#Antique roll top desk

[cithaerons]

I have the most horrific taste in furniture

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Hello, dears ❤ I do apologize for the lack of content lately (Moving to Germany and getting everything settled, on top of writer´s block and taking German lessons is the culprit, I swear 😂) BUT, I finally got around to writing that scene where Reader has to serve Alcina tea while wearing a remote control vibrator 👀This was written with Sasha in mind (if you can´t tell lol) and I do hope some of you will enjoy! ❤

TW: Slight degradation

Word count: 2,054

The castle clock hadn't yet made it to nine when you found yourself waiting dutifully outside of your employer´s office. You had known better than to enter the large room at a time other than exactly when she requested you to. Being early at Castle Dimitrescu was considered just as much of an offense as being late, with just as dire consequences depending on the Countess´mood. So, you stood there, quietly, obediently, waiting for the old steel bells in the clocktower to strike nine. You had made a point to make sure that everything placed on the silver tray in your hands was precisely as she liked it, your uniform had been freshly pressed, your hair as neatly done as you could get it, and the small toy she had commanded you to wear nestled deep within your core was - while albeit, a little uncomfortable - nice and securely settled in. 

The sound of the first bell had almost made you jump, nearly knocking the antique silver teapot over in turn. You rolled your eyes at yourself and straightened out your vest. You were admittedly more nervous than you´d expected to be - but also excited. Your arousal already beginning to pool, pulsing against the firmness of the toy. Your heart all but a flutter as the final bell finally struck, forcing a slight flush across your cheeks. With a short exhale you knocked softly on the large door. 

“You may enter, pet.” 

Her voice was warm, aged - like a finely distilled whiskey. The sound of it alone brought an even deeper heat to your cheeks, and you knew right then and there that this wasn't going to be easy. Not a single drop spilled, she had said. Not a single one. 

And she had meant it. 

You entered quickly and without pause, eyes adjusting to the bright morning sun as it shown brilliantly into the normally darkened room. Luminous rays of warmth basking the Countess in a dusting of cladden gold. 

“Right on time, pet. As always.” She smirked, looking up at you over the rim of her reading glasses - her desk covered in a mess of invoices and letters for the day ahead. You cleared your throat. 

“Of course, my lady.”

“I do believe that's how you prefer me, Countess, is it not?”

She carefully placed the paper she had been reading on top of the others before allowing the smirk on her lips to curl a little deeper. “Mh, obedient little thing, hm? So eager to please.”

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. <i>Fuck, she wasn’t going to make this easy, was she?</i> Still, you smirked a little in turn, walking closer to the desk, your stride slightly staggered. 

She chuckled. “Feeling rather cheeky this morning, I see.” 

At this you only grinned, placing the serving tray on the one empty spot on her desk and raised the teapot in your hands. “Tea?”

She chuckled again and nodded, leaning back into her chair - with one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in your direction as her gaze raked you over, watching you. She was absolutely stunning in the fresh morning light - nearly evanescent. Her raven locked hair perfectly styled and a tight fitted, white collared shirt in place of her normal everyday dress. It was cuffed at her forearms and hugged her body quite exquisitely. In that moment, you were certain the small toy that remained in your core was already sufficiently drenched, its presence becoming ever more noticeable as you began to set out the tea.   

“I'm assuming you haven’t forgotten our deal?” 

She traced her fingers down your arm and your core immediately clenched, forcing you to adjust your stance. 

“O-of course not, my lady.” 

“Not a <i>single drop</i>.. Or there will be consequences.” 

You nodded. “Yes, my lady.” 

She smirked. 

“Though, something tells me you'd rather enjoy that.” The chuckle that now danced darkly across her lips was dripping in desire, much like the juices that had already begun to drip from your core. And the sight of the small black remote appearing casually between her fingers only fueled that.

Gods, she was not playing fair and she knew-

“Mph-!” 

You let out an embarrassingly needy moan the moment you felt the warm, abrupt vibration deep inside you, your knees almost immediately buckling. 

Fuck. Why had you agreed to this again??

Because you loved it, that's why. You loved the effect she had on you and just how needy she could get you. You loved how aroused you already were, knowing just how much higher she'd eventually take you. With your core soaking wet and absolutely aching for her. 

