#who gave him the right to look that good in leather trousers

[subrosa03]

Shoutout to Dominic Keating in ‘Desmond’s’. Gotta be one of my favourite genders.

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling: A Table for Two - One Shot

Author’s Note:

I’m not sure if I’m totally happy with this one, but here you go.

Word Count: 3,706

Masterlist

The restaurant was one of those cosy, tucked-away spots that felt like a secret only a few people knew about. The lights were dim, the air filled with the aroma of rich food, and the low hum of quiet conversations created an intimate atmosphere that wrapped around us as soon as we walked in.

I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Hank as we settled into the booth, the soft leather curving around us, forcing us to sit close. Tonight, he looked different—a bit more polished than usual, his typical laid-back style replaced with a fitted button-down shirt that hugged his shoulders just right, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off that casual confidence he wore so well. He looked incredible, and judging by the glances we were getting from a few nearby tables, I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Alright, who are you and what have you done with my Hank?” I teased, leaning forward on my elbows and giving him a playful look.

He rolled his eyes, though I could see a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Thought I’d make an effort for you tonight,” he replied, giving me a slow, appreciative look in return. “You don’t look so bad yourself, by the way.”

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his gaze as it lingered on me. I’d chosen a black dress that fit in all the right places, the fabric soft and silky against my skin, and I knew it was a step up from my usual casual style. I’d even added a bit of extra makeup, just enough to make my eyes pop, and from the way Hank’s gaze kept drifting over me, it seemed he approved.

“So, what’s the occasion?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light even as I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine.

He shrugged, giving me that lopsided grin I loved so much. “No occasion. Just wanted to treat you. Figured we could do with a night out that’s a little… different.”

“Different how?” I tilted my head, curious and already excited.

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Different in the sense that I get to spoil you tonight. Relax, enjoy a nice dinner… and maybe see where the night takes us after that.”

The promise in his tone made my pulse quicken, and I found myself biting my lip to hide a smile. He was clearly setting the tone for a romantic night, but I had other plans. If he thought we were just here for a quiet dinner, he was in for a surprise.

As we looked over the menu, I let my hand rest on his forearm, tracing gentle circles with my fingers. “You really do clean up nicely,” I murmured, leaning in closer, my shoulder pressing against his.

“Yeah?” His gaze met mine, a flicker of curiosity mixed with amusement. “Glad you approve.”

“Oh, I more than approve,” I whispered, letting my fingers drift down from his forearm to his wrist, barely brushing his skin. “It’s almost… distracting.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?”

I didn’t answer, just gave him a slow, knowing smile as my hand shifted to rest on his thigh, just above his knee. It was innocent enough at first, just a light touch as if for balance, but I saw the slight shift in his expression, the flicker of awareness in his eyes.

“Looking forward to the food?” I asked, my fingers tracing small circles just above his knee, barely brushing the fabric of his trousers.

He cleared his throat, giving me a sidelong glance as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, I—uh, heard good things about this place.”

“Me too,” I replied, letting my hand inch a little higher, my fingers moving with slow, deliberate intent. “But I think I might be in the mood for something a little more… exciting.”

His gaze flicked down to my hand, then back up to meet my eyes. “Oh yeah?” he murmured, trying to sound casual, but I could see the tension building in his jaw.

I nodded, biting my lip as I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze before letting my hand drift higher.

He let out a shaky breath, his hand coming to rest over mine, trying to still my movements. But I could feel his pulse quicken beneath my touch, his fingers tightening over mine. “Y/N…” he warned softly, his voice low and full of tension.

“Yes?” I blinked up at him, feigning innocence.

He opened his mouth to reply, but just then, the waiter arrived with our drinks, forcing Hank to sit back and try to compose himself. He released my hand reluctantly, giving me a look that promised consequences later.

Just as my fingers inched a little further up his thigh, I could see Hank’s breathing deepen, his hand subtly tightening around his drink. Sensing his growing tension, I pulled my hand back, giving him a sweet, innocent smile that had him raising an eyebrow in barely veiled suspicion.

We quickly shifted our focus to the menu, exchanging glances and comments as we made our choices. We ordered, and as soon as the waiter left Hank relaxed back into his seat, looking at me with a mix of amusement and something darker in his gaze. “You’re enjoying yourself a little too much, aren’t you?”

I shrugged, leaning in close enough that he’d feel the heat of my breath. “What can I say? You did tell me to relax and enjoy the night,” I murmured, my lips brushing the edge of his ear.

He gave me a long, considering look, as if trying to decide just how much trouble I intended to be tonight. But before he could say anything more, the clinking of plates interrupted, and our waiter arrived with the starters, momentarily pulling our attention back to the table.

As we started eating, I picked up a bite-sized piece from my plate and held it up to his lips. “Here,” I said, my voice soft as I guided it towards him.

Hank raised an eyebrow but opened his mouth, letting me feed him. As I pulled my hand away, I let my fingers linger just a little, brushing against his lips. His eyes held mine, and for a moment, the air between us thickened, charged with something unspoken.

“Behave,” he whispered, his voice a mix of amusement and warning, though the smile on his lips told me he was enjoying every second. But I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him tonight. Where was the fun in that?

I leaned back, reaching for my wine glass with a little smirk. “I don’t know what you mean,” I replied innocently, letting my fingers drift under the table until they found his knee.

He shot me a knowing look but said nothing, focusing on his food as if he weren’t completely aware of the way my fingers were now tracing slow, lazy circles on his knee. I took my time, letting the conversation flow naturally, laughing and chatting as though I wasn’t slowly inching my hand a little higher every now and then.

“You keep that up, and we might not make it through dessert,” he whispered, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

I tilted my head, feigning innocence even as my fingers dared to edge closer. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as if to regain control, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darkened with each subtle movement of my hand. The waiter returned with our main courses, and as the plates were placed in front of us, I pulled my hand back, giving Hank a sweet, innocent smile that earned me an arched eyebrow and a look of barely contained amusement.

As soon as we were left alone again, we dug into our meals, exchanging glances and casual conversation. But I didn’t wait long before letting my hand drift back under the table, settling once more on his thigh. This time, Hank placed his hand over mine, as if to keep it in place—but his grip was loose, giving me just enough freedom to continue my gentle exploration.

As I edged higher, my fingertips grazed over the firmness building beneath the fabric of his trousers, and I felt him twitch beneath my touch. His breath hitched ever so slightly, but he quickly masked it, taking a sip of his drink, his grip tightening around the glass as though it could anchor him.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a hint of warning beneath the amusement. But his hand didn’t stop me; if anything, it seemed to press mine down just a little more firmly against him, almost like he was encouraging me.

I let my fingers roam a bit further, tracing along the outline of his growing cock, feeling it harden under my touch. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as though trying to keep his cool, but the slight twitch under my hand betrayed him. It was intoxicating, knowing I was getting to him even in this public setting, pushing him to the edge while we sat mere feet away from other diners.

“Still enjoying dinner?” I whispered, my fingers pressing just a bit more firmly against his bulge, eliciting a barely audible groan from him.

He shot me a look, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and barely-contained desire. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he replied, his voice low, each word measured as though he was struggling to keep it steady. But I could tell from the way his cock twitched beneath my hand that he was right on the brink.

I leaned in close, letting my lips brush his ear as I whispered, “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

For a moment, he seemed to grapple with himself, torn between the need to stay composed and the growing desire that was making him shift restlessly in his seat. I gave him one last, teasing press against his hardness, feeling him pulse beneath my touch, before I finally withdrew my hand, taking a sip of my wine as though nothing had happened.

Hank’s gaze lingered on me, dark and intense, and I could see the promise in his eyes—a promise that whatever restraint he’d shown tonight wouldn’t last much longer. And the thought made me bite back a smile, my own anticipation growing for what was sure to come once we had a bit more privacy.

As soon as our main courses were done, I let my hand drift back to Hank’s thigh, resuming those slow, maddening circles I knew were driving him crazy. His whole body tensed, and he shot me a look, one part warning, the other pure, dark hunger.

He swallowed, shifting slightly in his seat as if that would somehow help him regain control. “Y/N…” he began, his voice low and strained. But there was no real conviction behind it, and I knew he was close to breaking.

“Hmm?” I murmured, keeping my face perfectly innocent as my hand moved with deliberate, teasing slowness over his thigh, edging higher until I was more than just brushing against his now rock-hard cock. My fingers pressed firmly, tracing his length in a way that left no room for subtlety. I could feel the heat radiating through his trousers, the hard, undeniable evidence of just how much he wanted me.

“Something wrong?” I asked, my tone light, almost playful, as my hand lingered, pressing slightly, feeling him throb under my touch.

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his hand shot to mine, gripping it tightly, but instead of stopping me, his fingers seemed to hold me in place, as if torn between restraint and surrender. His eyes blazed with a mix of frustration and barely controlled desire, flicking down to my hand and then back to my face, his breaths shallow. He was right on the edge, his control fraying, and the thrill of knowing I could unravel him this way sent a shiver through me.

Finally, with a shaky exhale, he dropped his napkin onto the table. “That’s it,” he muttered, his voice so low only I could hear, and in one smooth movement, he got up, pulling me with him. His hand wrapped firmly around mine as he led us out, leaving the table without a glance back.

“Hank,” I whispered, a laugh escaping as I tried to keep up with his pace. “The bill—”

“Taken care of,” he replied through gritted teeth, not slowing down as we made our way to the exit. “But you… we’re not done.”

Once outside, he wasted no time flagging down a cab, barely containing himself as he held the door open for me. The tension between us was electric, thickening the air around us as he slid into the cab, his hand resting possessively on my thigh, his grip firm as if he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance.

As we settled in the back seat, he kept himself composed, but his hand stayed on my leg, his thumb brushing slow, torturous circles that only heightened the anticipation humming between us. Every so often, he’d shoot me a look—a mix of impatience and something darker, a promise of what was to come once we were finally alone.

The cab ride felt endless, the city lights blurring past as he kept his hand on my thigh, fingers tightening every time I shifted closer, teasing him just a little more. By the time we pulled up outside my place, his restraint was practically hanging by a thread. He handed the driver cash without a word, his gaze locked on me, smouldering with barely veiled intent as we hurried up to my door.

I unlocked the door, stepping into the centre of the room, turning to face him as he closed the door with a quiet click, the finality of it sending a thrill through me. I didn’t have to wait long; he was on me in an instant, striding over and closing the distance with a dark, hungry look in his eyes.

Without a word, he reached for me, fingers sliding into my hair and giving it a firm, grounding tug that tilted my head back, exposing my neck to him. His mouth was there in an instant, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my skin, each one leaving a trail of heat.

His free hand slipped up, wrapping gently around my throat, thumb resting just beneath my jaw, keeping my gaze locked with his. The weight of his touch sent a rush of heat through me, his fingers firm but careful, a perfect blend of dominance and restraint. His other hand stayed buried in my hair, holding me close as his lips crashed against mine in a kiss that was raw, intense, and completely consuming.

I gasped against his mouth, the sensation overwhelming, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss, leaving me breathless. My fingers found the waistband of his trousers, fumbling slightly in my eagerness as I reached for the zip, tugging it down. I slipped my hand inside, through the fly, and felt him shudder as I closed my fingers around him, his cock hard and hot in my hand. The quiet groan that escaped him only spurred me on, my thumb brushing along his length as I felt him pulse against my touch.

A low growl escaped his throat, and he pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes dark with a mixture of frustration and need. His hand moved from my neck to the buttons on my dress, his fingers curling around the fabric. In one swift, determined motion, he yanked, popping the buttons open, the sound of each one tearing free echoing in the silence of the room.

The fabric parted, falling open from my chest down to my waist, exposing the bare curves beneath, my skin flushed under his heated gaze. His eyes dropped, and his breathing grew heavier as he took in the sight of me, a fierce hunger etched across his face, his restraint unraveling moment by moment.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough with want, his thumb grazing the base of my throat, feeling the rapid beat of my pulse beneath his touch. His eyes flicked back up to mine, and then he was on me again, kissing me with a fervour that was almost bruising, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw, holding me steady as if to keep me exactly where he wanted.

With a low growl, he deepened the kiss, his mouth claiming mine in a way that left no space between us, his hand moving down from my jaw to slide over my collarbone, fingers pressing firmly as he traced the edge of the open dress. I felt his other hand slip around to my waist, gripping me tightly, pulling me flush against him as his body pressed me backwards, forcing me to stumble slightly in my heels until I felt the cool edge of the countertop behind me.

I gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment, but his lips found my neck instantly, biting and sucking in a way that sent sparks straight down my spine. His hands roamed over my bare skin, fingers digging into my hips, guiding me until I was perched on the edge of the countertop, the cool surface a sharp contrast against the heat between us.

He didn’t waste a second, his hand sliding up my thigh, rough and insistent, moving higher until his fingers found the fabric of my underwear. His breath was ragged against my skin, and his hand paused only for a moment before he yanked them aside, his touch sending a shockwave through me as he explored my dripping cunt with rough precision, leaving me gasping.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered against my neck, his voice rough with need, his words heavy with a raw, possessive edge that sent a shiver down my spine. He didn’t wait for a response, just pulled back enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an unrestrained hunger. His thumb brushed over my clit, slow and deliberate, teasing, relentless.

I gasped as he slid his other hand lower, guiding his cock to press against me, the heat and hardness of him leaving no space between us. His mouth claimed mine again, swallowing my moan as he thrust forward, filling me completely in a single, powerful motion that stole my breath. My hands flew to his shoulders, fingers digging in as he set a hard, unrelenting rhythm, each thrust deep and rough, fuelled by a barely contained intensity.

Every movement sent a wave of heat spiralling through me, the pace building faster as he held me tight, his grip firm and unyielding. His mouth never left mine, the kiss as desperate and hungry as his movements, his breath hot against my lips. The taste of him, the feel of him moving inside me, was dizzying, overwhelming, as he pushed us both closer to the edge, the raw urgency between us leaving no room for restraint.

The intensity between us escalated, his pace quickening as I clung to him, both of us lost in the overwhelming need that had been building all night. Every movement drove us closer, each sensation heightened, until finally, I felt him tense, a low groan escaping his lips. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged as he held me tight, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of raw desire and hesitation.

“Sweetheart…” he murmured, his voice thick with urgency. “Can I… come on you?”

The request sent a thrill through me, and I met his gaze, nodding. “Yes,” I whispered, a smile tugging at my lips. He pulled out, barely keeping control as I took over, wrapping my hand around him with purpose.

I kept my strokes steady, watching his jaw clench, his breath hitching with every movement. His eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and full of anticipation as I quickened my pace, guiding him right to the edge.

With a groan, he finally let go, his release spilling over my stomach in warm, rhythmic pulses. He shuddered, his breathing ragged, eyes softening as he looked at me, satisfaction mingling with a deeper warmth in the shared moment.

