his thoughts, but he couldn’t stop it. The more he tried to push you away, the more you consumed him.

Soon, Taehyung found himself driving by your apartment, lingering outside the places you used to wait for him, hoping for a glimpse of the woman he had once been so desperate to escape.

The tables had turned, and now, it was Taehyung who was haunted by the obsession that had once belonged to her.

But except it wasn't just a normal obsession, it was intense. Seems like you didn't know about officer Kim Taehyung at all.

next part

Did you guys like it?! Yandere Taehyung is about to take place in part 2!!.

Show some love and appreciation, it'll make me happier 💕

Tag list : @hoji-licious , @tan-veee , @illnevertrustmyselfagain , @tae-n-u

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 12

<-----part 11, part 13----->

A/N: Woo new part!!

The last three months have been busy for me. First with Christmas and New Years, then applying to Playtime to adopt, which got approved thankfully. So then I needed to attend an agency sponsored orientation session and once that finished, I needed to get ready for the home interview.  

--------------- 

It was the weekend and DogDay said I could take a few days off to get everything ready for the social worker. I had moved out of my apartment and bought a house. New year new home you know? I asked Sarah if she could help me unpack and she said yes. I was currently unboxing some stuff when my phone started ringing. 

“Unknown number?” Is what I saw on my phone. I answered the phone and said, “Hello?” “Hi Angel!” DogDay?! Where the hell did he get a phone from? “DogDay?” “The one and only Angel.” I smiled and said, “This is a surprise, when did you get a phone?” DogDay laughed on the phone. “Oh no I don’t have one, but you just got one in your office!” “Oh? I didn’t know I was getting a phone.” I went over to the living room and sat down on the one chair I brought with me.  

“Mhm which now means we can talk when you’re not here Angel! Isn’t that great?” “It is!” “So what is my lovely Angel up to now?” I playfully rolled my eyes and said, “I’m just unpacking some stuff that I brought over. I’m waiting for the moving company to bring over the rest of the stuff and the new stuff that I bought. Sarah is gonna come over and help later.” “I still can’t believe you’re gonna adopt Damian Angel.” “Haha what do you mean? You’re the one who told me to remember?” It sounded like DogDay was moving around my office. “I remember Angel. Hey! You didn’t tell me you had my letter laminated.”  

I thought for a moment before remembering what letter it was.  “Oh yeah, haha. I really loved it.” I looked over to my wall and the only picture I had hanging now was the one DogDay gave me for Valentine's Day. The original one was also laminated but it was here with me. The one in my office was a copy I made. “You should sing me my letter some time.” “Oh yeah? Well Angel, my voice isn’t as good as yours, but I’ll do my best. I’ll sing it to you when you come back.”  

The sound of the doorbell spooked me a little. I got up from the chair and looked the peep whole and saw that it was the movers. “I’ll hold you too that love. Hey the movers are here so I’ll call you back later.” “Poo. Alright Angel, I love you~” “I love you too~ mwah! Bye bye.” “Bye bye.” I unlocked the door and put my phone in my pocket. “Hi, sorry I was on the phone.” “Not a problem at all ma’am. If you can tell me which rooms are which so that we can put the boxes in the right room for you.” I nodded and stepped out of the way to let- I looked at his nametag quickly before he walked past me- Adam. That was his name. I moved so that Adam could come in.  

He looked around and I led him to the first room but my picture on the wall caught his attention. “Oh hey, what was his name again? Day-Day? No um DoggyDay? Oh! DogDay! My kids love him. He your husband?” I think my neck popped with how fast I turned to look at him. “Huh?! N-no he’s just my boyfriend.” Adam nodded and said, “Oh, apologize. I thought he was since people these days can now marry almost anything now.” I had forgotten about that law. It just started this year that anyone can marry anything, be it robots, or other characters from different stuff. I don’t think me and DogDay could get married though. He’s owned by Playtime. Just then an idea popped in my head.  

--------------- 

Once I showed Adam around, he and his team brought in everything and placed them in the rooms that they were meant to go in. Not long after Sarah came by and helped unboxing some stuff. After a few hours we decided to go have lunch. It was a nice day outside, so we had lunch outside the restaurant.  

“Thank you again for helping me Sarah.” I said before sipping on my tea. “No prob. Not like I had anything else to do.” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. “You seem a little down, what’s wrong?” Sarah just chewed on her salad for a good two minutes before swallowing and said, “It’s my kid. She like has asthma and her inhaler ran out yesterday but like I can’t get her a new one because my stupid insurance doesn’t want to like cover for it and just for one inhaler is like $600!”  

I was shocked. I had no idea that Sarah had a kid. “How old is she if you don’t mind me asking.” Another long pause from Sarah. She put her head down while saying, “She’s four years old, almost five.” Damn. I felt bad for Sarah. I was going to say something to her, but she spoke out first. “And don’t like ask me if my parents will like help me because they won’t. They cut ties with me once they like found out that their little fifteen-year-old was pregnant.” I saw tears stroll down her cheek. I handed her a napkin and she took it and wiped her eyes.   

We didn’t say anything else after. Once we finished, I told her I needed to run into the gas station quickly to get something and she said she’d wait outside for me. In a few minutes I came back out and handed her an envelope. “Here.” Sarah stared at it before taking it and opening it up. Her eyes widened and before she said anything I put a hand up and said, “Take it. There’s a little extra in there in case you need anything else.” She had tears in her eyes and without a warning she hugged me. “Thank you, Y/N. You really are an angel.”  