And this, she knew. 

“Mh.. you look a little flushed, my pet. Is the tea too hot for you?” 

Oh, that devilish smirk as she leaned back into her chair even more, eyes bright with a teasing glint while she idly allowed the remote to dance between two fingers. You cursed softly under your breath before straightening your back, teapot still in hand. 

“Quite the contrary, my lady. The only thing too hot in this room, is you.” You replied with a smug smile, making her chuckle. 

“Always with that silver tongue of yours.” 

“Last I checked you quite enjoyed my tong-” 

Another wave of pleasure erupted in your core, this time even stronger than the last. Your hands held firm around the warm metal as you moaned needlessly, wantingly, the slacks of your uniform growing more soaked by the second. You were panting by the time the vibration was cut short, which only brought forth another chuckle. 

“That I do, pet. Though, it does have the tendency to get you into trouble, no?” 

You cursed again, this time wiping the sweat from your brow before rising back to your full height. Every inch of your body now screaming for more, for release. For her fingers to replace the all too small toy that resided deep within you. You took a steadying breath and smiled, holding the steaming water over her cup. 

“I s-suppose it does, my lady. How would you like your tea this morning?” 

You tried your hardest to remain focused, but your eyes were locked on the tiny remote in her hand. Watching it's every movement, waiting for any indication that she was about to press it. That was until she cleared her throat, bringing your attention swiftly back to her. 

“Eyes on me.” She ordered. 

You nodded. “Yes, my lady. Sorry.” 

You straightened out your vest again, teapot in hand. Your cheeks a deep crimson and your underwear nearly completely soaked through. She watched you intently, a scorching gaze that never wavered and only made the heated place between your legs throb relentlessly. Her lips parting ever so slightly before she spoke, legs coming to cross in front of her. 

“Two cubes of sugar this morning, pet. And a generous pour from my flask.” 

“As you wish, my lady.” 

“Oh, and one of those intricate designs of yours I love so much.” She smirked. “Expertly executed, of course.” 

You swallowed and gave her a nod. “O-of course. Any specific design in mind?” 

“Mh.. surprise me.” She replied with a wink. 

You nodded again and moved a little closer to her desk, a slight tremor to your hand as you reached for the small silver tongs for her sugar. One small clink into the cup and then another, breathing a sigh of relief as you moved onto the flask. Though the moment the dark crimson liquid began to pour from the opening your whole body jerked in pleasure. The vibration, albeit a much softer one, was still plenty enough to send a wave of ecstasy across your body. 

You bit your bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. Your legs trembling as it became harder and harder to focus on anything other than the deep ache in your core. You moved your hand slowly, thighs clenched shut as you continued to pour the dark liquid into the cup before capping it off and shakily placing it back on the tray. A staggered exhale as the toy swiftly shut off again. 

“Very good, pet. Continue.” 

You nodded through a whimper and shifted from one foot to another, your desire now trickling down your inner thigh - your uniform becoming ever more stifling. You could only imagine how flushed your face was, if the rest of you held any indication, that was. Your entire body felt as if it set a flame. As if you were the match and Alcina the strike. You straightened your back once more, this time a little more wobbly and picked up the teapot. 

The look on your Mistress's face was entirely unfair. Smug, and knowing. Nostrils slightly flared as she could undoubtedly smell just how aroused you were - how utterly drenched. You steadied your hands, keeping them both firmly on the now cooling metal as you slowly began to tip it. The warm aroma of Alcina’s favorite tea wafting through the air. A predator’s gaze encased in swirls of steam as she watched you - intensely. A swift flash of crimson in her smile as she pressed the little black button yet again. 

“F-fu-” 

“Language. You're doing so good.” 

“Mmmph-” 

A muffled whimper as your teeth sank hard into your bottom lip, thighs clenched even more than before. You did your best to hold yourself steady. With the only thing working in your favor being the master of your craft - the ability to serve to no end. 

Especially when it came to Alcina. 

Your legs shook, body trembled. Core aching in a way that you had never experienced before. You so badly wanted to come for her, to feel the exquisite release of pleasure that only she could give you. But still, you held strong. Feeling the simple fabric of your slacks grow wetter by the second as you dutifully fill her cup with warm tea. Leaving just enough room for the foam at the top. 