After a beat, he pulled away slightly, reaching for a nearby dish towel, his movements gentle as he carefully wiped me clean, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Sorry about the mess,” he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

I smiled, my fingers tracing light patterns along his back. “Nothing to apologise for,” I whispered, still catching my breath, feeling the pleasant ache of the intensity we’d shared.

He stayed close, brushing his thumb gently over my cheek, his gaze lingering on me with a warmth that felt almost tender in the aftermath of everything we’d shared. The silence between us was comfortable, a quiet moment filled with unspoken words and lingering glances, our breaths slowly steadying as the world around us softened.

Eventually, he straightened, a hint of that familiar grin returning to his face as he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “I think I owe you a proper dessert after that.”

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. “Oh, is that so?”

He smirked, his fingers tracing a line down my arm before intertwining with mine. “Absolutely. But first…” He gave my hand a squeeze, a playful spark in his eyes. “Maybe we should start with round two.”

I felt my cheeks heat up as he leaned in, brushing his lips over mine in a kiss that was somehow softer, yet just as filled with promise. And as he pulled me closer, I couldn’t help but smile, already lost in the anticipation of what the night still held.

[fayes-fics]

Praise

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: DaddyDom Anthony praises his little girl...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dom/sub dynamic, daddydom/little girl (DDLG), praise kink, smidge of dirty talk, hair pulling, smidge of nipple play, spanking, riding, woman on top.

Word Count: 1.2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. About two hours ago, I asked my lovely Discord mutuals to jumpstart my smut muse with a kink to write a blurb for. They gave me Daddy Kink and Praise Kink. And, errr, this is what I came up with. My peeps, you know who you are, this is for you <3

His knuckles run down your cheek as you stare up at him adoringly. You’ve been waiting for him, obediently knelt on the plush rug near the roaring fire, naked except for your jewellery, just like he told you to. Now he’s here; you cannot wait to please him.

“Good little girl, looking so pretty on your knees,” Anthony compliments, his signet ring cool against your heated skin.

You blossom under his flattering words, rocking slightly, anticipation burning in your belly at what he will have you do.

“Please, Daddy, may I have a treat?” you ask sweetly, eyelashes fluttering.

He chuckles. “What treat is that, hmm?” the tone teasing as he grasps your hair and tilts your head back, towering over you, the toe of his boots abutting your kneecap.

“Whatever you wish to give me,” you breathe, pitching forward to nuzzle his trousers, enjoying the warm, burgeoning mass there, his scent making your mouth water.

“Excellent answer, little one,” he groans, letting you rub your face briefly before gripping your roots and pulling you away. “As much as I love your mouth, I think I want you to work a little harder tonight. How would you like to ride for your daddy? Hmm? What do you say?  His smile is wolfish as he removes the hand from your hair.

You nod enthusiastically and stay kneeling as you watch him back up a couple of steps and take a seat in the oversized wingback chair right by the fire. Your breath speeds up as you watch him roughly tug open his trousers and free himself, the leather creeping under his hips as he does so.

“Crawl to me,” he orders, and you drop to your hands and knees, moving the few feet towards him bright-eyed, excited.

“Good little girl,” he cups your jaw as you come to a halt between his splayed knees. “Now, did you touch yourself like I told you to?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod happily.

“So you are nice and wet for me?” he checks, his thumb sweeping slowly over your bottom lip.

“Yes, Daddy,” you confirm.

Even if you weren’t before, you would be by now regardless, butterflies in your gut as you watch him lazily pumping his cock in his other fist. 

“Such a pretty obedient thing,” he sighs approvingly, “alright then, climb aboard, little one,” he smirks, removing the hand from your chin and patting his thigh invitingly. 

You scramble into his lap eagerly, guiding yourself over him, holding onto his shoulder as you sink onto his steely cock, pushing you open in a way just this side of painful.

“You are so big, Daddy,” you puff as you sink slowly, adjusting to his girth as you always have to—every time, it takes you by surprise.

“You can do it, my girl,” he responds through gritted teeth. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to surge up into you. “Do not stop,” he warns.

You exhale a shaky breath as you push the last of the way down, sitting split open on him, feeling so viscerally full. 

“Oh, Daddy,” you sigh wondrously and touch his face.

He smiles indulgently before his hands wrap around your hips, fingers flexing, encouraging you to move. So you do, raising a little and dropping back down.

“That's it, little girl, ride me,” he murmurs, leaning back into the chair, watching you with a contented, almost smug expression. 

So very keen, you start to undulate on him, sliding up and down, revelling in his cock pushing your walls wide with each move, every ridge and vein dragging against all the right places as if it were made just for you.

“You look so beautiful,” he lauds, “does my little girl like riding my cock?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you respond brightly, pitching forward. “May I kiss you?”

“Of course, baby girl,” he smiles against your lips and pulls you in for a deep plundering kiss that steals your breath and scatters your thoughts. You pause in your movements; sat with him deep inside, your hands curling around his neck, fingers toying with the hint of curls at his nape.

There is a sudden sting on your left bottom cheek, and you squeak into his mouth. 

“Who said you could stop riding?” He scolds affectionately, knowing the spank is hardly punishment; it makes you clench around him, a shudder running down your spine.

“More, please, Daddy,” you request meekly, and he chuckles richly.

“Naughty little thing,” his responding smirk growing bigger as he spanks your other cheek.

You groan loudly as both of his hands slide up around the sides of your body and capture the curve of your breasts. He pinches both your nipples harshly between thumb and forefingers, making you cry out. His grip still so your skin pulls taunt as you rise and fall. Riding harder now, you moan as he hisses his approval; your movements get bolder, more decisive, pressing hard down onto him.

“You ride me so well, baby girl,” he commends, his words melting something inside you, wanting to do anything he asks. 

A glow breaks over your body with the heat of the fire prickling your skin as you keep rising, his cupped hand sweeping back down to your bottom, spanking your cheeks as they bloom under his ministrations.

“Don’t you dare stop,” he gasps, his breathing becoming uneven as it feels like he is growing steelier inside you, approaching his peak.

You keep going, your thighs starting to tremble and burn with the effort of your movements, quicker by the second, chasing your satisfaction, too, your clit throbbing and burning hot as it drags against him with each move you make.

“Just like that,” he groans, his fingers stiffening on your hips, digging into your flesh, leaving marks. “Make daddy come, baby girl.”

You splay your knees wider and tilt your pelvis to get more traction, and he cries out words of praise; you slam down onto him, his cock so hard and huge at this angle you whimper with every pass, his heated damp forehead presses into your throat where he curls into you.

He’s swearing and clawing at your fleshy bottom now, so very close to coming. 

“Don’t stop, my darling little girl, you make your daddy feel so good,” he growls, and those words in that rough gravelly cadence are what tip you over, your peaked nipples abrading roughly on his wool lapels.

You call out as you break, your cunt convulsing hard around his cock, clamping down, making him snarl and bear his teeth as the flames fan around your body, each cell snapping and rearranging, muscles clenching and releasing in waves. You feel his incisors scrape your jugular and then a guttural noise as he stills, then his hips jerking almost violently, his seed blooming hot deep inside you.

You slump onto him, panting from the exertion and quivering from your ecstatic high.

“Good baby girl,” he murmurs, running soothing strokes over your back before pulling you upright slightly off him. “Whose my clever little one?” He cups your face and drops tiny kisses on your lips.

“I am Daddy,” you murmur, smiling satedly as he runs soothing fingers over your flushed cheekbones.

“Yes you are, baby girl, yes you are.”

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

[baldurs-gape]

Mosh Pit

A heavy metal concert was the perfect cover for whatever meeting Cazador was conducting. It was loud, dark and nobody gave a flying shit about what anybody else was doing. Astarion hated it despite the music being good. While Cazador blended into the crowd effortlessly in his chunky boots, long black hair and cloak, Astarion couldn't look any more out of place. A purple top with golden seams, brown trousers that were as tight as skin, boots which had as much gold thread as the top. His role was to draw gazes, people would remember him, not Cazador who was one of many in the crowd.

Whatever the deal was, it wasn't going well judging by Cazador's stony expression. Then there was the gesture towards Astarion and his stomach dropped. He had given up so much, hopes and dreams were not only put on hold, they were actively demolished until all Astarion had left was Cazador. And now he was being beckoned over. Dread filling his stomach, Astarion did as told. Twirled like a piece of meat, smiled when Cazador glared at him. With each passing, assessing look cast his way, Astarion's chest tightened. He couldn't do it. Not even a question of whether he would, he simply couldn't. The last vestiges of himself and his dignity were going to have to be pried out of his cold dead hands. And Cazador was absolutely going to kill him for this. One step back. Two. A flirty smile and turn. And bolt. The crowd was thick, jumping in time, pressed close together but Astarion pushed, shoved, wriggled through any gap he could find to evade Cazador's reaching hand behind him. There! A space! A clear areas to dash through. Astarion stumbled into the suddenly empty area right as Cazador's hand gripped his shirt and pulled. The material was so old, repaired one too many times and it ripped under the strain, sending Astarion sprawling onto the floor.

"Hold!" Someone yelled but Astarion was too busy trying to scramble to his feet while also covering up as much as he could. A pair of worn boots drifted into his view. They were similar to what Cazador wore but were obviously worn in and comfortable, the leather cared for but weathered, buckles no longer reflective from how they'd been scuffed through heavy use. The owner of the boots crouched down and smiled. Eyes crinkled, long brown hair half tied back, Astarion's first thought was that he'd died and the Christians of all people had been right.

"Jesus?"

A t-shirt was draped over him with a laugh as apparently not-Jesus shrugged back into the sleeveless jacket that he'd been tearing over the t-shirt.

"Gale, actually."

There were more feet around them and Astarion sat up, trying to see Cazador in the crowd. He just about saw him, glaring and trying to get past a large woman whose biceps were the size of his head. Despite his glaring and demands, she wasn't budging.

It was only then that Astarion realised how quiet it had gone. The music stopped, a light was being directed towards them.

"Everything alright?" The lead singer asked as she squinted into the crowd.

Hurriedly, Astarion yanked on the offered t-shirt, not even caring that it was sweat damp and cooling.

"All good, Lae," the woman with her back to them hollered back. Next to her a man with a false eye sent a thumbs up over the crowd as he glanced back at Gale and Astarion. In the light, Astarion could just about make out the numerous tattoos that decorated him, and the woman who was guarding him. Turning back to Gale, his tattoos were visible too, arms and chest covered in a variety of patterns.

Once back on his own feet, Gale ushered Astarion to the edge of the clear area. The music picked up again and those who had jumped to Astarion's protection stepped out of the way. Cazador looked livid as he began to march towards them. Only, as Astarion glanced to Gale, he saw the man smile.

"Wall of Death!" Gale roared and the space collapsed as the crowd surged in, smashing into each other. Cazador was swallowed up by them, caught in the frenzy of the mosh pit.

Meanwhile, Gale turned and gestured for Astarion to follow. They took one of the back exits, Gale clearly familiar with the bouncers, nodding to the huge man with half his head covered in a purple tattoo as they passed.

"Are you alright?"

Those were the first words Gale said as soon as they were out in the cold, fresh air. It made Astarion hesitate before trying to brush it all off, "Never better, darling. You were most heroic."

That seemed to put a blush on Gale's face as he looked away. Something darkened in his expression before being replaced by gentle sadness.

"I won't insult you by telling you what to do or that you deserve better. But please know that there are ways out and help is there if you need it." Finally, Gale's eyes met his. "I've been there. You're not alone if you don't want to be."

Which sounded ridiculous to Astarion. He almost scoffed. However, he had tried to run and even he knew that literally running from your supposed friend/landlord/fuck buddy/boss was not the sign of a working, functional or healthy relationship.

For a first meeting, it was an interesting one. Not many people could claim that they met their love when being rescued from a wall of death. There was so much more to Gale, and his group of friends than Astarion had realised of would have even assumed. After all he'd seen, meeting Gale after he finished work was a bit of a shock. Without thick lines of makeup around his eyes and dark lipstick covering his lips, hair done up in a sensible bun, he might as well have been a totally different person. Shirt and tie hid all tattoos and were so far removed from the leather sleeveless jacket that actually didn't have any buttons. He was every inch the professor and not the metalhead with earrings that Astarion had met. Over coffee the tie had come off and the sleeves got rolled up which didn't really help the dissonance of his identity but reassured Astarion that he hadn't accidentally set something up with Gale's identical twin or uncanny lookalike.

"If you thought I was bad, you should see Wyll or Karlach."

Karlach, it turned out, was a children's doctor while Wyll was a banker in the city. Astarion had almost laughed at that until learning that the singer, Lae'zel was a friend of theirs, was a museum curator by day and heavy metal singer by night.

They all welcomed Astarion into their little group. Gale was more than happy to give him lifts on his motorbike which the others only fondly referred to as the 'Dekarios Hog' and laughed while Astarion didn't understand. Shadowheart's snide "he's always got something seriously large between his legs" felt like a jab. Until Astarion learned firsthand that it was the truth.

Rather than focus on his budding friendships and relationship, Astarion found himself figuring out what he liked without Cazador there to mock and judge him. Heavy metal was definitely up there on his list but he couldn't quite bring himself to fully embrace the culture as such. By which he meant that while he looked great in anything, the solid blacks just wasn't his style. Since breaking free of Cazador, Astarion was finding he couldn't stomach the way he'd had to dress before.

"My little pastel goth," Gale teased him gently as they gathered at the cafe near Lae'zel's next concert.

In turn, Astarion could only smile. He wasn't yet used to the jingling of the earrings and had a tendency to fidget with the piercing in his tongue. But mostly, he couldn't wait to take off his pastel pink hoodie to show Gale the tattoo currently wrapped in foil. Much to his surprise, it hadn't hurt, the burn of the needle a calming scratch more than anything else. Perhaps the others had a lovely point about getting so many tattoos. Astarion couldn't wait to catch up.

[ilovespec]

Shark Love ~

Yandere Fem ! Gang leader × civilian Fem ! reader. Part 1

WARNING!!!: description OF SEVERE WOUNDS , swearing in Italian , yandere has anger problems, just fucking gang members , YANDERE HERSELF IS THE LEADER of THE GANG , a small description of torture , a sadistic character , Yandere is a female , and Y/N too.

6834 words

part 2

part 3

Today, Y/N has finally started life with a clean slate.. Finally she moved to a new city! There were just some strange moments... Firstly.. Housing prices are too pleasant... Secondly, salaries are higher here than in her city.. And what is even more strange.... There are too many jobs and vacant houses here... Maybe it 's just not such a busy city , and that 's a good thing! Then no one will make noise under the windows at night! Although there will be no noise under the windows, much worse things will happen..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Y/N has already managed to find a job! She got a job in an office, which fortunately was next to her house! And that's a little weird... Next to the house where her apartment was.. Strange people often hung around.. Namely, unusually tall and muscular women and men..covered in scars and tattoos... Perhaps it's just avid bikers ..? Really .. Yes ..? After all, when selling her apartment, the realtor did not tell her that this is a criminal area...!!! It's possible that she's just winding herself up and it's just bikers... But for some reason, their clothes don't look very much like biker ones... Tank tops without sleeves...polo shirts... Turtlenecks... Sweatpants or classic trousers, formal suits with ties.... And not a single hint of leather jackets or other biker stuff... Which is strange... Okay, maybe Y/N just developed a little paranoia......