--------------- 

It was now naptime at Playcare which meant there would be no interruptions between me and DogDay. We were both laying down on his bed. My back was to his chest and his arms were wrapped around my waist. “Ready for your song Angel?” “Mhm.” DogDay pulled me in closer to his chest. “It’s just like heaven; being here with you. You’re like an Angel; too good to be true. But after all, I love you, I do. Angel baby. My Angel baby~ When you are near me; my heart skips a beat. I can hardly stand on my own two feet. Because I love you, I love you, I do. Angel baby. My Angel baby~ Wooo who, I love you. Whoo, I do. No one could love you. Like, I do.”  

As he sang out the rest of the letter, I closed my eyes and pictured what life would look like if DogDay and I were together outside of here. I then felt DogDay take off my headband and place a kiss on top of my head. “Did you enjoy my singing Angel?” I wiggled around and turned towards DogDay. “I loved it. You have quite the singing voice.” I leaned in and kissed him, and he returned the kiss back, pulling me closer to him.  

My phone started ringing killing the moment. I pulled away and looked at my phone and immediately groaned. “Let me guess, it’s your mom, right?” “Yep.” DogDay sighed and said, “She always ruins everything.” I laughed at how he said that. I answered the phone. “Hey m-” “Young lady how dare you not tell me that I’d get a call from a social worker asking me questions about you!” DogDay held back a laugh as I made a face. “Mom, I told you that- ah!” I was caught off guard as DogDay moved me onto his torso. My face felt a little flushed as I was now on top of him sitting up. DogDay had this look in his eyes, like he was about to do something. “Hello? Y/N?” “Sorry mom I uh, tripped.” My mom sighed and said, “This is why you’re always hurting yourself, you’re so clumsy. How are you going to raise a child?” Rude. “Listen mom if they didn’t think I could raise Damian then they wouldn’t have made me go through everything that I’ve done already. I have to home inspection coming up and-”  

I stopped talking as DogDay grabbed onto my waist and with his fingers he raised up my shirt a little bit. My heart started beating faster, and I knew by now I was blushing. DogDay had a grin on his face. “As I was saying mom, I um have the home um thing soon and I know that umm..wait nonono hahaha!” DogDay started tickling me. “Hahaha wait no waiit hahahah” “Y/N? What on earth is wrong with you?” “Hahaha stop please! Mom I- haha have to call you b-back haha!” As I hanged up the phone DogDay said, “You’re not escaping me Angel~”  

Five minutes he tickled me. Only five minutes and it felt like an eternity. DogDay moved his paws away and leaned up against the wall. I laid against his chest, trying to catch my breath from all the laughing I did. “My my Angel. I’d thought I’d have you breathing like that from another activity~.” He winked at me and I almost choked on my spit. “Wha huh??!!” “Just kidding.” 

A/N: Be honest, you thought something else was going to happen >:p

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXXIII

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Oh my dear readers. I truly hope you will enjoy this chapters because I did. I had to cut this chapters in half because it would have been too long. Next chapters are going to be really intense I think, please do tell me your thoughts.

“ Alice, leave your father’s shadow alone!”

It’s been a few years since you gave birth to your little girl and it had been.. Interesting so far. 

After giving birth, you stayed inside the hospital for a week. It seemed like you had bleed too much so the doctors wanted to make sure you would be safe before going home. Your parents visited you as soon as you were stable.

“ Oh, my baby..!” your mother ran toward you and hugged you while your father shook Alastor’s hand with teary eyes. 

You smiled at your mother as you showed her your baby. Your dad immediately coed at her, carrying her in his arms as your mother kissed her forehead. Alastor stayed by your side, caressing your hand, making sure you were feeling fine. You smiled sweetly at him, you were exhausted but you were also feeling full of energy!

Marie came the next day with flowers and sweets for you. She hugged her son with a soft expression before kissing you on both cheeks. She couldn’t hold her tears when you showed her Alice. She kissed Alice’s forehead before taking her in her arms after you had her permission.

“ She looks just like you, Alastor!” She beamed as Alice opened her eyes to look at her grandma.” Oh, but her gaze is just like your wife!” She giggled before Alice began to cry, surely wanting to go back into your arms.

You took Alice in your arms as Marie gave you advice which you listened to carefully. She seemed so happy to be a grandma, you knew Alastor was feeling satisfied to have given such a smile on his mother’s face.

The fourth day, Alyzée came to visit you. You were breastfeeding Alice while Alastor was packing your things. You were feeling fine now, so you knew the doctor would release you soon. You lifted your head up when you saw Alyzée entering the room.

“ Hello and congratulations.” She smiled softly with a huge bouquet of flowers. Alastor took it before going to place it toward your luggages, rolling his eyes as Alyzée congratulated you once more.

‘ Can they be original with their congratulations ?’

Alastor…

When you told the name you chose for your baby, Alyzée almost burst into tears but you could see she was trying to be strong. You took her hand in yours with a soft smile. You knew her pain, you wouldn’t judge her for crying.

“ I… I came with someone.” She said with a shy smile. She turned her head toward the door and you beamed as you saw the butler that used to serve Alice, the one who saw you growing up.

“ Hello, dear. I’m happy you are doing well.”

You all talk a little, even if at some point Alastor walked out with the butler. You gave Alice to Alyzée who held her carefully in her arms. You were still missing your best friend, how you wished she could be here with her own baby. You both would talk about your feelings and your fears about being a mother…

Once everyone left your room, you smiled when you saw Baron Samedi and Papa Legba sitting next to you. Of course, you almost panicked when a nurse came to check on you but you sigh in relief when you remembered she couldn’t see them. You looked at Alastor when the nurse left your room.

“ Kalfu doesn’t want to come?”

“He doesn't care.” He shrugged before sitting next to you. You stared at him. Since Alice was born he never held her. Why? Was he scared? Did he not care about her? “ Yes, dear?”

“ Don’t you want to hold our daughter?” You smiled at him as Alice was making adorable baby noises.

“ Why? You don’t want to hold her anymore? I can carry her if you want.” Alastor smiled as he approached his hand toward you but you shook your head.

“ Do you want to ?”

You scrutinized Alastor’s face as he looked at you with his usual smile. He didn't seem disgusted with your baby… so why?

You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile. You knew Alastor wasn’t like normal people, that’s also why you loved him so much. You couldn’t force him to do things if he wasn’t uncomfortable. It was like you were younger, you had to tame him before being able to touch him. Maybe it was going to be the same with Alice?

“ She is such a cute baby, I’m happy you are alive and well, little warrior!”  Said Baron Samedi watching Alice who was falling asleep. 

You stroke your baby cheek with a soft smile. You felt so different since Alice was born, it’s only been a few days and yet you felt stronger in a way. It was like being a mother gave you another kind of power…Talking about powers..

You looked at Alastor who was talking with Baron Samedi about his new power. From what he told them, he could manipulate fire, which you witnessed the night Alice died. But Kalfu had given him a reddish cane that had the power to trap souls inside of it, but Alastor would lose one year of his lifespan for each soul trapped.

“ That bastard… He really gave you that, huh…” Said Baron Samedi, crossing his arms against his torso. He didn’t seem happy with the news but he wasn’t furious either. You asked him if this power was supposed to be his, which he answered with an amused expression. “ We can say that…”

“ Am I the only one whose lifespan will be shortened ?” Asked Alastor. You tilted your head at his words, you didn’t even think about it. 

“ Logically, no. You are bound together forever, if your lifespan is being reduced because of your deal, our little lady will also shorten her lifespan.” Explained Papa Legba with his habitual warm expression.

Alastor’s gaze fell on you. You already knew what he was thinking, he didn’t want to use this power if you were affected but… Losing one year was nothing, and you wanted to use this power against one person only.

“If we trapped Trey’s soul inside the cane, we wouldn’t need it anymore.” You smiled at him, confident. “ Let’s cage his soul and then never use the cane ever again.”

Alastor studied you for a long minute before smiling as usual. He kissed your forehead with a fondness you always loved.  You knew he was thinking about a way out of this rule Kalfu decided on the canne. You trusted him, you knew he would succeed.

“ Now, let’s talk about you, my dear. You also earned another power, flying was it?” He looked at Papa Legba with a smirk that the spirit didn’t return it.

“ Well, it is the power to understand the air, that is her new power. She can’t control the air, she is only human after all.”

“ But… you said it was a new skill of mine? Levitating…”

“ Well of course, your Telekinesis power got stronger enough for you to use it on yourself to be able to levitate. You aren’t really controlling the air…”

“ But, the air was like a storm around me at that time.” You said, looking at Alastor who nodded, confirming your sayings.

“ I know little lady, I was there.  I summoned a spirit who controls the air, they are very empathic so your rage filled them enough to make a small storm inside the room. The spirit didn’t want to leave you, so you can work with them.  You will now be able to ask the wind to do things for you, if the spirit wants to, of course.”

 You looked at him confused. Why did this spirit want to work with you, you didn’t ask for them… 

You nodded slowly looking around. Was the spirit here ?

“ No, no”, laughed Legba while Baron Samedi was chuckling next to you, “ they are having fun somewhere right now. As long as you don’t summon them, they won’t stay next to you. Wind is freedom after all.”

“ So, my dearest can ask this spirit to go somewhere and do things? Or is it a passive spirit?” Asked Alastor, he seemed very interested. “ Is it the same kind of spirit that I have for my fire? Or is it different ?”

“ Well, we can say that those powers you two have are from spirits. Your powers aren’t yours, remember that. They belong to the spirits Kalfu and I let into this realm. If we ever took them back, you would be powerless.” Legba stared at you with a sadness you couldn’t understand. Was it advice or a warning..?

“ But yes, to be clear, Alastor owns a Fire spirit while the little doll works with the air spirit.” Baron Samedi said as he smoked his cigar. You frowned at the spirit who seemed confused by your glare but when you showed your baby he laughed before stepping back, smoking away from you and Alice.

“ Why do I work with a spirit and Alastor owns it?” you asked.  

“ Well… Alastor’s spirits are trapped with him until he dies or Kalfu decides he wants them back. You, little lady, work with them because they want to. They can go back to the spiritual realm if they deem you not worthy of their service.” Papa Legba explained.

“ But why?”

“ Haha ! Because you are working with Legba and your husband with Kalfu, it’s that simple.” Teased Baron Samedi.

You looked at Alastor who was smirking. You liked your conditions better, at least, you knew you still had your powers because the spirits liked you… Talking about spirits..

“ My shadow…!” You shouted, awaking Alice. She began to cry and you quickly tried to calm her down by kissing her cheeks, whispering apologies.

“ Oh yes, it went back to me.”

“Why..?” You whispered, feeling hurt, even more that now you knew for sure the spirit could decide if they wanted to stay by your side and share their powers with you. Your shadow left when you were in that special moment, but why..?

“ Oh, it asked me to make sure nothing would happen to you. I said I couldn’t do anything, so it stayed with me so it wouldn’t draw energy from you just by being by your side.”

You saw your husband's confused face, did he think the shadows did not feel anything? You were touched, your shadow tried to find help somewhere else… You missed it.

“ Can it come back..?”

“ Well, of course.” replied the old spirit.