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

It was late in the evening...Y/N was returning home from work... It was already about 7-8 o'clock in the evening... Suddenly ! She heard screams of pain, agony, and sobs from the alley... Foolishly, Y/N came unsteadily, looked into the alley and was horrified.... THERE WAS A GUY BLEEDING ON THE GROUND!!! His left hand was already missing fingers and half of the skin... And it is clear that the wound has already slightly festered due to the dirt.. There were already many burns on his right hand , and 3 fingers were broken .. HIS FACE DIDN 'T EVEN FUCKING RESEMBLE A FACE , BUT MINCED MEAT !!! And all this was done to him , and the strange girl continued to do it ..next to her , on the asphalt lay bloody pliers, a hammer, a dagger and various other scary sharp things covered in blood.. She was wearing a black turtleneck, and black classic trousers with lace-up boots.. She had long, grey hair slightly disheveled to the waist, and pale skin... Y/N couldn't see her face because this girl had her back to her.. And she kept torturing the poor guy.. But after a couple of seconds, SHE TURNED AROUND AND STARED AT Y/N WITH A SADISTIC GRIN!! She has narrow brown eyes, Asian facial features and quite a few scars on her face..

- CLEARLY A FUCKING DANGEROUS GIRL: ohh~ what kind of cute lamb wandered in here ~ you look like you're going to faint~ ah, aren't you having fun? ~ I'm just punishing this pathetic insect who betrayed the boss and gave out important information to another gang~

Y/N backed away, and met something solid with her back. She thought it was a wall... But this creepy and dangerous girl stared at this "wall" that was behind Y/N, and stuttered slightly..

- CLEARLY A FUCKING DANGEROUS GIRL: O-oh... B-Boss.... Haha.. B-But I'm c-conducting an interrogation.. Oh, I w-was about to t-take that g-girl down.. B-Boss don't w-worry-

This OBVIOUSLY dangerous girl broke off at the end of her word because this supposedly wall, which turned out to be a woman, jerked from behind Y/N AND PUNCHED HER RIGHT IN THE FACE OF THIS GIRL , and began shouting obviously furious words ... Uhhh... What language is this...? Italian seems to be...

-A strange savior: MIKI MORI HAI GIÀ SUPERATO IL LIMITE !!! QUESTA DOLCE RAGAZZA È UNA CITTADINA ORDINARIA CHE È APPENA PASSATA E DEVI TROVARE UN POSTO MIGLIORE PER INTERROGARE, VEDI QUANTO È SPAVENTATO QUESTO AGNELLO, HAH?!!?! HAH?!!??

While her strange savior was yelling at this dangerous girl.. And her savior was ALSO CLEARLY MORE DANGEROUS THAN THIS GIRL MANY TIMES OVER !! Y/N was able to see it... Her approximate height was 6'5 feet, she had Italian facial features (which is clear from the language she is shouting in now)... She has a rather unusual hairstyle... Short, like a man's.. And the coloring of her hair is a little strange.. Each of her strands alternates between white and yellow ... She has tanned skin.. Blue eyes... Broad shoulders and A LOT OF SCARS ON HER ARMS!! a small piercing on the lower lip and on the left eyebrow... There is a scar on the left side of her jaw.. And there's a longish scar on her right eye, like an animal wound.. And the scariest and strangest thing about her.. SHE'S GOT FUCKING TEETH ALMOST LIKE A SHARK'S!!! THE TIPS OF HER TEETH ARE SHARPENED , FUCK!!! It's scary.. But at the same time it suits her strangely..She is wearing a grey polo shirt, black trousers, a black leather belt with an iron plaque, and classic black leather shoes..AND ABRUPTLY !! Someone gently grabbed her armpits and carried her out of the alley like a cat...

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

It was.. More simply, but also a menacing-looking girl..She has dark brown hair..It's also a man's haircut, but a longer one.. German and soft facial features.. Blue eyes.. Prominent cheekbones..FUCK !! SHE HAS A SCAR STRETCHING FROM THE LEFT CORNER OF HER MOUTH AND PROTRUDING FANGS LIKE AN ANIMAL!!! Piercing of the left eyebrow and piercing in the ears.. A scar on her neck.. AND THERE ARE A LOT OF FUCKING SCARS ON HER HANDS TOO!! She is wearing a white sleeveless T-shirt, black sweatpants with a white stripe on their right side, a black bandana on her head , and simple black and white sneakers

- Quite a beautiful but threatening girl: Uh... Hi, are you okay..? You better not look.. My boss, the shark, is scolding my friend right now... We call her "dolphin" because of her habits and.. How to say it... An unnecessarily sadistic and evil character... and... uh... well... I'm Martina by the way.. And you? >-<

-Y/N: I'm fine myself.. But I'm pretty scared... uh.. Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N..

As a sign of familiarity, Martina gently patted Y/N on the shoulder.. Her hands are so callused..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

When the furious screams in Italian stopped from the alley, this "boss shark" came out.

-Mysterious and OBVIOUSLY dangerous "boss shark": So, piranha. Take the dolphin to her apartment, and I'll take this carino cittadino to her house..

thisa mysterious and dangerous woman HUGGED HER BY THE SHOULDERS, AND WAVING GOODBYE TO HER SUBORDINATE, CONFIDENTLY WALKED WITH Y/N TO HER HOUSE!!

-A mysterious and OBVIOUSLY dangerous "boss shark": Well.. As far as I remember, ordinary civilians have a bad nervous system, I hope you weren't too "traumatized" by seeing this? There was literally almost a living corpse there..

Y/N shook her head , and continued walking in embarrassment

-Mysterious and OBVIOUSLY dangerous "boss shark": my name is Squalo. I won't tell you my last name, you won't remember it. And as far as I've heard, you're Y/N. Nice name, it suits you..

Squalo gave Y/N a toothy smile, showing her shark teeth..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

A few minutes later they reached her house.

-Squalo: Good night to you, agnello carino~

Squalo ruffled Y/N's hair and winked at her and left with her hands in her pockets... It was definitely an evening...and with a slightly heavy soul, Y/N went into her apartment and went to sleep..

How do you like this part?? in a couple of minutes I'll post a description and drawings of these characters >3<

lol, I'm 100% sure that Squalo will have this on the second wallpaper on the phone : (on the first wallpaper, of course, Y/N.)

Carino cittadino: cute citizen.

Agnello carino: cute lamb

(I think it makes no sense to translate into English just Italian swearing..)

[rewh0re]

─LOVE? I FOUND THAT IN YOU ; MIKAGE REO

-1.4k words, SO much vulnerability from both Reo and reader, they kiss (🤮), smoking, little crying, exes to lovers, angst if you squint really hard tbh, mostly fluff, it was his birthday so I had to write something so here this is, whatever it is tbh. REBLOGS + INTERACTIONS ARE APPRECIATED!!

All Reo ever wanted was you, and to be fair all you ever wanted was him too.

"Since when did you indulge in that?" You knew the source of the voice well. A little too well for your own good.

"Reo," you stated his name as you felt his presence beside you, leaning on the balcony railing much like you had been doing. The only exception was that you held a lit cigarette between your index and middle fingers as you looked at the city below and he kept his gaze fixed on you, a lazy smile on his lips.

You knew you would come across him. It was Nagi's party at the end of the day and wherever Nagi went, Reo was bound to be seen. So you were not really surprised. You just didn't expect him to catch you smoking on the balcony alone, staring at the city lights and the zooming cars below.

"What? Not liking the party very much?" You heard him ask softly, not really earning the courage to look at him yet.

"I just needed a smoke and I needed some time alone. You know that crowds aren't my thing," you sighed, taking a drag off of the harmful stick.

"Yeah I guessed so," you saw him shake his head from your peripheral vision. "Cigarettes then? Really? After being dead against smoking?"

"You don't have to chastise me. I've already been chastised by enough people around," you finally got the courage to look at the man you once called your own. It hurt, truly, it did but you were not really the type to show your hurt. You were never really good at communication or expressing your feelings which led to the downfall of your two year relationship with Reo. Really, you could not even blame him. He tried his best but you were too scared to keep going.

"Oh no I am not chastising you. I don't have the right anymore y/n, I was simply a bit shocked is what," he smiled in a soft and sad manner. It was the same smile he gave you when you left him. You remembered it as clearly as a midsummer's day to be fair. It haunted you day and night.

"Nagi told me something about you that had me quite...well....for the lack of better words, stunned," you seemed nervous, fiddling with the dainty necklace on your neck. Playing with the pendant, you ignored his amused gaze as he hummed in response.

"He told me about a certain picture in your wallet," you tapped the ash of your cigarette and saw it float away with the chilly wind of the night.

"Ah, you mean this," Reo let out a slow chuckle as he reached for the back pocket of his trousers, taking out a leather Gucci wallet. He opened the wallet and took out a picture that was taken last year on his birthday.

You stared at it with something akin to nostalgia in your eyes. It was a Polaroid of the two of you. A cake kept on the table as he kissed your cheek, two widely smiling faces. Times were good back then, you thought.

"I swore I'd keep it with me didn't I?" He chuckled again, keeping the picture back as he put away his wallet to focus his eyes on your face. "I don't really mean to break it anytime soon."

"Why are you doing this to yourself Reo?" You closed your eyes, looking away.

You couldn't stand him. You couldn't stand his perfect self who loved you so perfectly. You couldn't stand how he embraced your flaws, flaws that even you couldn't embrace and always provided solace to you when you felt lost in your own mind. You couldn't stand how even when you left him, he didn't find it in himself to hate you. You never hated him either. All you ever wanted since the day you made the wretched decision to leave him, was to run back and into his arms. To hold onto him like your life depended on it and never let him go, ever again.

"That's a stupid question from someone as smart as you," he put your hair behind your ear, the same look of distinct adoration in his eyes that he had held before.

"Give me that," he took the cigarette from your hand and took a drag out of it bursting out into a fit of cough. His scrunched nose and disgusted look made you laugh. A genuine laugh, that he missed so much.

"God how the fuck do you smoke that, it's absolutely disgusting," he handed the stick back to you.

"Takes a bit of practice but it grows on you," you laughed again.

"You haven't changed a bit Reo," your hands trailed up to his collar, swatting away the bit of ash that had fallen on it. 

"I hope you mean that in a good way," he took a hold of your hand on his collar and brought it up to his lips, leaving a chaste kiss on it.

"I mean that in the best way," you glided your thumb across his lower lip before cupping his cheek. He leaned into it. At the end of the day, Mikage Reo would do anything to receive the slightest tinge of affection from you.

"Come back to me y/n. It's been hell for me these past couple of months and seeing that Marlboro between your lips, I know it has been for you too. Come back, please," he closed his eyes, keeping your hand in its place on his cheek. 

"I'm scared Reo," you finished your cigarette, crushing it under your foot as you pulled his face closer to yours and touched your forehead to his.

"I'm scared I'll ruin us again. I'm scared I'll mess it up for us yet again. I'm scared of hurting you," little tears rolled down your face and your voice turned into a hushed whisper. 

"You could never ever hurt me. You hear me? You complete me, baby. Nothing can ever change that. Whatever problems we'll have, we will sort through it, we will talk it through and whatever problems we have it'll be ours. Our problem y/n, not your or my individual problems, but ours. I want you, I want to go through all of this together with you. Every one of my achievements, I want to achieve them with you standing by my side," he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, so soft that it could be mistaken for a touch of a feather.

"I want to share a drink with you on the balcony on moonlit nights, I want to laugh at all the cat videos together, I want to eat pizza with you on the kitchen floor when we're both too lazy to cook something. I want you to laugh like a maniac when my mother shows you my childhood pictures and tells the story attached to it as I get embarrassed. I want it all y/n and I want it with you," he finished and you didn't quite know what to say to all that. He always had that effect on you, rendering you speechless.

"Always the flatterer," you wrapped your arms around his neck as you giggled a bit. The night breeze brought a sense of comfort and it was the good old days back again. When you felt safe in his arms and it was just the both of you, basking in the tranquility of the love the both of you shared.

"I want it all Reo. I want it all and I want it with you," you nodded your head vigorously as you smiled at him. He returned a wet smile of his own and wiped away the tears from your eyes.

He kissed you then, in the quiet balcony, in the presence of the moon, the city lights and the zooming cars below, he kissed you slowly and passionately. He relaxed against your lips. How much he missed this, how much he missed you. You both let out hushed giggles in between the kiss just like you did when you had kissed for the first time ever.

You broke away and looked in his eyes, a smile on both of your faces.

They reminded you that you were not alone and that he would be with you. Every path you would travel, you would do it together, just like you had promised before. Every vulnerability of yours would be shared by him. No words were exchanged but the admiration in his face told you whatever you needed to know. They consoled the part of you that yearned to be understood. He would always understand you, he always did. Really, if you ever had to talk about love you would talk about Reo because love was wherever Mikage Reo was. Love would always be where Mikage Reo was.

[elaaronpresleysgirl]

Almost made me wanna sin

Summary:Elvis meets an innocent lil girl at church. He's just a big ol cat that needs a mouse.

Chapter 1

At twenty years old, fourty year old Elvis was the first man to put himself inside you. He married you first, of course.

Weather wise the Las Vegas spring was heavenly, warm but not too warm.But aside from the weather, Spring was just as mundane as all the other seasons. Until you met Elvis Presley.

'Normal' eighteen year olds didn't have a curfew, but your life wasn't exactly normal. After your Mom died when you were ten years old, the balance she brought to your discipline died too. Your Father treated you like a Princess..like a Princess that needed to be locked away in a dragon-guarded castle.

Your friends grew tired of the atmosphere the grumpy man created when they would visit, so eventually they stopped visiting at all. They came and went swiftly throughout your teenager years, all but one. The angel that was Daisy King. She was remarkably similar to you, she had grown up without a Mother and her Father was just as strict as yours.

And she had a sweet but mischievous spirit like you. Maybe that was why he seemed to actually like her. You both met at grade school and she was always there through the bad times and the good. He wanted you to have someone solid you could depend on and Daisy had proven herself to be.

Boys were none negotiable though. He had the mindset that boys were only after one thing. And you couldn't deny it was true of most of the boys at your school. They seemed to want to make it their mission to fuck every pretty girl they set eyes on. However there were a select few that were different, sweet boys that Daisy dated on and off.

Boys your own age didn't appeal to you. You were too deeply ashamed to admit it, even to Daisy but you often fantasized about fucking men your fathers age, there was something about the worn out, rugged looks on their faces, their broad, broad shoulders and large hands.