You didn’t have the time to thank Papa Legba as you saw your shadow on the wall moving before dashing toward you. You laughed as it hugged you, covering your body with its black arms. You patted its head before it let you go and watched your baby in your arms. You smiled softly as it touched Alice’s cheeks which made her move a little before opening her eyes. 

Your shadow was then tackled but Alastor’s which made your husband scoff at his shadow actions. You knew your lover hated being seen as uncomposed, so seeing his shadow being his opposite must frustrated him. Well, it made you laugh.

The two spirits vanished after another hour of talking. You observed your husband who was watching you and your daughter. You tilted your head, opening your mouth to ask him what he was thinking about but he cut you off.

“ She has your eyes…”

You beamed, looking at your baby who was holding a lock of your hair. You couldn’t deny it, Alice had her father’s color’ eyes but the way they seemed to shine was just like your eyes. 

The day before you could leave the hospital, Victor came to congratulate you. He came with a lot of chocolate which made you beamed. You were dying to eat some since you’ve been captive here.

Alastor was mocking Victor, asking if he managed his emission at the radio. Victor seemed clearly embarrassed, saying he managed to do enough but he clearly didn’t have the same amount of audience since Alastor took some days off to stay with you. 

Victor was really a sweetheart, he couldn’t help but smile at Alice when he saw her. After a small discussion, you discovered that Victor was dying to have a child too but he was still single so it was going to be difficult. 

“ I’m sure you are going to find someone, Victor!”

“ Yes, and maybe they will listen to you on the radio.” Teased Alastor, making you shake your head with a small smile. 

After Victor left, Mimzy came in. You were surprised she even came, you weren’t very close to her, but as she entered the room she immediately congratulated Alastor and began to speak with him. 

You didn’t partake into their conversation, you mostly took care of Alice. Mimzy was the one who helped you with dancing but since Larry’s death, you didn't really interact with her, even at your wedding.

When you were discharged from the hospital, you were more than happy to go home. You could finally start this new life with Alastor.

Being a mother was challenging, you were always worried something would happen. But thankfully, your spirits were very helpful. Sometimes the wind would whisper in your ear that Alice needed to be changed, making you stop what you were doing to help your daughter.

Your shadow would also help you when you were taking care of the food, it would watch over Alice, making her laugh. You wondered if it was normal, your shadow could interact with people but you weren’t sure if they could see it… But Legba taught you that children were very sensible to the spiritual realm. If Alice was capable of seeing your shadow once she was older, then you would be sure that she has spiritual powers.

Alastor was so attentive to your needs too. Sometimes you would just fall on the bed because you were so exhausted that you couldn’t do anything more. Alastor would take care of the cooking, ordering you to take a bath and not do anything else.

Marie and your mother would come often, helping you when you felt like you were going to turn crazy because Alice couldn’t sleep and was crying since this morning. 

One night, you woke up because you were sure you heard Alice crying. You didn’t notice Alastor wasn’t by your side on the bed. You saw the baby bed empty and almost fainted. Where was your baby? 

You felt the wind pushing toward a direction and you followed it until you were in front of Alastor’s office. You peeked inside the room and almost melted at the sight. 

Alastor was holding Alice in his arms while showing her his old radio that he had owned since his childhood. Alice was blablating like a baby, trying to reach for the radio.

“ Ha-ha. Young lady, this radio is older than you, you should be respectful.” Alastor tutted, taking Alice’s hands away from his precious items. “ Now, you need to be able to be quick minded, if not you would get bored… We don’t want that, right?” 

You smiled when you saw Alice smiled and reached for her father’s face. Alastor tilted his face toward your baby, permitting Alice to touch his glasses, before looking at you with a fond smile.

“ Darling, you are awake…”

You walked toward him, caressing his cheek as he closed his eyes when he felt your touch. You looked at your baby and husband, was happiness this simple? You kissed Alastor with all the affections you could convey. How happy you felt…

Alastor would talk with Alice, never using a baby voice like Marie or your mother would do. He would talk like he was talking to an adult which made you laugh when he asked her if she wanted to try Jambalaya when she was older.

The first time Alice said mommy, you almost dropped her. You were teaching her how to talk, Alastor was sitting next to you with his coffee and then Alice just said it.

“ Mo..Mommy..”

You froze as Alastor coughed, almost choking on his drink. You stared at your baby who was giggling, her hand reaching for your face. You hugged her while semi-screaming to your husband.

“ Did you hear? Did you?”

“ I think I did. Well done Alice.”

When Alice finally said Dad, you smirked at Alastor who couldn’t help himself but smirked at his daughter, saying she better learn more words or they couldn’t have a discussion.

You took a lot of pictures with your camera. Pictures about Alastor and Alice, Alice alone, you and your daughter. Alastor would play the piano and you would sing, smiling when you saw your baby looking at the both of you with stars in her eyes.

When she took her first steps, you were sitting on the sofa, watching her as she was playing with toys that Victor had gifted her. Alastor was working and you knew he would come later tonight.

But then, 9 month old Alice just decided it was time for her to walk. She stood up, making you freeze, and then walked clumsily toward you with a big smile. You quickly opened your arms and took her against your chest, screaming in delight. You put her on the floor once more and then walked away a bit and stared at her.

“ Come to mommy, Alice!”

She tilted her head but then she did it again.

When Alastor came from work you told him not to move and put Alice on the floor. Alastor tilted his head before his eyes widened when he saw your daughter walking toward him. He crouched in front of her with a smirk, watching her as she clumsily fell in his arms.

“ Well, isn’t it early for you to already walk?”

The only answer he got  was you, screaming in joy and Alice’s happy noises.

That night, Alice slept peacefully.You were watching over her with a fond expression. You felt your husband's arms wrapping themselves around your waist and his hot torso being against your back.

“ Still nothing?”

“ Nothing that could make him fall.”

You knew, while you were taking care of Alice, Alastor was trying to find clues about Trey. You really felt useless, letting Alastor take care of everything but he told you that you shouldn’t care about it. For now, your preoccupation was to take care of Alice and yourself.

His shadow was always with your daughter and you. After what Trey did, he didn't want to take any risks. Alastor thought Trey would try to hurt you, but you weren’t feeling it. And Alastor would always take your feeling seriously about a situation.

“ I think he doesn't want anything to do with us.”

“ Why is that, dear?”

“ Well, I had a feeling so.. I asked the wind which told me..” You grimaced when you saw Alastor’ eyes changing. He was staring at you, without moving, his nails digging into your wais. You knew he was angry because you used a spirit to keep track of Trey. “ Listen.. I don’t.. I can’t let you do all the work.”

“ What if he saw the spirit? What if he felt it?” Alastor asked, his voice dangerously low.

“ He didn’t, the spirit would have told me…  But, now that he is without a wife, he cares about the testament from his father in law.. He wants the Richemonts’s wealth.”

“ Well, he is going to own it. He is the rightful heir to all of Richemont's wealth…”

You sighed, shaking your head, your fist clenching so hard you felt your nails digging into the palms of your hands.

“ He doesn’t own it. Richemont's name doesn’t belong to him.” You spat, feeling anger taking place inside you making the wind around you move your and Alastor’s hair.

“ Don’t worry, we will kill him before he manages that.” Alastor said, kissing your cheek, while his hands were moving toward your neck. You sighed as he squeezed it a little, just like your husband told you, everything was going to turn alright. 

Years passed by and this is where you were right now: June 1932.

Alice was now five and she was the most beautiful little girl you ever met! She had lighter skin tan than her father but she had his brown-honey like eyes, her hair was lighter than yours, but she had long wavy locks. She had a cute red dress with a pink ribbon. She had quite a mouth, just like her father.

She was playful, clever, expressive, witty, entertaining and joyful. Marie said she was the perfect mixt of you and Alastor which you agreed. Alice could be very polite with adults, but a brat with her classmates. She was overconfident in herself, thinking she had all the answers. Of course, Alastor would laugh, testing her every time.

And of course, Alastor wasn’t taking gloves, even with Alice, so their banter would last thirty minutes before Alice ran into your arms, saying that her dad was being mean. Alastor would just say he was not mean, just better than her and another banter would start.

You were so scared that Alastor wouldn’t like his daughter but thank Gods, they had their moment of complicity.  Alice always loved going into her father’s workplace, a passion she had since Alastor showed her everything about radio. She would sit on his laps while he was doing his emission, being a good girl, never bothering her father.

You also would , as a family, dance together. Most of the time Alastor would be on the piano while you and Alice would dance. She wanted to learn to dance like you so you taught her some moves. She loved blues and jazz, making Alastor proud.

She would love gossiping, when her father would come back, you would bake something and then, Alastor would sit on the sofa while you sat on his laps and Alice would sit between the two of you, listening to what Alastor had to say. You knew she didn’t understand everything but she would listen either way, even falling asleep to both your voices.

But right now, you had another problem.

You ran after Alice who laughed, trying to catch Alastor’s shadow, which seemed to have the time of this life. You caught her in your arms, pecking her on her cheeks.

“ You are going to have trouble, young lady!” You laughed, as she was trying to be free from your arms.

“ Mommy, can we go see Dad?”

You looked at Marie who was laughing behind her hand. She was getting older but she still looked good.  You decided to visit her after seeing your mother and father. You always wondered if she felt lonely but she always told you that Alastor often came to see her, and she liked being alone. 

“ Say goodbye to grandma, then.”

Alice ran toward Marie and hugged her tightly before taking Eamon in her arms. You never thought Alice would choose Eamon as her plushie but she always took him with her when she had to go outside. When you first noticed it, you asked Alastor if it wasn’t dangerous for the bound that you shared.

Alastor thought for a moment before saying that his shadow would be with you, so nothing would happen to your deer plushie. And Alice was already loving the plushie, so taking it away from her would result in a tantrum.

“ See you later, Marie.” You kissed her on both cheeks before taking Alice’s hand in yours and walking toward Alastor’s workplace.

“ Are we going to see auntie later?”

You smiled at her, since she was born Alice was calling your deceased best friend, auntie. You would take her to the cemetery and talk about her, your daughter listening to your adventures with sparkles in her eyes. 

“ Not today, my baby, maybe tomorrow?”

Alice nodded before walking with you, sometimes stopping to watch inside a shop. You smiled as she stopped in front of a candy shop, she had a sweet tooth just like you. You let go of her hands as she pressed her face against the glass.

“ Mrs. Sanglar…”

You turned your head toward the policeman you knew too well. You felt a breeze of wind moving your hair before everything turned silent.

“ Mr. Felleur.”

“ Oh.. You don’t have to call me that. I’m still John for you–”

“ What can I do for you, sir.”

You saw John's face fall. It was taking every once of your energy not to kill him right now. Since Alice’s birth, Alastor and you haven't killed anyone. Alastor was too busy with work and finding clues about Trey and you were busy taking care of Alice, the house and sometimes asking spirits about Trey.

You knew Alastor had pulsions, and during those times, when he couldn’t kill, you would play in the forest. Alastor had a gun and you had a knife, the first who touched the other won. You lost most of the time, but when Alastor was taking his reward, you didn’t mind losing.