Even at church you would keep an eye out for potential subjects of your fantasies. This time was no different. You had gone to evening mass with Daisy (Under strict instructions to be back straight after) 

You weren't actually interested in anything the priest was saying-you simply went to church because Daisy wanted to and it gave you opportunity to escape your Father's nagging for a little while. So while he spoke you surveyed the pews, eyes focusing on a middle-aged looking man who stood with his head bowed, black baseball cap over thick, raven hair and dark sunglasses over a slightly chubby face.

His hands were covered with leather gloves and he wore a long leather coat, tight black shirt and black trousers. His shirt was so tight in fact, the buttons were straining against his substantial belly. Something you found incredibly arousing. As he looked up you immediately recognised who the man was.

This was the man who's crumbled poster you kept under your pillow for the evenings you'd lock your bedroom door and get into bed, pulling the covers over yourself before retrieving the image of him in his "American Eagle' jumpsuit, microphone in hand. 

You'd hold the poster in front of you with one hand while the middle finger of the other lazily circled your clit. You imagined waiting in his dressing room for him, helping him out of the suit and him urgently fucking you on his dressing table. You'd come so hard from the fantasy of the man, it was almost impossible to stop yourself from crying out.

And now he was right here, in your local church. You blushed hard at the thought he might somehow know you masturbated to his image, but you just couldn't tear your eyes away from him. He was magnetizing. You watched his large hands restlessly move from down by his sides to the pew in front of him until he settled on folding them around himself.

As you were studying his movements his head swiftly turned, catching you off guard. You whipped your own head away from his direction and froze, awkwardly fighting the urge to look back at him. You could feel his stare burning into you without even looking. "What's the matter with you?" Daisy questioned in a hushed voice why you were so shifty.

"Don't turn around, but I'm pretty sure-fuck-I think that's Elvis Presley behind us" You spoke back in a whisper. Daisy chastised you for swearing in God's house but chuckled at the ridiculous notion "Can you not swear here! Yeah right, if Elvis Presley is in this church I'll-" Her sentence cut short when she did the opposite of what you'd said and turned around.

"Shit!" She covered her mouth, shocked at the involuntary curse word that had just escaped. "So all it takes for you to curse in church is Elvis huh? I told you not to look!" You playfully nudged her. "He was looking right at us..well..you..he was looking at you" You knew your best friend was right. You could feel his eyes trained onto you.

All of a sudden the urge not to glance back at Elvis dissipated, overtaken by the thrill of being watched by the Elvis Presley. You first looked back with your gaze fixed to the murky green flooring, landing on his shiny leather boots and travelling over well-filled plain trousers, large brown belt and the strained buttons of his tucked in silk shirt until you gingerly reached his face, his full lips turning at one corner to give you the gorgeous grin you'd seen in magazines so many times. You were just thankful his blue eyes were hidden behind dark large glasses, you were already a burning hot mess and almost certain you would faint at the intensity of the windows to his soul on you.

"He's gonna end up coming over when this service is finished, I bet ya!" Daisy's enthusiasm made her speak a little too loudly and receive disgruntled head shakes from the elderly couple sat opposite. She began to mouth an apology but they had already turned their focus away. "Nah. He's just being nice because he caught me gawping at him. Probably just doesn't want to embarrass me." You whispered into her ear to save getting dirty looks from any more parishioners.

"Well it's not working! You're as red as my dress!" Daisy grabbed hold of the dress in question, leaned towards you and held the fabric of the shoulder near your face, giggling. 

"I am aware, thank you!" You cleared your throat and attempted to compose yourself but neither you or Daisy were able to focus on the service. You never did pay much attention to the priest even on a normal day but it was unusual for Daisy not to be fully immersed. 

After what seemed like a lifetime the service finally finished and you again turned to look at Elvis but to your bitter disappointment he was no longer there. You scanned the pews to ensure he hadn't just moved to another but he hadn't, he was gone.

"UGH. Daisy we had one chance to meet him and now he's GONE.FOREVER." You threw your head back dramatically and let out a whine. "Maybe it's for the best. He does have a bad track record when it comes to girls" Daisy's attempt to console you fell on deaf ears.

"I didn't say I was trying to date him!I just wanted to meet him! Ugh let's just go" You tugged on Daisy's arm, wanting to get out of the place imminently but she protested. "Wait a minute, I wanna speak to Father Carpenter before we go" 

"I wanna speak to Father Carpenter before I go" You mocked her words in a high pitched tone. She didn't bite back though. "You can, I'm going home!" You were frustrated and disappointed you hadn't gotten to meet Elvis..if only you had just thrown caution to the wind and walked over to him or at least smiled back at him.

You walked with Daisy to Father Carpenter where you left her, both saying your goodbyes until tomorrow and you beginning your short journey home. It was now midnight and the streets were dimly lit due to several street lights being busted.

You always assured your Dad Daisy would walk you home but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. As you reached about the half way point to home you could sense something. A gut feeling struck you, like someone was watching. It was when you started to speed up to a more well lit street that you heard a startlingly loud whistle.

Oh fuck. Your mind began working at a million miles per hour, thinking of how you could defend yourself from whoever this creep was. You could now hear the sound of heavy footsteps, becoming closer and closer as your breathing became more and more erratic. 

You just knew you had to run. Thoughts of despair and regret at not listening to your Father when he insisted you shouldn't be out on the streets so late alone flooded your mind, you began to feel like you were running in quick sand and before you knew it a hand latched onto your right shoulder, you trying to scream but no sound would appear.

Then you heard his voice. "Hey, why you out here all alone lil girl?" You could hear the smug smile in his tone. Your knees were already weak and it was some wonder you didn't pass out the way his intense blue eyes pierced into you. You couldn't find any words as you struggled to get your breath back. 

"I'm Elvis Presley. Saw you staring at me back there. You caught my attention, lil girl" He held out a large gloved hand which you shook meekly. "I-I know who you are" Your breath slowly began to return to normal but you stuttered in the presence of this larger than life being. 

He let out a chuckle and looked you up and down, his gaze lingering on your breasts. "I know you do, honey. But I'm not so ignorant as to not still introduce myself. Didn't mean to scare ya. Just hated the thought of a lil thing like yaself leaving herself all vulnerable. There's a lot of bad men out there." 

"I-thank you" You mentally kicked yourself for giving such a lame response. He'd now taken his eyes off of your breasts and returned to looking you directly into your eyes. You couldn't figure out if you preferred him with sunglasses on or not his stare was so nerve-wracking.

"You're more than welcome doll. You not have a father or a young man looking out for ya?" "Yeah. My Father is very protective" You looked at the ground as you spoke. "He can't be that protective, letting ya walk home all on your own. If ya were my little girl I sure as hell wouldn't" Hearing those words come out of Elvis's mouth somehow made you blush.

"Well..." You began to explain how your Father thought you weren't alone but Elvis cut you off, as if what he wanted to say was far more important. 

"A young man?" Elvis tilted his head to one side, expression becoming suddenly serious. "Huh, I-Im sorry?" You were dumbstruck. His plumb lips turned up into a cocky smile. "I'm guessing you don't have a young man looking out for ya either, a boyfriend? I doubt it the way you were undressing me with your eyes" 

You couldn't fathom where to put your beet red face, something Elvis seemed to relish. He seemed to enjoy making you squirm and stutter. "S-s-sorry!" You spat out an apology to the ground and in return got a roaring laugh from Elvis. You prayed that same ground would swallow you up.

"Oh honey! You ain't gotta be sorry, you're only a human being after all! Darling, I enjoy being leered at by pretty things and you are a damn pretty lil thing. Look at me" Your hands began physically trembling as he held your chin up with one hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

"You wanna know something?" His blue eyes had turned dark. You nodded feebly. You weren't at all sure you did want to know, you already felt faint but you daren't not nod. He dipped his head down so his lips were pressed against your ear, his close proximity stiring something underneath your panties.

"You staring at me with those big innocent eyes made my cock awfully hard" You gasped out loud at the vulger words he was whispering but you still couldn't help the heat crawling across your skin "I bet ya do that all the time, don't ya? Make men solid, desperate. That's what I was. Why'd ya think I had to leave the service early? Had to go and relieve myself in the bathroom. In God's house...that's what ya did to me. Almost made me wanna sin right there in the pew!"

"You're doing it to me again, right now" He continued, his southern voice heavy with lust right down your ear. "Feel him, feel just how hard he gets for ya doll" He firmly gripped your wrist pressed your hand over the tent in his trousers, making you moan involuntarily. 

This was the first time you'd ever touched a man down there before and you were shocked at just how big he was. You suddenly felt a wet spot pool in your panties but Elvis withdrew himself from your ear and gently moved your hand away from his groin.

"Think you liked that a bit too much, lil girl. That little moan was music to my damn ears" He let his hand hover over your curves as though he was about to touch you but decided not to. Instead he once again brought his lips to your ear and spoke softly "But I'm not giving you anything tonight. I'm gon' go home and think about you..stroke my cock till I spill all over myself and you're gon' go home and rub that pretty..I know I've not had my eyes on it yet but I just know it's pretty..pussy while you picture me relieving myself just for you" 

Another moan escaped you as you processed just what he was saying. You were slack-jawed, unable to formulate any words. Elvis was doing the talking for the both of you. "I'll see you at church tomorrow, lil girl"

He unexpectedly pecked you on the cheek before he strode off,too quickly disappearing. Leaving you wondering if it was just a dream. You trudged the rest of the way home in a trance-like, highly aroused state to do what Elvis had asked of you.

[izloveshorses]

I didn't teach her that...

canon compliant act ii missing scene, 1.4k. we can never get enough of dimya in their besties era <3 (also on ao3)

The hotel was nice, to say the least. 

Dmitry felt a little like a fish out of water, to be honest, since he had never known such luxury. The lobby alone was grand with its tall marble columns and massive paintings adorning the walls and rich ladies with Chanel on their shoulders and heavy doses of perfume lingering in the air. He and Vlad had found a place to purchase new shirts and trousers and shoes for the pair of them and Anya had a new dress and some kitten heels, needing to look the part of suitable patrons for such an establishment. This was Paris, after all. And since they were right on the Seine, they needed to fit in. 

Vlad had some stipulations to discuss with the concierge before they went out to eat, so Dmitry found a spot on the plush love seat, content with watching the busy Parisians enter and exit. Anya was too excited to sit still. 

“Oh, look!” she said before she even sat down. She’d been saying that nearly all day, Dmitry didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t know how many more famous paintings he had in him, but instead he watched as she moved towards a shiny black piano as grand as the lobby. 

As if transfixed, Anya’s fingers ghosted over the top of the instrument. Dmitry didn’t see any signs and no one stopped them, so he didn’t try to stop her when she sat on the leather seat and opened the fallboard, revealing a row of ivory white keys. Her fingers ran over the keys and then tentatively pressed down on one. Nobody intervened at the sound of the single note. So she plucked a few more, like a child learning to walk. Dmitry grinned. She was always so easily entertained, it was endearing. 

And then out of nowhere, Anya started playing a song, a real song, the melody sounding eerily familiar and new all at once, slowly at first, and then with the surprising confidence of a pianist playing with a full piece orchestra behind her. 

His eyebrows rose. He hadn’t expected that. From across the lobby, he and Vlad made eye contact, equally amazed. I didn’t teach her that, Vlad said with just a mere shrug. 

When the song finished— or when she ran out of notes— Dmitry asked, “Where did you learn that?” 

“I don’t know,” she answered, as if coming out of a trance. He felt stupid for asking. But she didn’t seem lost in a memory, unreachable and haunted, like what had happened countless times since he’d known her. Her eyes were bright and clear, not cloudy with the haze of distant dreams. “I couldn’t tell you who taught me, but I can tell you this was Debussy.”

Dmitry didn’t know what she was talking about, but she tossed a wicked grin over her shoulder and curled her finger at him, beckoning him closer. He hesitated, just for a moment. But how could he resist? His feet pulled him to the open space next to her on the leather stool. Her body was warm against his. She tapped another song, much smoother and shorter, sounding like purple flowers and summer time. 

“This is Beethoven,” she said over the music. Dmitry still didn’t know how to respond, so he just sat dumbly with his hands in his lap. 

It was good to see her like this. She had always been so somber, so grave, so serious. She did carry a certain warmth or joy within her, sure, but back in Russia she had to set that aside for the sake of pragmatism and survival. Now she seemed lighter. Easier. Less tired. Perhaps this was who Anya really was, deep down, when she didn’t have to worry about finding her next meal. Dmitry wondered what type of person Paris would reveal him to be. Who he was without strife.

“I don’t know how you do that,” he finally said when she slowed. 

“It’s easy, here,” she took his wrist and angled his hand over the keys. 

He panicked. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to ruin it.” 

She gave him an unimpressed look. “We’ll play a different song, this one’s a duet.” She manipulated his hand until he was hovering over the correct keys. “Just play this,” she tapped out a simple, one-handed pattern on a set of keys closer to her, “until we’re done.” 

His ears burned, but he did as told, clumsily until it was smooth enough to satisfy her. And then she started a melody in time with his, something plucky and simple and joyful that made her smile with her tongue between her teeth and his own lips tug. 

“It’s a waltz,” she explained as the melody began to repeat itself for a second verse. 

He bit his lip, concentrating on the four notes he was instructed to play. “Maybe this song would’ve helped our dancing.”

She giggled. “Maybe.”

It was a simple song, really. Could’ve repeated for hours or stopped after a single verse. Dmitry thought about messing up on purpose so her hand would have to touch his again, but he thought that was a little pathetic so he didn’t. 

“How do you remember the notes without sheet music?” he asked eventually. 

“It’s not about the notes, necessarily, it’s…” she stopped playing, and so did he, and the silence was abrupt and yawning. “More like muscle memory. Like my body remembers.” 

He nodded. 

“I don’t think I liked playing,” she said in the quiet. The statement was so absurd he laughed. “The lessons must’ve always been awfully inconvenient and tedious.” 

“Well, you’re very good.”

She waved a hand. “These are simple songs. It’s not that impressive.” 

“Still, I don’t think I would make a very good musician. Clumsy fingers.”

“Nonsense. You played this waltz well,” she insisted. 

“Only because you taught me.” 

That made her eyebrows rise. He felt a flush in his neck when he realized what he said, but it was too late to walk it back, so he just stared down at his hands stupidly. This kept happening. Whatever you wanted to call it. No, it wasn’t quite flirting, not yet, but they were toeing that line closer and closer each day. Dmitry couldn’t decide if Anya was amused or delighted by his attempts or what. He couldn’t figure it out. Because, sometimes, he dared to believe she was almost-flirting right back. 

And then a wave of either bravery or stupidity washed over him when he asked, “What was that you were playing a minute ago…”

“Beethoven? Here,” she took his hands again, and he had to bite his lip to keep his smile small, while she showed him what patterns to play. 