But you knew it wasn’t enough, even for you. You craved tearing an eye off from someone's face, preferably Trey’s face but well…

Because of that, the serial killer that all of New Orelans’s police were looking after, thought that the serial killer had died or managed to run away in another country. Some journalists were making stories, saying that the last victim of the serial killer had been Alice Richemont. Some were thinking Alice was the serial killer because after her death, no kills were reported.

How stupid.

You felt Alice taking your hand, making you look down. She was like you, an empath, she often could feel what others couldn’t. Now, was this just because she was very empathic or was there something else..

“ Oh… Is she your daughter..?” He asked with a small smile.

You rolled your eyes, what a stupid man. 

“ What do you want from me, officer?”

You stared as John began to speak. After 5 years, John looked the same. He still had these piercing green eyes, his build was more muscular but he was still incapable of looking at you in the eyes without blushing.

“ — So , what are your thoughts?”

Ah, you didn’t listen..

“ Mommy and I are going to see Dad! We won’t go with you!” You looked at your daughter who stomped her foot on the ground, squeezing Eamon against her. You smiled sweetly, she was so cute, pouting like this. You looked at John and freezed when you saw his eyes fixated on Alice. Why was he looking at her like this? 

Alice must have felt it because she tugged your arms so you could carry her. You did it immediately, staring at John.

“ Officer.”

“ So, you still have this deer plushie..”

“ Yes.”

John looked away from Eamon and looked at you but before he could open his cursed mouth, you walked past him, keeping Alice head against your chest. You didn't want to deal with Felleur right now, you haven’t seen John since your friend’s death…

You felt your shadow touch your ankle, making sure you were okay. You only smiled at it, you were stronger now, this conversation wasn’t going to make you feel bad.

You finally entered your husband ‘s workplace and smiled at Victor. He aged just like fine wine, you wondered how he could still be single! 

“ Victor!” Alice ran from your arms to jump into Victor’s who spun her in his arms.

“ Isn’t the princess of New Orleans ?” Cheered Victor. He looked at you and smiled before you hugged him to say hello. “ Alastor is in his office, he finished working so you can go.”

“ Do you want to see Dad, Alice?”

“ Not yet! I’m staying with Victor!”

You laughed, before going toward your husband’s office. You knocked before entering without waiting for Alastor to open the door. You looked as your husband lifted his head up, his smile way wider than usual.. It was the smile he had when…

He knew he was going to kill.

He dashed toward you, took your face between his hands and kissed you until you felt like you were going to die from the lack of air. He let you go, making you gasp for air, and then dive into your neck, kissing it, biting it…

“ Al-Alastor.. what–”

“ I know. I found it.”

“ What?”

“ Trey Felleur, I know how to make him fall.”

You felt your heart beat faster, you felt like you had a punch in the gut. You weren’t even sure if you heard him correctly. It’s been five years. Five years and you both never discovered anything about Trey that could put him behind the bar… or six feet underground.

“ How..?”

“ We are going to use our dear John. I know from a very trustful source that Trey wants Richemont’s wealth, he needs it, it’s very important.” He said with his maniac smile you missed so much. “ But guess who will earn all of it after Alice’s father dies?”

“ … his wife..?”

“ No, no darling. Us.”

“ … You aren’t making any sense, Alastor–”

“ My Love, curse of my sanity, listen to me. Alice’s father, Maurice, changed his will, he thinks Trey is the one who killed his daughter. He came to me and I confirmed his suspicion. He then decided to give to Alyzée and us, all of the Richemont’s wealth.”

“ … But why?”

“ Well, our daughter was the key. I told him we named our daughter, Alice. I think he got emotional, I don’t understand it but he asked us to make Trey fall.” He smirked cunningly.

“ Okay… but how do we make him fall?”

“ Don’t you think he is going to try to make Maurice change his will, trying to make it seem like he didn't do it?” you nodded. “ Then, we will attack John. I will tell all of New Orleans on the radio that John killed my father because he owed him money, that is why he came so many times on my mother’s property: to hide the corpse.”

“ But why would John try–”

“ The Felleur are in need of money, dear.” He laughed, leaning back before pushing you against the wall, caging you between his hands. “ The stock market crash in 1929 destroyed them.”

You could feel yourself smiling, feeling excited in your belly. You bit your lips,breathing heavily, staring at your husband who watched you with pure madness.

“ Trey can not lose the Richemont’s wealth, so he will do anything to keep it under his control. But if we frame John as a killer, don’t you think people would look at Trey suspiciously. Alice’s killer wasn’t found, but it was John who was taking care of the case. Trey could have killed Alice for her wealth and then used John to make him innocent…”

You looked at Alastor like you could bite him so hard he would bleed so much. He was amazing.. You were shaking with excitement. You brought your hand toward his face with a big smile.

“ If we frame John for my father’s death, Trey would have to act, making him more capable of making a mistake. We could kill him and then mask it as a suicide.”

You kissed your husband so fiercely he groaned against your lips. You spined him around before pushing his back against the wall. You bit his lips then kissed them again while Alastor’s hands were already moving on your body.

You loved him, you loved him, you loved him, he was… he was!

“ Dad, Mommy, open !”

You heard Alastor swear under his breath which made you laugh. You stepped back, making sure your dress was perfect before opening for your little girl. She ran inside your husband's office and sat on Alastor’s chair with a big smile.

“ Dad, you look bad!”

“ Look at yourself first, my dear daughter.”

You smiled, leaning your head against the wall, watching as Alastor taught Alice about every button he used for his broadcast.  Alastor was now 32 and you were 30. But your husband was still as breathtaking as when he was younger. It’s been five years since you didn’t see his blood lust expression, you really missed… but…

After five years, revenge was on its way.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora @gasiacos @charlottemorningstarsdarling @nekee-lilac02

[backtothefanfiction]

Professor Parker Part 2

Summary: where Professor Parker makes a deal with trouble, in order to get them to stay in class.

Word Count: 2.4k+

Warnings: 18+ Only! Smut, professor x student relationship (college age of course!), oral f!receiving, praise kink, angst

A/N- I am sorry this took so long to actually do, but yeah, after that recent talk show look (you know the one I’m talking about, if not I reblogged it a few posts back) I just knew I needed to go back to this. Anyway, enjoy.

Ps @sincericida it’s been a while since part one so would you mind reblogging to help find the original masses, who knows who’s usernames are still the same or working.

You weren’t going to continue taking his course. You had every intention of going straight to the Dean asking to change. Sure you had been eagerly awaiting this course ever since you’d first read about, it well over a year ago, when you were thinking about where you wanted to study after you graduated. The way Professor Parker focused on Multiversal Theory, using Physics of Matter to provide proof for his theories, it was a truly riveting subject. But now, after all this. There was no way you could stay in his class, listening to him talk for 12-15 hours a week, knowing he’d buried his head between your legs, made you cum again and again… no you couldn’t do it. That would just be self induced torture, no? Because there was also no way he’d fuck you until you saw stars again, would he? No, there was no way. Then how come you were now sat on top of his desk, your legs spread, panties dropped to the floor between you as he once again ate your pussy like he was a man starved?

He had stopped you as you went to leave, trying to blend in and leave amongst the crowd. “Hold it Miss Y/L/N.” Fuck! You thought you were gonna get away with it.

There was silence as you waited, arms folded- guarded- as the last couple of students left with small smiles and waved their goodbyes to the Professor. Professor, uhhh the reminder of the name he’d given you last night now felt very different.

“Don’t go.” He said as he moved back towards his desk and began shifting things around. “I know that look. Don’t change course.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. You kept quiet with your eyes to the ground as you watched him come back around the front of the desk, his ankles crossing over in front of him as he leant back on the desk. “Last nights on me, I’m sorry,” he admitted and it finally forced you to meet his eyes as he continued to speak. “But it shouldn’t mean you have to change course.”

You didn’t know what he expected you to say. You didn’t know how else to respond either, a now slightly less uncomfortable silence falling between you. He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Well you certainly chose the right name to introduce yourself with… trouble.”

“You’re one to talk… Professor.” You said, finally finding your voice and the corner of his mouth quirked into a small smile.

“Okay, you have me there. But in all fairness, I’m not expecting to find new students in clubs.” He mused, both a chastising, yet naughty glimmer of admiration in his eye.

“You can blame my room mate for that one. You can also blame her for pushing me on you.” You chuffed as the memory from the night before came back to you.

He frowned as if remembering too. “Quite literally if I remember correctly.” He joked and it made your tummy flip.

You fell quiet again, your eyes quickly shooting back to looking at his feet instead of his face, as the feeling of your crush overwhelmed you and your previous dilemma returned.

As if he could see the conflict in your mind for himself, he stepped closer, forcing your attention back on him as he said, “What have I got to do to convince you to stay in this class?” He asked honestly, but he was too close to you. His smell was intoxicating. His gaze penetrating. His eyes were so soft and earnest, you just wanted to melt into them. His curls were too neat in the light of day and you just wanted to run your hands through them until they were fluffy and soft and messy again, just like they had been when you had left him in bed and snuck out this morning.

Your breathing caught in your chest as he reached out his hand to you, his warm fingers coming into contact with the smallest patch of bare skin on your arm where your cardigan had slipped down. It sent a shiver down your spine and you knew he had felt it.

He pulled his hand away again hesitantly and you reached to pull your cardigan back up onto your shoulder to cover yourself up again protectively. “I can’t.” You said gently, the two words breaking you and you knew you had to walk away before it was too late- before anything else could happen and make this hurt anymore.

You had taken two steps towards the door when you felt his hand reach for your wrist to pull you back. When you met his eyes you were met with conflict, it was plain on his face now as he looked you up and down fully in the light of day. His gaze finally fell to the floor and he released your wrist to rub at his face as he sighed. “Uhhhh you weren’t kidding when you said you were gonna cause me a whole load of trouble,” he muttered to himself and all you could do was frown, your fingers picking at the pages the notebook in your fingers, as you tried to work out what thoughts were going through his head.

He sighed again as he looked to the ceiling as if trying to talk himself out of whatever idea had placed itself into his head. “Fuck,” he groaned quietly and the next thing you knew he was marching towards the door.

You watched him closely, your heart in your mouth as he pulled down the blind and there was a faint click as he locked the door. You only just about had time to realise what he was doing before he marched back over to you, his hands reaching out to hold either side of your face as he brought his lips to yours.

The touch instantly made you ache between your legs, your knees wobbling slightly as you took a sudden deep breath in through your nose as if his kiss alone allowed you to breathe freely again. There was a loud slap as the book in your hands hit the linoleum floor, but neither of you flinched as your reached your fingers up into his hair, messing up his curls and pulling him closer.

As his arm moved down to snake around your lower back, pulling you in closer to him, you could feel every contour of his body. Could feel the pressure building behind his pants zipper.

You opened your mouth up to him more and felt him waste no time, as he licked inside your mouth, pulling a desperate and wanton moan from between your lips. He grunted slightly in response, his forehead pushing into yours desperately as he forced himself to break off the passionate kiss for just a moment. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked. “You know you won’t be able to say anything to anyone.” He said, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation. “But I’m not letting you transfer out of this class, okay?” He said strongly.