He tried focusing on their hands, tried memorizing which keys to press, but he mostly just watched her. The way her brow knit with concentration, lip between her teeth, smile quirking at the corners when he hit a wrong note. Even though they were playing music there was still a quietness about it, something undemanding and soft. Her hands were so small but her fingers still managed to reach all the notes she needed. 

“Well,” Vlad appeared out of nowhere, startling both Dmitry and Anya enough to make their hands— and shoulders, and hips, and sides— spring apart, “aren’t you full of lovely surprises, my dear.”

Anya smiled up at him. Dmitry had never been more irritated with his friend. 

“Shall we go to dinner, maestro?”

Anya giggled and accepted the hand he offered to help her up. “Where are we going?”

“I had to ask the concierge if my favorite cafe is still around. It is not, unfortunately. But he recommended a spot on the way to Little Russia.”

Without Anya sitting next to him, Dmitry felt the piano bench was much too wide, so he stood. “We’re still going to the Neva Club?” he asked. “What happened to the old man complaining about his aching feet the entire way here?” 

To his satisfaction, Anya gave him a private, amused smile. She agreed. He liked it when she agreed with him. 

“It’s the Parisian air,” Vlad deadpanned. “I feel ten years younger already.” 

Anya and Dmitry shared one more secret, microscopic smile as they followed their friend to the brasserie. But his thoughts still lingered on that piano, floating there like the notes echoing over the lobby. He wondered if he could get Anya back there again. If she would like it if he bought her some sheet music. If he would be silently tapping out the notes Anya taught him on the table for a long while. 

[fanficshiddles]

The Call Of Fate, Chapter 8

Jade was momentarily blinded by a bright flash of green, and she felt like the floor beneath her feet had just totally vanished. Which, it had.

She clung on to Loki for her life, even though he had his arm around her waist and wasn’t letting go. When they arrived at their destination a second later, she had both arms wrapped around him and her legs wrapped around his thigh, clinging to him tightly like a monkey.

‘We have arrived.’ Loki chuckled.

Jade opened her eyes and looked around, confused. They were in a bathroom, of a public place like a pub or club she thought instantly. Because of the slightly darker atmosphere and some posters as well as graffiti on the walls. But then as she lowered herself from Loki, she realised she recognised it.

‘Are we… Are we at Benny’s?’ She asked in shock, eyes wide as she looked at Loki.

He was grinning like the Cheshire cat, hands behind his back as he rocked back and fore on his feet. ‘Yep.’

‘And it’s… It’s the night my band’s playing! In two hours!’ Jade screeched as she suddenly realised what was going on.

‘Yep.’ Loki said again, still grinning.

‘Oh my god! Loki!’ Jade launched herself at him again and wrapped her arms up around his neck, legs around his waist.

Loki laughed and caught her, hugging her back. ‘Go enjoy being you and doing what you do best, cupcake.’

Jade squeezed him extra tight, holding back tears of happiness. ‘Thank you!’

When she was lowered down, she laughed as Loki’s clothes changed. He had been wearing Asgardian clothing, but changed into a blue shirt with black leather trousers.

‘Will I fit in better now?’ He asked, holding his arms out to the side.

‘You look great. Though you’d have fitted in fine anyway, you get all sorts of weirdos in this place.’ She teased.

Loki gasped and reached out to pinch her arm. ‘Watch it you.’

Jade giggled and went to head out of the bathroom, but paused. ‘Shit, I don’t have my bass!’ She said as she turned back towards Loki, who had disappeared and then re-appeared within seconds, holding her bass with a smile.

‘You’ll need this.’ He chuckled and handed it over.

Jade let out a squeal of excitement, she couldn’t believe that she was actually going to get to play with her band tonight.

When she walked out, the pub was pretty busy as usual. Her bandmates were getting set up on stage, as soon as they saw her, they all began screeching in excitement and ran to her, giving her a big group hug.

‘You made it!’ Selene, the lead singer said in delight.

‘Thanks to this guy!’ Jade grinned and pointed at Loki, who came up behind her.

‘We met him the other day, he came to organise it all. We were going to cancel because we felt it wasn’t right without you.’ The drummer, Faith said.

‘Aww guys, you don’t need to do that. You’d do great without me anyway.’ Jade said.

‘No way! You’re the heart of this band. We couldn’t go on without you.’ Mable, the guitarist gave Jade a big hug.

‘Thanks guys. I’m so excited to be here!’

Loki got a round of drinks in while the band set up stage. He was excited to see them play.

‘I can’t believe you set this up for me, Loki. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.’ Jade said before they went on. She was downing her drink for a boost of confidence, she always got a little nervous before going on.

‘It’s my pleasure, cupcake. Well, I hope it is anyway. You guys better be good.’ He winked at her.

Jade narrowed her eyes at him with a smirk. ‘Oh, you’ll see.’ She winked back at him.

She finished her drink in a big gulp, then headed up on stage to start with the rest of them. The pub all settled, and Loki noticed it was packed now compared to when they first arrived. He had a good spot at the side, leaning against the wall.

Selene introduced the band to everyone before they started, earning huge cheers instantly. Loki couldn’t stop grinning, he knew this was going to be good.

The music started and Loki was locked on watching Jade. She was SO talented playing bass, totally in her element already.

Selene had amazing clean vocals, Loki was surprised how good she was. While Jade could sing, and could sing well, Selene was another level. The first song was a hauntingly beautiful song, slightly heavier at the chorus.

Loki clapped along with everyone, he caught eye with Jade who had a wicked glint in her eyes and he could tell she was holding back a smirk.

‘What is she up to?’ Loki mumbled to himself.

The music started for the second song, Loki watched carefully as Jade stepped up close to the mic that was set up on front of her. Which he knew made sense since she did backing vocals too, she’d told him…

But he noticed that she was looking at him, then suddenly she started roaring down the mic with the most incredible death scream Loki had ever heard.

His eyes almost popped out of his head and his jaw nearly reached the floor.

She had certainly kept that hidden from him during her practice sessions, only doing clean vocals.

It was only one line, then Selene came in with her clean vocals. Loki didn’t have to wait long to hear more screaming from Jade though, as she had a few good parts during the song they were playing. Suddenly it all made sense to him, how the band said they wouldn’t be who they were without her. She was more than just a bass player.

The crowd in the pub were all going nuts already, jumping around and quite a lot were singing/screaming along with the band. Loki was confused as to how they weren’t bigger than they were, they were all so talented.

Jade also did some clean backing vocals too for some of the songs.

Loki was just mesmerised, his heart felt so full seeing her having the best time on stage. Jumping around and head banging while playing bass and screaming down the mic. But he also hurt too, realising that this was truly who she was. And that Prince Arthur was trying to take all of that away from her.

In that moment, he wanted to snatch her up and run away with her. But he knew they’d be hunted down, it would defeat the purpose of her being able to perform on stage and be who she was, too.

He shook the bad thoughts from his mind and focused on enjoying the night.

At the end, the pub was so loud with cheers, clapping and screaming. The band were finished and took their bows, but the crowd chanting one more song constantly, made them unable to resist doing one more.

Afterwards, people crowded around them all, congratulating them and wanting to get some pictures with them. But Jade managed to eventually get over to where Loki was, waiting with her favourite drink that she desperately needed.

She almost downed the whole glass in one, but Loki managed to stop her. ‘Don’t want you passing out on me so soon!’ He chuckled.

‘That was so fucking incredible. I am buzzing!’ Jade said, practically bouncing on her feet.

‘You were incredible. You certainly kept that little secret talent of yours hidden!’

Jade laughed. ‘The shock on your face was a picture.’

‘Well, I was not expecting such a growly scream to come out of such a cute little cupcake.’ Loki teased and pinched her cheek, making her laugh again as she whacked his hand out of the way.

‘Yeah, you didn’t hear that during practice.’ She grinned.

‘About that, why not?’

‘I do practice. But in the shower. Don’t know why, I just prefer practicing that in there.’ Jade shrugged. ‘I don’t do it too often, want to try and protect my vocal cords. I find it makes it a bit more edgy when I do do them.’

Loki shook his head, still in disbelief.

Jade had to go back on stage to help clear up everything. Faith went over next to her.

‘Hey, Loki seems to have the hots for you. And you blew his socks off with your vocals, did he know about that?’ She asked.

‘Nope. And probably scared him, he’s no doubt wondering what kind of monster I am.’ Jade laughed.

‘Nah, he was turned on.’ Mable said as she’d been listening and joined in.

‘What? No he wasn’t.’ Jade laughed nervously.

‘He so was. He has eyes only for you, it’s painfully obvious.’ Faith said.

Jade blushed a little and tried to carry on with tidying up. ‘Don’t be silly… He’s a God.’

‘God’s still have the same functions as average men, don’t they?’ Faith said.

‘Probably bigger, know how to use it better too since they’ve been around longer.’ Mable said and winked at them both.

‘Oh my god, stop you guys!’ Jade hissed at them with a laugh. ‘Seriously, don’t even go there.’

The girls laughed and nudged her. Selene came over to see what was going on.

‘Just saying how Jade has a big admirer.’ Faith grinned.

‘Oh that Loki guy? Yeah, he is totally into you. Have you guys not slept together yet?’ Selene asked and folded her arms over her chest.

‘Selene! Don’t you start too.’ Jade whined.

‘What? You seriously haven’t? There’s so much chemistry between the two of you.’ Selene said.

‘You guys know about my situation, right?’ Jade asked quietly.

They all got serious all of a sudden, nodding sadly. ‘We do. Loki filled us in properly, we got some information from your mu…’ Faith trailed off, unsure on what to say.

‘It’s ok, Ann and Richard are still my parents, nothing will ever change that. They brought me up, loved and cared for me all my life.’ Jade smiled sadly.

The girls all had another group hug and pressed their heads together.

‘It will work out. I know it will.’ Selene said.

‘I don’t see how it will, but I really hope so.’ Jade sighed.

Loki and Jade stayed for a while at the pub, into the early hours of the morning partying with everyone there. Jade had the night of her life, having Loki there too was a blast and made it all that much better. He got along with everyone there, more so than he did with the Avengers, which amused Jade slightly.

She was sad to leave her friends, but she was tired and a bit drunk so was content enough to get back to bed.

‘Ready, cupcake?’ Loki asked as he put his arm around her after they stepped outside, out of view of people.

‘I don’t think I could ever be ready for this weird way of transportation.’

Loki then surprised her by scooping her up instead into his arms, she laughed and put her arms around his neck for extra security. Loki then teleported them back to her room at base.

‘Though not going to lie, the quickness is brilliant!’ She said as Loki put her down to her feet.

‘It is very handy.’ Loki chuckled.

‘Thank you again, Loki. So so much.’ She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

‘My pleasure.’ He purred and cupped her cheek.

‘Tell me the truth though, are you disgusted and scared by what can come out of this mouth?’ Jade smirked.

‘Not at all. Honestly, I am in awe. You’ve got talent, can do it very well. Did someone teach you?’

‘Yeah, my neighbour used to be in a deathcore metal band. He was an expert at the death scream. Learnt a lot from him. You remind me of him a little actually, he could be rather moody. I think he was fed up of hearing me screaming and tearing my throat apart in the process in my garage.’

Loki laughed. ‘Well, you wouldn’t be very useful without your throat and vocal cords, so I’d say it’s a good thing he taught you.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Jade smiled.

They then both realised that Loki still had his palm on her cheek.

But he pulled back when he realised and his cheeks turned a little pink, so did Jade’s.

‘See you in the morning, cupcake.’ Loki smiled.

‘Afternoon more like.’ She corrected him just before he teleported out of her room with a chuckle.

[rreskk]

do when trevor and reader are in a mission meeting or whatev and trevor statts touching reader and stuff secretely meowmeowmeowmeow

Okay boobie yayay

Summary: Trevor, out of boredom, began getting a bit too frisky when he shouldn't be.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

Word count: 1495

Trevor’s office.

The place that stunk of piss, alcohol, sex, and gasoline.

There were naked pictures of strippers of all shapes and sizes awfully pinned against the horribly designed wallpaper. Some of them were hanging on their last threads, the tape unable to hold it together.

Everyone was crowded in the godforsaken room. Lester, the molester (as Trevor wanted you to call him) was pinning up a rough plan for your next heist. Everyone else was watching him, expect Trevor.

He was staring fondly at your thighs; occasionally caressing them with his antsy fingers but you had to stop him in case someone throws an eye towards your direction. You were sat beside him on a small chair; Trevor sat in his leather one. He was lazily slumped, his feet resting against the desktop (completely unaffected by the dirt his shoes had dropped).

You kept a close eye on his hand considering it was slowly adventuring closer to your leg. He thought he was slick, giving you a smirk every now and then whenever you’d try and stop him.

“Okay, I think the plan is done. Michael, you’ll be in charge of the-“ Lester began talking and it seems that his voice was a living headache for Trevor. He groaned loud enough for you to hear, deciding to entertain himself with the collection of pencils and pins that were left from the previous owner (who he willingly kicked out – Only you knew about this though…)

Multiple attempts of making him listen since this heist was incredibly important was flunked. Trevor didn’t acknowledge a word you said, instead, he just mindlessly trailed his index finger across the curves of your hips. This was an agitating gesture. You slapped his hand away, urging him again to listen. But of course he didn’t.

“You’re not gonna have a clue. Listen to them.” You leant in and whispered in his ear while the others were discussing and debating.

Trevor shrugged his shoulders and gave you a flirty grin. Once again, you felt him fondle your thighs. This time, he was a bit more obnoxious. His whole hand was squeezing it, his palm dry humping against the material of your trousers. He was obviously eager for some friction as he rubbed and rubbed, biting his lip and being so fixated on your lap.

This was a professional meeting. Michael, Franklin, some unknown men were surrounding Lester’s board with intellectual ideas while Trevor remained unbothered and lazy. You tried to engage in conversation but every time you opened your mouth, his finger pinched your inner thigh.

“Maybe the transpo- Urgh!”

They all looked over.

Trevor snatched his hand away with a wide smirk. He looked at you and raised his eyebrows - pretending he wasn’t the cause of your sudden whining. You’d glare, but it would be too obvious, right? That would only restrict your response. You were screaming at yourself; ‘Play it cool, don’t stress.’  But these words filtering your mind would leave you silent for too long. The others were just as confused at your panicked expression, only making it worse when you could hear him giggling.

“What’s wrong with you, [y/n]?” His tongue teasingly slurping up the discourse of your shame.

Lester, the molester, thought it was a smart idea to waste no more time on your inconsistent bluffing. He returned everyone’s attention to the board. It was a fair choice and you held no objections nor offence. You just lowered your head in embarrassment and avoided eye contact with anyone.

Trevor moved his chair closer before leaning into your ear and speaking.

 “Caught red handed?”

 His words only fuelled your discomfort more. You could slap him, punch him… But that wouldn’t be a good idea. Refusing to look in his direction, you stared at the pinboard in hopes he’d leave you alone. There was enough things on your mind and you didn’t want him to suddenly pull anymore of this “touchy” nonsense.

However, he didn’t approve of your avoidance. He edged his chair even closer so your thighs were now touching each other. There was no escape.

“Come on, [y/n]. It was just a bit of fun, ay?”

“It wasn’t fun at all. It was humiliating.” You whispered back with a disappointed frown.

“Hm,” His hand shuffled over to the placement of your thigh again. He began caressing you with his thumb, trying to ease the tension by touching you some more – whether that was effective or not; “Don’t be mad at me, baby. What’s wrong with a little playtime?” His words only made it 10x worse.

“Trevor, stop it… Please.” Outcomes your hasty protest, managing to keep your voice down (despite wanting to yell at him).

He sighed, moving his hand upwards.

“No.” He soon smirked.

No? Just no? You were dumbfounded.

“What do you mean “no”? I’m not playing games. Not now.”

“We aren’t playing any games. I want you now, right now.”

“No.” You sternly said.

Trevor raised an eyebrow, “No? Why not? Scared? Ashamed? There’s nothing wrong with a little touch here and there.”

The moment he said this, you could feel his palm grind against your groin. You had to be careful in case you blubbered out again. The warmth was delicately arousing. He only added more pressure though… His fingers gently travelled up to your belt loops and carefully drawn it down so there was access to your panties through your flies. He zipped it down.

And this all happened from behind his desk. If you were to be Michael, he’d think you were itching yourself – rather contently. The small concentration on your face that was tilted to a 90 degree angle. Besides… Trevor looks fucking pleased with himself. There was no denying; it was pretty obvious.

“And you told me to concentrate.” He remarked after noticing how fixated you were on his hand that was now officially rubbing the fabrics of your panties. Not to mention, he wasn’t soft with it anymore. Trevor was eager and antsy.

“Dammit, Trev.” You breathed into his ear, pretending you were whispering important needs so it didn’t look suspicious. You know you should stop trying to cover this up since the rest probably knew.

He grumbled intently as your breath pleasured the skin of his neck. Trevor closed his eyes and leaned backwards, his fingers shamelessly down your underwear and fondling your sex as his thumb began working against it, rubbing it to the core.

Now you were flustered enough to voice out anymore reoccurring moans.

“Mhm-“ You chewed your inner mouth and stared down at the floor.  

“Is everything okay?”

The sound of Michael’s inquiry sent you into shock. Trevor noticed how tense you suddenly were, feeling your pussy’s pulse stop randomly before looking up. He soon saw Mikey and made eye contact. He scowled – how dare Michael interrupt your fixation.

“The fuck do you want, Townley?”

His partner in crime grimaced, almost robotically, and sent you a questionable glare. Michael turned away and Trevor was back at town, beginning to finger your warmth until it was only a matter of time where he began shuffling around in his seat, unable to hold back his own lustfulness.

“You are so fuckin’ sexy around my fingers, baby.” He whined into your ear. His volume was lowkey, but it wasn’t quiet enough.

Michael couldn’t help but look back again. He was visibly disturbed.

“Oh, come on guys! You fuckin’ serious? A heist meeting?”

Trevor growled in anger and only fingered you harder as he spoke to Mikey.

“What? We ain’t doin’ shit, you fuckin’ snake. Fuck off!”

 “Oh yeah! Because I know what you are doing!”

“We’re doing nothin’. Go gangbang fuckin’ Lester, or- or Franklin! Stop pushing shit on me. You fuckin’ lizard, I told you once… And I’m telling you again; FUCK OFF!” He bellowed. Somehow the pitch of his lividness supplied enough energy and momentum for his hands, successfully hitting the spot while you were choking back moans and whimpers.

“What the hell is going on?” The mastermind of all the thinking questioned after ear dropping[rk1]  all the drama going on from behind his back.

“SHUT UP, LESTER!”

That did it. Through his aggressive thrusts of his filthy finger, you happened to come all at once. Trevor was shook out of his misery when the sensation of wet heat covered the fingers that were buried within your sex. He couldn’t help but smirk. He was surprised you supressed noises!

You were left sluggishly limb in your seat, absolutely lifeless as he detached his fingers and helped zip up the evidence. Trevor gave you one last rub on the thigh and sent you a small grin, lowering his lips to your hungry ear.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: death, violence, guns, implied abuse references, trafficking references, abduction, past attempted murder, murder, addiction

AO3 link

Chapter 34 - Jesper

“Jeluna,” Inej repeated, frowning, “It doesn’t ring a bell,”

Nina was standing in front of the closed door to Inej’s room, her hair - usually always worn loose so it fell just over her shoulders - tightly plaited and her favoured outfit of dark, deep pocketed trousers and some brightly coloured jumper or other replaced by a neatly pressed, creamy white blouse and a skirt that fell past her knees over long white stockings, as well as a pair of shiny black boots instead of her beaten up brown leather ones. It was distracting Jesper - it wasn’t that it didn’t look nice, Nina seemed to have the ability to pull off just about anything she wore, but it just made her look not quite like herself. She wasn’t comfortable, he didn’t think, in the tight cuffs of the button down or the almost schoolchild-esque pleats of the skirt. She looked like one of the women in the University or Zelvar Districts, working front desks or accounts or correspondence. And when Jesper had thought that, he realised what it was that he actually thought, why he felt like something wasn’t quite right. Nina looked disturbingly Kerch. 

“Does she have a stage name?” he asked, “Maybe it would be easier to hear word of her that way,”

“Not that I’ve heard of,” Nina shrugged, “But she’s not been reported missing. I’ve not heard a word about it, even at the White Rose,”

“She won’t be,” said Inej, shuffling between her pillows to readjust herself, “Not until it’s already too late,”

“Tara and Amethyst-”

“The Leopard has been the most popular attraction at the Menagerie for months,” Inej shook her head, “And Amethyst was at the Sweet Shoppe for longer than anyone. I’ve heard rumours that Rollins took a liking to her; she was absent once before, a few years back, so I heard. Popularly believed he took her out of the city,”

Jesper frowned - he could bring an image of the girl to mind himself, but the missing descriptions had described her as in her early twenties. Twenty three, Kaz had said. 

“People noticed they were gone,” continued Inej, “Will anyone notice Jeluna?”

You know a girl from West Stave died in a similar pattern last month? From a smaller house, didn’t get much notice. 

“How old is she?”

Nina shrugged. 

“I only saw her once or twice; our age, a touch younger? Not old,”

Inej murmured something in Suli, and Jesper saw Nina glance away. He didn’t ask what she’d said. Even though it was probably just a prayer, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. A minute passed. 

“One other thing,” Nina was looking at him now, not Inej, “They want me back at the Van Eck house tonight,”

Jesper felt his shoulders stiffen involuntarily. He hadn’t seen Wylan in almost two weeks, the last he’d heard of the kid being the information Roeder gave Inej and she, in turn, passed on to Jesper the other day. Wylan was at a boarding house a short way South of here, he’d got a job at a tannery in the Warehouse District, and no-one ever saw him anywhere else. Jesper drummed his fingers against his knee, finding dissatisfaction at the attempt to lay against his guns and finding the sad little pistols sitting in his belt. He didn’t want to ask Kaz for his revolvers back, but he knew he’d crack before Kaz did and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Maybe he should just stop bothering. He needed a drink. 

“What does he want?”

Nina shrugged, playing with the end of one of her plaits. 

“I don’t know. Are you on shift tonight?”

Nope. 

“I’m at the Crow Club, but I might be able to slip out for a while - what time?”

“Ten bells. I don’t know how long it’ll be though, I could talk to Kaz…”

Jesper tightened his hand briefly in and out of a fist. 

“No, it’s fine. I can go with you,”

He felt Inej’s eyes on him and rolled his shoulders, trying not to meet her gaze. 

“Do you think he knows Wylan’s alive?” she asked into the growing silence.

Growing silence amongst the three of them, anyway; the rowdy shouts and cheers and arguments of the Slat were of course still leaking through the walls and floor. Jesper was pretty sure he’d just heard Pim’s voice next door, not long after Anika’s words had drifted through the air. 

“He must do,” said Nina, “Or at least suspect, surely it was reported back to him that he jumped into the canal and they couldn’t find him?”

“It’s a miracle he made it back out again,” Inej shook her head, “Those waters are dangerous enough for people who can see where they’re going; I don’t think it would be unreasonable for Van Eck to assume he drowned out there,”

She had a point. Jesper still wasn’t sure how Wylan had managed it; how far he’d had to swim, how long he had been stuck out there, how he’d made his way back to dry land. He hadn’t shared the full story in the short time they had together before Jesper went and fucked everything up, but the bruises on his neck had been telling enough. 

“You Tailored Wylan last time, right?”

Nina nodded. 

“It’s probably just Tailoring again; new young wives don’t stay young and pretty forever,”

“She’s about twenty,” said Nina. 

“So two years too old,” Inej murmured, “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s all it is, you know. But stay wary, be sensible. You don’t know what he’s capable of,”

“I think we know exactly what he’s capable of, Inej,” Nina shook her head, “That might be half the problem,”

A moment dipped back into quiet as it rolled by, before Jesper ventured:

“Should we tell Kaz? About Jeluna?”

“I don’t know,” Nina hesitated, “Maybe. What are the chances he can do anything?”

“What are the chances he can do something but won’t bother?”

No-one answered Inej’s quiet question. 

Jesper watched Nina fidget with her sleeve for a minute before anyone said anything else. She glanced at her watch. 

“I’d better go,” she said, “I’m on my way to the courthouse, I just wanted to update you first - and check in on your leg, Inej,”

So that was why she was dressed like this. Jesper searched briefly through the few things he knew about Nina’s battle with the slow-but-surely-violent killer that was the Kerch legal system; he couldn’t remember her boy’s name, a Fjerdan, a year older than Nina - an ex-Drüskelle in on what she claimed were false charges. He couldn’t help but question what possible charges a Drüskelle couldn’t be considered guilty for, but he bit his tongue. For the sake of avoiding a pointless argument, for the sake of letting Nina just live her life, and for the sake of not being an idiot who gave himself away. 

“Good luck,” Inej smiled softly. 

“I’ll need it,” Nina half laughed, “If it’s the same judge I met last time you’d best pray for my restraint not to burst his heart in two,”

“Nina,”

“I’m joking,” she promised her, then with a wink at Jesper: “Violence only if absolutely necessary,”

*

It was definitely a strange feeling, loitering around the Geldstraat late at night, waiting for Nina to re-emerge. Jesper kept himself in the shadows near a side street, hoping it was late enough and he was out of view enough that none of the fine citizens of the area would pick up on his very clearly out of place appearance. Nina was actually quite a lot quicker than he’d expected her to be, but it still felt like a long time standing around; alone, somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be, with nothing to do. He fidgeted with his sad little pistols. He was itching for a hand of cards. He checked his watch. Nina had been gone for about twenty minutes. Jesper needed to pull himself together. 

He studied the front of the Van Eck mansion opposite him in the dark. Flowers grew up the trellises either side of the front door, but the night was too thick to be able to make out what type of plant they were from this distance, and two potted trees stood sentinel, guarding either side of the gate. There were no candles burning in any of the front windows except the one farthest to the right - surely not the master bedroom from this position, Jesper expected that would look over the gardens, but perhaps someone’s guest room? Wylan had no siblings - yet - so other than a guest Jesper wasn’t sure who could be in there at this hour, not unless the servants’ cleaning rotas went on well into the night. Maybe they did. 

He wondered which window was supposed to be Wylan’s - or if that would be round the side or back of the house. That might make more sense, to have a nicer view of the fancy gardens, the private dock, the picturesque canal. It was just about the only canal in the city you could describe as picturesque, but once you were here looking at it that didn’t seem to bother you anymore. Even if you knew what the rest of the city looked like, even if you’d spent your time here wading through its slums, you could stand here and look at the canal, and you could think that it was pretty. It was pretty enough that, even for a very brief moment, you didn’t care about the rest of it anymore. That was how it got you. 

Yes, he thought, Wylan’s window was probably round the side of the house. Then: Why the fuck do you care? 

Too many answers came unbidden, and Jesper tried to stamp them out. He checked his watch again. Not even five more minutes had passed. 

When Nina did return, only about ten minutes after that, it was with a furious march in her step and fire burning in her cheeks. Her hair was still in its tight plaits, though a few strands had come loose, and the sour mood she’d been in after the courthouse had clearly only worsened. She yanked off her fake kefta as soon as she reached Jesper, shoving it over her arm to carry and shaking out the neckline of the blouse she was wearing beneath as though she’d overheated. He opened his mouth but she barely seemed to notice she was there, and kept walking without a word so he was forced to hurry after her.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” she snapped, and just kept striding on. 

Jesper followed. The Geldstraat shrank behind him, continuing to shimmer in the distance, and as they made their way back to the Barrel and parted ways to West and East Stave, Jesper felt strangely discomforted by the knowledge that it was still behind them, shimmering prettily on in the dark. Picturesque. 

[nerdy-and-dedicated]

Stronger Than You (Steven Universe AU)

So as a massive Steven Universe fan, I couldn’t help but create this small au deathpuss fic of it. If you haven’t watched it, please do. It’s amazing. 