You felt dizzy. Your eyes struggled to focus on him. From his kiss to his questions- far too many to answer in a short amount of time- you just wanted to feel his lips on yours again. Wanted to feel his fingers everywhere. Last night had been the best night of your life so far and he was dangling that feeling in front of you like a poisoned apple on a string- and you so wanted to bite.

“Come on, Trouble, I need you to answer me,” he said, somewhat desperately and it made you wonder, maybe he wanted this just as much as you did. At first you thought this might just be a ruse to get you to stay, but maybe it was more than that.

“Yes,” you sighed breathlessly.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I understand. I’ll stay. I won’t tell anyone, just please-“ you hesitated a second as you heard the rest of the sentence you wanted to say play out in your head and worked up the courage to say it- but you figured you’d come this far and already given yourself a nickname to live up to so why not say it- “promise me you’ll do that thing with your tongue again.” You sighed out breathlessly and a devilish gleam twinkled in his eye as he let out a small chuckle and shook his head gently against yours.

“Trouble,” he sighed. “Which thing?” He asked, playing along with you, but you were sure he already knew, so kept quiet as his gaze on you grew hungrier. He gave you a wolfish grin as he shook his head again. “When? Now?” He asked and you nibbled at your lip in anticipation.

He sighed again and rolled his eyes, his fingers reaching for yours as he began to pull you slowly around the back of his desk, backing you up until the backs of your thighs were pressing into the wood.

“It’s a good thing you wore a skirt for your first day of my class then, isn’t it?” He teased, his fingers tracing up your bare skin, slowly inching underneath the skirt and sending a shiver up your spine. He didn’t stop their journey until he reached your underwear, his fingers hooking into the elastic at your hips and slowly dragging them back down your legs at an agonising pace, until they reached your knees and he let them drop to the floor, ready for you to step out of them.

As you did so, he slowly encouraged you to sit back on top of his desk, his hands reaching back to lift up your skirt and reveal yourself to him, his eyes not leaving yours, as he slowly lowered himself onto his knees on the floor before you. Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed as his lips turned to graze the inside of your knee, the barely there touch of his mouth on your skin enough to send an overwhelming rush of arousal to your core. As he gradually kissed his way up your inner thigh, your fingers gripping the papers on his desk to ground. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this. You were about to enter into a secret affair with your professor like this was an episode of Riverdale or Pretty Little Liars.

But as his tongue finally moved up to swipe through your sex, you really didn’t care. If it meant you got to experience the bliss this man was able to drag from you on a regular basis, you didn’t care about anything. As he continued lick at your folds, his tongue sucking your clit into his mouth every few swipes, building you up at an agonising pace, you fought with all your might to keep your moans quiet, biting down on your lower lip with a strangled sigh as your sensitivity bloomed and the pressure between your legs grew tighter.

You allowed yourself one low shaky sigh as his tongue pushed deep inside you, teasing you agonisingly and you gripped the edges of his desk as you grew desperately close to your release. “Good girl,” he praised, as he took his mouth back away from you for just a second, before sliding two of his fingers gently inside you and sucking your clit back between his lips.

“Oh, shit.” You hissed, as his words and tone sent another flutter of arousal and sensitivity between your lips and you finally realised how much trouble you were really in. But it was too late, you’d already taken a bite from the tainted apple, the poison was already coursing through your blood and it felt far too good to run away.

His fingers gripped tighter to your thighs as they began to shake, your climax so desperate to come flooding out, but the tension of needing to be quiet made it unbearable. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders as you tried to keep yourself grounded and in control, the coil deep in your pelvis ready to expload and you felt his fingers slip out of you, his hands moving to hold you down firmly onto the desk as he took one last swipe at the sensitive apex between your legs. Your eyes squeezed shut, your legs clamping tightly around his face as it all came crashing down, the tiniest desperate squeak escaping from between your lips before you swallowed the need to cry out back down, instead panting your way through your climax until you could feel your body beginning to cool and calm again.

Slowly you relaxed your thighs and you heard a faint breathy chuckle of satisfaction fall from his lips as he rubbed soothingly at your bare legs again, before moving back, his hand casually moving to wipe away the mess on his face.

As he finally stood back up, his tongue lapping up the last of your juices from his lips, you saw him bunch up your panties, that he’d picked up off the floor, and wrap them tightly in his fingers before sliding them into his pocket.

“Hey, I need those back.” You said to him indignantly, a slight panic in your chest at the thought of having to walk back out of the classroom with nothing on under your skirt.

“New rule.” He said, standing up straight as he looked over your flushed form, still sitting on top of his desk as he leaned in closer. “Your panties end up on my classroom floor, I get to keep hold of them.” You were sure his words had just sent another wave of arousal back down between your legs, but you fought to ignore it, the thought of walking out of here panty-less, still more pressing, especially if this was going to be a regular thing- you’d be out of underwear before the semester was out and there was no way your student budget was gonna stretch to new underwear every other week.

You were about to protest the fact as you pushed yourself off the desk, your hand reaching out to snatch your underwear back from his pocket, but he swerved out the way before you could so much as even make the slightest bit of contact. “Uh, uh, uh,” he said, holding his finger up to me, that devilish smirk back in the corner of his mouth. “You can have them back, as long as you get good grades on your essays.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you let out a breathy little scoff. “So do we have a deal, trouble?” He asked patiently.

You rolled your eyes again as you conceded, “Yeah,” you sighed, “we have a deal.”