Inspired By This Scene (spoiler alert for those who haven’t seen the show): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=coOK-eZDm4k

Side Note: Puss is a black sapphire while Death is a fire opal. It will make sense as to why towards the end

Tagging: @royallydivinelesbian @thor-is-trans-and-pan-he-told-me

~~~

Everything hurt so much as he attempted to get up. The last thing Perrito remembered was Jack Horner attacking them and…oh no. The dog looked around, desperately searching for a way out of this cell. He had watched enough prison escape films to know that even the most secures one had weakness. So Perrito began jumping on floor and pushing panels on the walls to see if anyone had tried in his cell. Then his attention turned to the yellow field blocking his way out. It seemed unlikely that he would be able pass through it but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. Perrito took a deep breath before taking a running start at the electric field. He let out a groan as he managed run straight through it. The dog spun around happily a few times, not believing it actually work. After he calmed himself down, Perrito sped down to the right of the hallway, only coming to a halt a few cells down from him. Inside was a small ginger cat beating the walls furiously. The feline was wearing a brimmed hat with a large yellow feather, a black cape, a belt, and a pair of well loved leather boots. He also had a sword sheathed to his side and what appeared to be a rounded black sapphire on his back. The dog approached the prisoner and tried to get his attention.

  “Um…hi.”

 The cat stopped and just stared at him.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Do I look okay to you? I’m locked in a cell and separated from my Muerte.”

 “I’m looking for my friends too. Maybe we can do it together.”

 The cat hissed. “I don’t need your help. I’ll find my own way out.”

 “Honestly, it’s really no trouble.”

 The cat examined the dog, only realising he was on the outside the cell. “Wait, how did you get past the field?”

  The dog smiled as he created a gap in the field with his body. He watched his new friend stare in awe before running through the small space. The cat then helped Perrito out of the force field and gave him a loving pat.

  “I’m sorry for my behaviour Perrito. Places like these make me incredibly anxious.”

 “It’s fine, I feel the same way. If we split up, we can find our friends faster.”

 “Good idea.”

  Perrito gave the cat a quick smile before running down the hall. On his search, he thought back to his new friend. There was something oddly familiar about him. The way his mannerisms and clothes in particular. Even the way he said his name was familiar and he couldn’t figure out why. Then he heard the sweet yet eerie tune. The same one his best friend would whistle to him as a lullaby. Perrito followed the melody as best he could. It was a bit difficult especially with Jack’s bakers wandering the halls and the entire place being incredibly echoey. So, when he finally found the source, the dog let out a massive sigh of relief. He investigated both side of the hallway before approaching the figure. It appeared to be a massive canine, judging by the snout and tail. They were wearing a black poncho with the hood up, dark trouser and leather wraps around their forearms and feet. The individual seemed sad, maybe this was the Muerte the cat was talking about.

  “Hey, I like your song. Are you Muerte?”

 The canine tilted towards him. “That’s me. Are you alright? You’ve got a nasty black eye there.”

 “Oh, I’m fine. It’s doesn’t hurt that much.”

 “Still, I suggest you get some ice on it when we escape.” Muerte smiled, removing his hood.

 “Okay! Now how are you going to get you out?”

 “Pass through the field and I will lift you up. I can pass through that way.”

  Perrito nodded as he followed the wolf’s instructions. He made a ninety degree turn, making it easier for Muerte to lift him up and escape his cell. The large canine gave him a quick hug before placing him back on the ground. Much like the cat, Perrito felt like he had met Muerte and the feeling was driving him crazy. Though he didn’t have time to dwell on it as The wolf’s ears began to twitch violently. At first Perrito didn’t hear anything, not until he ended up chasing after Muerte at high speed. It was the cat from earlier calling out for the wolf. The small dog ended up colliding into Muerte’s calf when he stopped in the entrance of a large circular room.

  “PUSS!!”

 “MUERTE!!”

  The two individuals both ran to the centre before Puss leaped into Muerte’s arms. The wolf smothered the cat in kisses, both giggling in delight. Perrito watched from the sidelines as the couple was reunited. His tail happily wagging at the sight. No wonder the two were so miserable when they met. Muerte and Puss missed each other so much.

  “Did they hurt you my firefly?” Puss asked

 “No, no. I’m okay, did they hurt you?”

 “Who cares”

 “I do.”

  Perrito stared in awe as the couple began laughing and spinning around the room. Soon a bright, white light engulfed them as they fused into the dog’s greatest friend of all time: Tiger Eye. He couldn’t believe that Tiger Eye was a fusion this entire time. No wonder he was so badass and awesome.

  “Perrito!! Thank you so much!!”

 “Tiger Eye, you’re a fusion?!! I can’t believe it!!”

 “We’re so sorry, we had hoped you’d meet up under better circumstances.”

 “Well…did I make a good first impression?”

 “Oh, sweet, beautiful Perrito…we already love you.”

[womanofwords]

The Poisoned Prodigy (Chapter 7)

I went to my local skate park and skated. I had to take a break from Sandalwood and everything that reminded me of Patton.

But Patton had reached there too.

Someone had made a shrine for Patton at the skate park he and I went to. The skate park I introduced him to that, even though I'd been going there for years, never remembered me.

The shrine was haphazard, yet somehow more loving. The one at Sandalwood may have been more clean-cut, but at the same time it was cold in a way that I could not place. "Hey," said a boy with green stripes in his hair that I had never seen before. "Just so you know, no messing with the tribute space. Saw the news and made one."

"You knew him?" I asked.

"Yeah. Skated with him a few times. He came up with the awesomest tricks." He smiled for a second before looking me up and down. "Did you know him or something?"

"I thought I did," I said.

:-)

This time, Sally decided to meet me at the library instead of Sandalwood Institute. "Ernest always gets nominated for something science-related, but his performance is awful," I said. "Maybe someone else is making his entries and submitting them under his name. And maybe it gets hidden inside of the school, or the person is in the school. Up for a little trip?"

She shook her head. "No dice. People are recognising you now. If you're going to go into Sandalwood again, you'll need a disguise," she told me.

"How? I could wear different clothes," I offered.

Sally scoffed and shook her head. "You'll need a spare of one of our uniforms," she said.

That was a bridge too far. I knew what Sandalwood Institute uniforms looked like. Patton talked about the swear words his aunt used while paying for it, so it certainly wasn't cheap. Large black blazers with gold trimming on the lapels with checked black and gold trousers or skirts to match, a white shirt, and hideous black leather shoes. They didn't deserve to be called shoes; they were leather bricks with laces and foot holes. The tie was fully gold. "Where will we get that?"

"There's a spare uniform in the lost property cupboard," Sally said. "I'll sneak it out for you."

I sighed and mentally prepared to look like even more of a dork than usual. "OK. Let's do this."

:-)

We met up again at the library, this time with Sally holding up a bag of clothes. "It was the last one available," she said. "Good luck."

I took it into a toilet stall and got changed. My old clothes went into the bag and I wore the Sandalwood uniform.

None of it fit.

The shirt billowed around my waist while its sleeves swallowed my arms. The trousers collected at my feet in a puddle of fabric. I felt like I was a little kid wearing my dad's suits. Hoisting the trousers up above my waist and sucking my stomach in, I waddled out of the toilet stall and confronted Sally.

"What the hell?" I stated.

"I . . . think the one you got you is too big," Sally said, covering her hand with her hand.

"You think?!" I snapped. Hysterical laughter bellowed out of Sally, and I couldn't stop staring.

Even when she laughed at me, Sally Kinley was still beautiful. No wonder Patton had a crush on her.

And now I had one, too.

:-)

Once we were inside the school, we got a lot less looks than before. Sally was right about the uniform. "Science block is here," she said, pulling me into a school laboratory. "Now, let's see what, or rather who, is really doing the work for Ernest."

"What did he submit for the last science convictions?" I asked.

"Last year, he submitted an invention that would successfully keep stickers sticky after they had lost their adhesive quality. It failed in a horrifying way once it stuck him to a table."

"Yeesh. What about the other times?"

"The year before that, he made something that would flip pancakes for you. It gave him a black eye. That year, Patton won something in the art category for his moving animation about his time as a cancer patient, which just made Ernest hate him even more."

"Oh." Unconsciously, Sally and I split up; I went towards a bookshelf, and Sally went towards a cupboard. As I looked through the dusty tomes on the shelf (that were probably there as decoration) I noticed a small notebook. Instead of it being sandwiched between two other books, it was behind them, the old books acting as a barrier.

The pages were written in a cursive handwriting that was large and looping in elaborate ways. Oddly enough, it was written in red ink.

Name of invention: Sticker adhesive appliance Inventor: Collette Prabhakar Ernest DuBois Name of invention: Pancake flipper Inventor: Darrell Jones Ernest DuBois

"I think I found something!" I said.

"Vincent, where did you get that?" Sally asked, coming over to me.

"Someone put it behind the other books. It's got Ernest's name in there," I said. I continued to read, seeing entries for artworks, literature, and sports. "This must be every category this school has for awards, I think."

She read through the notes with me, muttering under her breath as she did so. Once she was done, she shared a look of horror. "Someone has been entering other people's work under Ernest's name. Maybe Ernest poisoned Patton for not helping him with this. Or maybe Ernest poisoned Patton to thin out the competition so his fraudulent entry would win."

"Or maybe it wasn't Ernest at all," I said. "You said yourself that he wasn't a very good student. Maybe he wasn't smart at all. Maybe he really was a jealous little pinhead and someone else framed him. Someone who knows how to get a hold of cyanide and how to put it into the water bottle given to Patton."

"Like Ernest's parents. They're Sandalwood alumni, and they have a bunch of awards for stuff they did when they were here. Maybe Ernest's failure was embarrassing."

"But their son is in jail for murder, and everybody thinks he did it. If I was them, I'd think that was way more embarrassing than him failing at everything."

"Yeah, you're right." The possibilities concerning who could have possibly poisoned my best friend were narrowing down. The poison could be found in the science cupboard and was later found inside of Ernest's locker, which was definitely planted. "We'd need someone who has access to the poisonous substances and knows how to open up someone else's school locker."

"The second one is pretty easy to do," Sally said. "The locks are pretty easy to open, and anybody could put basically anything in anyone else's locker provided that nobody sees them."

"That's dumb," I blurted out, like an idiot.

"We have a trust-based system and the cameras got broken two weeks ago." Sally rolled her eyes. "But the cyanide is more difficult. Only the teachers and student teachers are allowed to use the keys that open the doors to those dangerous chemicals."

"And where is the key kept?"

Sally gulped and played with a coil of hair. "Dr Jacobs' office."

If you want to read the other chapters, see Masterlist.

[aviesfics]

Halcyon

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: England, America

Ship: AmericaxEngland

Tags and warnings: Human AU, post-apocalyptic, minor injury mention, minor infection

Word count: 1030

"Though Arthur had the fever, it was Alfred who was feverish, paranoia fuelling a frantic dash around the room."

In a ruined world, Alfred and Arthur take shelter in a motel.

Read below the cut or >here< on AO3.

(I really want to write a proper USUK apocalypse AU one day (I think high stakes are good for their dynamic) but I have too many other fics to complete, so this is just one little scene.)

---

Before the motel door had even shut behind them, he had found the bed - stiff old sheets in a hideous beige, a lumpy spring mattress, and a splintering frame that creaked dangerously, threatening to collapse under the shock of his sudden appearance.

It was the most comfortable Arthur had been in months and he felt his body loosen, the burden of the chase lifting as he relaxed into the dusty comforter, closing his eyes to crumbling plaster and black mould.

Still, when no-one joined him after several minutes, he cracked an eye open and propped himself up on his elbow.

“Al?”

“I’ll be with you in a minute, Artie. Just rest up for a bit.”

Though Arthur had the fever, it was Alfred who was feverish, paranoia fuelling a frantic dash around the room. Whilst Arthur had lounged, he had rearranged the furniture, chairs and cabinets now barricading the door, the latch apparently not trusted to hold steady.

“Calm down love, we lost them miles back.”

“Yeah, but there’s always others. New place just means new problems,” Alfred muttered distractedly, closing the thin curtains and examining them thoroughly, checking for any gaps or tears that might expose their occupancy. “All good! All right, let’s see what we’ve got for you.”

He was at Arthur’s side in an instant, ready to tip out the small leather satchel that held their most essential supplies. Arthur stopped him with a hand on his arm, sparing him the effort.

“Tylenol, love. Expired Tylenol. That’s all we’ve got.”

“Shit. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I was taking stock last night.”

“Okay. Fuck… okay. Well you should take some anyway. It might help the fever. Fuck. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine, Al. I’m on the mend, see,” Arthur held out his leg, trousers rolled to his knee. “We’ve come back from worse.”

Alfred, squeamish in a way that Arthur found endearing, took a reluctant glance at the wound. A deep stab from an attacker’s worn screwdriver, it had been gnarly in the first days, quickly infecting and leaving Arthur weak. Now it was still a little red, and perhaps too warm to the touch, but it was healing. Miraculous, when all they’d had to treat it was soap, water and time.

“Yeah, okay. That’s not so bad. It’s looking better.”

“Told you,” Arthur leant up for a kiss, but he stilled upon hearing a distant clatter, hand frozen around Alfred’s neck as he glanced back at the door.

After a moment of silence, he was about to laugh off his nerves, ready to accuse a passing animal or some loose trimming in the wind, when there was another bang. A loud crack followed, then, a little closer, violent rattling.

“Someone’s checking the doors,” he hissed to a startled Alfred.

“Looking for us?” Alfred whispered back.

Arthur shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so. We were careful. No-one could have seen us.”

The assailant grew closer. Arthur could hear their footsteps now, and there was a loud crack as a near-by door was forced open. Somewhere close enough that they could hear drawers opening and the magnetic click of a bathroom cabinet. Still at the bedside, Alfred ducked, and Arthur slipped off the mattress to join him.

“Under the bed,” Alfred gave his shoulder an urgent push, forcing him low onto the carpet. As Arthur sucked in his stomach and squeezed beneath the low bed frame, he distantly remembered a version of himself that would have been disgusted by the crusty fibres beneath his fingertips. 

It was too tight a fit for Alfred, who was taller, and somehow still muscular despite his meagre diet.

“Bathroom,” Arthur whispered to him, “behind the shower curtain.”

“No. I need to be here if they get in. You’re not in fighting condition.”

Arthur grunted in frustration, ready to argue, but the spirit left him when he heard a clatter to his right.

It was their door now. From the ground, he could see the wooden base trembling as someone gave it a few solid shoves, and then something heavier, perhaps a large boot or some makeshift battering ram. Arthur flinched at every crash, but the door held. 

The assailant moved along, to the next door, and then the next. Probably a rogue scavenger. Probably alone. Probably hoping to get lucky and find a room that hadn’t been pillaged yet. Toothpaste, shampoo, detergent. It was all valuable now.

Still, the noises were several doors away before Arthur could relax, and he squeezed out from under the bed, letting Alfred help him back onto the mattress.

“Okay. It was nothing. We’re okay.”

Arthur was not sure if Alfred was trying to console him, or if he was talking to himself. He smiled anyway, and took Alfred’s hand.

“Of course we are.”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll stay awake for a bit and keep an ear out for more trouble.”

Arthur felt like he’d been doing an awful lot of the sleeping lately, but chose not to disagree whilst the other was on edge. Alfred could be a hard man to argue with when he was feeling paranoid.

“Alright, but you’d better wake me if you get tired.”

“Right. Sure.”

“I mean it. We need to find food tomorrow. It’ll be dangerous if you’re walking around half asleep.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we can switch.”

“Good,” Arthur pressed a kiss to Alfred’s cheek, settling himself under the covers. It had been a long time now since he had slept under a blanket that could be considered clean - perhaps stale from lack of attention, but not grimy and unwashed - and he enjoyed the way it felt across his shoulders. Under real sheets and in a real bed, he could almost pretend he was in the past, when life was normal and his biggest worries were college assignments and job interviews.

A hand pressed itself to his forehead - not so hot today as it was yesterday - and then began threading itself through his hair. Arthur closed his eyes, settled into the pillow, and let the peace of the night pull him under.

[suchawannabe56]

Better Latte Than Never

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

CHAPTER TEN 

Alec really didn’t know what to wear for the date. It had been so long since he’d been on one that he wasn’t sure what he should be doing. He’d had to call in his sister for help and Jace had come along with her because, apparently, Alec's love life was fascinating to both of his siblings. 

“What did Magnus say you would be doing?” Isabelle asked, rummaging through Alec’s wardrobe. 

“Nothing. He didn’t tell me anything other than to dress casually.”

“Casual casual or smart casual?” Isabelle inquired, turning to look at him. 

Alec blinked at her and then looked over at Jace, who for some reason was sitting on his bed eating popcorn. Alec made a mental note to check into his brother’s well-being. 

“There’s a difference?” 

Isabelle made an exasperated noise and proceeded to grab her brother’s phone and check the messages herself despite Alec’s protests. 

“Izzy!” 

“What?” 

“Are there any dick pics?” Jace asked around a mouth full of popcorn. “Or any form of sexting?”

“Why are you even here?” Alec asked, as Isabelle rolled her eyes and went back to the wardrobe muttering about Alec’s lack of fashion sense. 

“Entertainment,” Jace replied with a grin and Alec was filled with the overwhelming urge to hit him. 

He took a deep breath and turned back to his sister as she thrust clothes in his direction. 

“Try this on.” 

Alec was about to argue but she just looked at him and he groaned, walking into the bathroom to change. He had to admit that the black slacks and light grey shirt look decent. He returned to the bedroom and Isabelle grinned at him. 

“Perfect,” she stated, making her way over to him so she could fuss with his hair. 

“You look good,” Jace piped up while Alec tried to swat his sister’s hands away. “You will most definitely get laid.”

Alec spluttered and Isabelle turned to glare at their brother. 

“Jace, that’s not the point of this outfit. The point is to leave Magnus wanting but not actually getting.” 

Jace nodded and Alec just looked between the two completely lost. He decided he’d prefer not to know what they were on about and instead headed into the living room. It was almost time for Magnus to pick him up and Alec was nervous. He began pacing the room, attracting the attention of his annoying siblings. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Isabelle said softly. 

Alec just looked at her. “What if after all this, he doesn’t really like me?” he stated. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“True, but you didn’t really like that guy. You <i>like</i> Magnus and he likes you a lot more than that dickhead did,” Jace stated, still holding his bowl of popcorn. 

Alec hummed, “Yeah, but that just means if this goes wrong it’ll hurt a lot more.”

“Alec,” Isabelle whispered softly. “It’s not going to go wrong.”

“And no matter what, we’ll be here,” Jace added. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Alec mumbled, accepting the hug Isabelle gave him. 

He kissed the top of her head as the buzzer sounded. He took a deep breath before walking to the intercom, Magnus’s voice coming through the system. 

“I’m here, Alexander.”

Alec couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his face. “I’ll be right down.” 

He quickly put on his shoes and as he went to grab a jacket, Isabelle’s voice reached his ears. 

“Take the leather jacket.” 

Alec grabbed it and pulled it on, catching a glance at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He nodded and grabbed his keys and wallet but paused just as he was about to leave, turning to his siblings who were watching him. 

“I don’t want either of you to be here when I get home.”

And with that, he turned and left the apartment. Alec’s hands began to shake slightly as he watched the numbers of the elevator count down to the ground floor. He walked out the doors of the building and froze. Magnus was waiting for him, leaning against his bike. The man was wearing fitted dark grey trousers with a velvet red shirt tucked in that accentuated his chest. But what had really got Alec’s attention was that Magnus had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He looked like sex on legs and Alec could feel lust bubbling up inside him. He’d never seen anyone look so incredibly sexy. 

“Why thank you, darling, you’re not so bad yourself,” Magnus said, his tone light as he held out a spare helmet to Alec. 

Alec flushed a deep shade of red as he realised he’d spoken out loud but walked forward and took the helmet anyway. 

“Sorry, I didn’t buzz you inside. My siblings are upstairs and I’d rather they didn’t chase you away with an interrogation.”

Magnus chuckled. “They wouldn’t be able to get rid of me that easily, Alexander.” 

Alec smiled and his heart leaped happily in his chest. He let Magnus help him with the helmet before climbing onto the back of the bike. 

“Keep a tight hold on me,” Magnus said as he climbed on. 

“Is that why you brought the bike?” Alec teased, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. 

“Maybe. Or maybe I wanted to see how good you were at riding."

Alec’s indignant squeak at the statement was covered up by the sound of the bike’s engine as they set off. 

The date was lovely. They ate dinner at a nice little restaurant that wasn’t too posh for Alec to feel uncomfortable but was nice enough to be classy. They talked about their various lives. Magnus spoke about his mother and how he’d found a family in Catarina, Ragnor and Raphael. Alec talked about Isabelle, Jace and Max and how his parents had never been around while they were growing up. He admitted that he never got a job in the field he’d studied simply because he already had one and he was using that to help Isabelle pay for her studies. He explained how he’d inherited the apartment he was living in from a distant relative he’d never met. How his great-aunt had somehow found out that Alec’s parents had disowned him for being gay, and since she had been in a relationship with a woman, she’d decided that her home and money would go to Alec. Magnus nodded along and took Alec’s hand when he mentioned his parents. The mood dropped a little but Magnus picked it back up again by telling Alec about how he’d managed to get banned from Peru. 

When they’d finished, Magnus paid, after an argument over who was going to which resulted in Magnus telling Alec he could pay next time, and boy, that had done things to Alec’s heart. 

As they left the restaurant, Magnus took Alec’s hand and they took a walk through a little park that was just across the street. It was nice and Alec couldn’t help but feel like it was rather romantic. The moon was shining brightly and if you looked up you could see a few stars. A walk in the moonlight sounded like something from the romcoms Izzy liked to watch but now Alec kind of got it. He turned to look at Magnus and his breath hitched slightly. The man was beautiful, but in the light of the moon, he looked ethereal. Alec wanted to capture the moment and frame it. 

They walked around for a bit longer before heading back to where Magnus had parked his bike. The ride back to Alec’s felt too short and he made the most of having his arms around the man, holding him tightly and resting his chin on Magnus’s shoulder. When they arrived at Alec’s apartment, they both dismounted the bike and Magnus helped Alec out of the helmet before removing his own. 

“I had a great night,” Alec whispered, looking into Magnus’ eyes. 

“So did I,” Magnus replied, raising a hand to move a piece of hair out of Alec’s face. “May I kiss you?”

Alec was taken aback by the request and it took him a moment to respond. 

“Yes.” 

Magnus leaned in, pressing his lips to Alec’s. It was a soft kiss, a gentle peck that left Alec wanting more. As Magnus pulled away, Alec grabbed the lapel of his shirt, his eyes looking from Magnus’s to his lips and back again. 

“Please?” Alec whispered, causing Magnus to groan and lean in again. 

This time the kiss was more than just a peck. Magnus licked at the seam of Alec’s lips, his tongue slipping inside his mouth. It was soft and sweet and it made Alec’s toes curl. After a short while, which was really not long enough in Alec’s opinion, Magnus pulled away. 

“Good night, Alexander.”

“Good night, Magnus. Let me know when you get home,” Alec replied, stealing another soft kiss. 

He watched Magnus leave, his eyes tracking him until he disappeared from sight. As Alec turned to head inside a movement in one of the windows caught his attention. He looked up and groaned, recognising the silhouettes looking out of his kitchen window. 

Alec entered the building and as the doors to the lift closed, he ran his finger along his lips. He could still feel the press of Magnus’s lips against his and it made butterflies erupt in his stomach. He opened the door and as he closed it behind him he wondered what it would be like to bring Magnus up one day. He hung his jacket up and toed off his shoes. As he walked into the living room, his siblings, who had seemed to have taken the “he’s coming look natural” expression to mean “sit in the most unnatural way possible on any available surface” looked up at him with expectant looks on their faces. 

“So, how was it?” Isabelle asked.

“Perfect.”

Alec ignored her cooing noise. He didn’t even have the will to be annoyed at them for still being there. He was still on his happy cloud.

“I’m going to bed. Feel free to crash in the spare room. Good night.” 

An echo of goodnights followed him as he closed the bedroom door and he collapsed onto the bed. Alec buried his face in his pillow, letting out his happiness and excitement at how it had gone. He felt like a teenager with a crush but couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed about it. Alec was alone in his room after all. He walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth, his mind thinking about the way Magnus had looked in the moonlight. After changing into his pyjamas and crawling into bed, Alec checked his phone and smiled at the message that had just come through. 

Magnus: I got home safe and sound. I had a lovely time, Alexander. I’m looking forward to our second date 😊 Good night. Sleep well and sweet dreams 😘😘

Alec allowed himself a moment of happy shuffles before sending his reply. 

Alexander: Good. I had a great time too. Good night, Magnus 😘

With a boost of courage, he added. 

Alexander: Dream of me 😉

Magnus: Oh, darling, I most certainly will 😏

Alec chuckled as he put his phone on the nightstand. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and the memory of Magnus’s kiss on his lips. 

[trains-go-chuchuu]

chapter six: The cave on the edge

Days had already passed, and the four hostages began to get restless. Mikaela, on the other hand, hopes that no one ever becomes afraid of the pirates, particularly the captain. All they have eaten ever since is fruits, and their water supply is scarce.

‘The irony of living in the sea,’ thought Mikaela, as she could smell how the sweet rotting peels and her hygiene began to fall apart, just like her faith in living for another day.

The boy, feeling a little more comfortable with all of them, began to show a little bit of happiness as the two guards were teaching him a few simple moves of self-defense in case they got separated. Noises echoed outside and the pitter patter of footsteps was heard on the floorboard of the above deck. "Is there a commotion?" she exclaimed. She caught the attention of the other three, and they immediately ran to her side.

The doors of the deck opened and it startled the boy, clinging closely to Mikaela's trousers.

Descending the small flight of stairs are the particular leather boots of the eccentric captain.

"Ahh, you all seem to have lived. That's good, men, take them to the longboats." The captain ordered his crew as he went back above deck. The other pirates began to drag the other four into the longboat.

"Finally some sunlight!" retorted Mikaela as she rolled her eyes at the pirate beside her who had just sneered at her. Bancroft picked up Peter from the ground, not really trusting the crew and keeping their guards up as Dean stood beside Mikaela.

They went above deck and raised their hands in their faces, blocking the sudden brightness of the natural light of which they had been deprived for a long time. As soon as Mikaela's sight returned to normal, she was met with a beautiful mountain covered in moss and spiky rocks. The glimmer of light reflected in the water travels to the cave's mouth.

"On you go now, lass, don't go dilly-dallying!" The older pirate shouted at them as he pushed Mikaela onto the platform of the long boat. She hurriedly picked up her pace, not wanting to deal with the man's temper. Soon, everyone was seated, with Dean next to her and Bancroft in front of them, while Peter sat in his lap. The captain assigned a random crewmate to each edge of the longboat we were on and then set sail towards the cave.

At least six longboats moved in tandem with the ocean's waves, clear blue water mirroring each other and salty wind blowing from time to time. they got nearer the cave, something felt off to

Mikaela. She slowly held onto Dean's hand, who sensed her unease and gripped her hand with the same strength.

She could hear a few whispers here and there and as they entered their destination, a very soft hum of a feminine voice echoed through the place. Dean tugged on her hand softly and looked at her with a raised brow, as if asking whether that was her.

"It wasn't me." She shook her head no, not understanding what the redhead had just asked. As they went deeper, the humming not only became louder, but it seemed to multiply. A harmonious melody floats throughout the air. Small splashes of water can be heard, which alerts everyone on the longboats.

A very peculiar hand then grabbed the side of the boat where Bancroft was seated. Mikaela's eyes went wide when the head of what seemed to be a beautiful woman emerged. She had golden hair and glistening ocean blue eyes. She smiled at her and went to face Bancroft, who was enchanted by the beauty beside him.

She then heard wolf whistles and noises of admiration from the other pirates. She took a look around and saw many other beautiful women emerging from the water. Even the captain was mesmerized by the beauty in front of him.

When Bancroft gave her Peter and went to face the lady, Mikaela soon returned her focus to the maiden in front of them. She got confused and then looked to her right and saw Dean slowly leaning down into the boat.

"DEAN?!!" She shouted and pulled him back while holding onto the child. She heard a hiss and water splashed onto Dean's face. Dean, realizing what had just happened, looked around. He then smacked Bancroft's head with brute force, but not enough to make him tip over.

"WAKE UP BASTARD, YOU ARE BEING BEWITCHED!"

he said angrily. The blonde woman then hissed at Dean, who went back to the water and what floated after almost made Mikaela scream. There was a tail of what seemed to be a large fish attached to the lower part of the maiden.

MERMAIDS.

All the information was too much for Mikaela to process as she gripped onto her seat. She tried to calm her racing heartbeat as the creator she just saw was one of the stories her aunt mentioned at every bedtime story.

There are stories about how these mystical beings are kind but greedy, someone who is not to mess with but a good ally.

As she is in deep thought, a manly scream not too far from them is heard, as is the heavenly laughter of females that follows. After a few grunts from the pirate who fell, another one followed, as if they were slowly being dragged underwater. Peter held onto Mikaela as he buried his face on her neck. Both Bancroft and Dean's faces were white as sheets as the crew of the pirates decreased.

It's a good thing our boatmen are attentive young men, or else we would have been goners as well.' thought Mikaela as she looked over to both of the boatmen in front of her. Unfortunately for Mikaela, the captain survived the enchanting merfolks that they passed through, and soon they reached the end of the cave. Mikaela couldn't believe what she saw as they docked; many colorful gems and golden rocks scattered the area; mermaids freely

swimming in the emerald green water; light illuminated at the top of the cave where a large hole is made. on the tallest rock, was a very large blue crystal like chair, a throne, beautifully adorned

with jewels and pearls scattered at the bottom.

The captain went forward and took both Peter and Mikaela by their collars and, without mercy, pushed them into the deep, freezing water. The two guards screamed and ran towards them,

diving into the water, wanting to rescue the two young ones, but as soon as they hit the water, they were dragged down by multiple arms. And before they knew it, they were dragged down by the laughing merfolk.

Peter unintentionally let go of Mikaela, gasping for air, while the female struggled to hold on to something. She does not understand what is happening the next moment, one minute she was swinging and kicking her arms and feet, and the next she was swept by small but strong arms. She coughed up the water that went inside her, and as soon as she began to gain a little consciousness.

She and Peter were being carried by a woman, her golden eyes glowing in contrast to her long black wavy hair, her tail swinging back and forth until they reached the other end of the cave, far from

the vicious pirates, or what was left of them. The mermaid stood up, showcasing her terrifying strength by carrying both the children and, the moment her body reached the solid ground, her black and green gradient tail became a pair of

smooth legs. She then walked up to the throne and sat there, gently placing Peter on her lap and Mikaela on the arm rest on her left.

Her stoic face made Mikaela shiver. A mysterious aura surrounded her being as she looked intently at the captain across from her.

"You dare throw children onto the water without my permission? Lowly human"