By the time the vibration came to a halt within your aching walls, you were a panting, shaking mess. Hair a muss and beads of sweat dripping down your all too heated face. You honestly weren't sure how much more you could take. If the heartbeat that throbbed so strongly in your core had anything to say about it, you'd likely come the moment she pressed that button again. An act that would surely get you punished. A punishment that would surely be worth it. 

Your hands trembled as you placed the teapot back onto the tray, breath erratic as you looked up to catch her gaze. 

And that smirked. That damned smirk. 

“So dutiful, pet.” She said coyly. “You never do disappoint, do you?” 

Her tongue skated over her bottom lip and wetted it, making you groan. She chuckled yet again. 

“Almost there now. Just one more step.” 

You nodded and quickly added the foamed cream to the top of her cup. She wanted something intricate, she had said, so you knew you couldn't get away with your usual simple heart. And your mind was far too fogged to think of anything creative at the moment. So, you picked up your small metal tool and got to work, brow furrowed as you tried to concentrate. An act that was all the more difficult when the Countess rose from her seat, remote in hand. Her scent even more intoxicating than usual. Her mere proximity fueling the ever throbbing pulse between your legs. 

“I don't think you've ever smelt so aroused before, my pet.” She whispered, leaning in so her bosom was directly eye level. The ebb and flow of her chest, her warm breath across your ear, it was almost all too much. 

You took a deep breath and steadied. 

“A-and whose fault is that?” You replied quietly. 

“Oh. I'm well aware of my affect on you, dear.” She chuckled, leaning in even further. “One could say I revel in it.” 

You whimpered but held your hand steady, intent on finishing the work at hand. You were almost finished as it was, with one or two lines left to g- 

“Mmmph-!” 

There it was again, that all encompassing heat. That warm vibration engulfing your core just as you'd finished the final line on the crest of House Dimitrescu in her cup. She looked down at it, proud and knowing, and leaned her body against yours. You turned fully in her arms, wanting to feel every inch of her against you. 

“Such a good, obedient pet.” Words whispered against your lips before she took your mouth in hers, kissing you deeply. Large hands roaming over your body before resting on the hem of your pants to unbutton them. “Such a shame it'll have to go to waste, hm?”  

She kissed you again before you could even reply. The soaked fabric of your slacks and underwear quickly discarded to the floor as her thigh came to rest between your legs. You moaned, whimpered, clawed at her back as you begged for release. The toy in your core now at its highest vibration as she pressed her thigh against your clit. 

“F-fuck.. Alcina.. please.” 

Her only response was a soft growl and the subtle rock of her thigh, moving deliciously against your most sensitive areas. A prickling heat that built slowly across your body with each movement. With tears streaming down your face and your nails digging into her skin. 

“P-please.. I need to.. I need to come for you.” 

She growled into your swollen lips and pushed her thigh into you even harder, forcing you to cry out. 

“Be a good slut and come for me then.” She hissed.

The next moments that came were all but a blur. Waves of unrelenting pleasure crashing over you as your whole body trembled and shook. As your desire shot out from your core and soaked the soft skin of Alcina's thigh. You weren't even sure how many orgasms she’d given you, or just how long she’d kept you there. With a cold cup of tea resting next to you on the desk as your chest heaved in pants. The silhouette of her leaning over you as you felt yourself begin to fade. Body limp as the darkness swiftly took over you, with the small toy still nestled deep within your core.  

[thetxtdevil]

hiiii!

pls can i request an enemies to lovers beomgyu fic where they go on a trip as a part of a club trip from university. they’re both like the co-leaders of the club but they argue about everything and don’t get along. when they get to the hotel they realise they have to share rooms and their room only has one bed (surprise surprise). stuff then happens and then beomgyu is fucking you mercilessly in front of the large antique mirror in your room making sure that you’re watching him as he’s doing so, making you squirt all over the mirror.

going through my biggest beomgyu brain rot rn 😭

That seems like a big brain rot,,, I hope I fulfill your fantasies

p.s. a little degrading

--nsfw--

"Alright guys head count! Just so we don't lose anybody" You mumble the last part as you gather your club at the exit of the airport. It has happened once before, yes, you guys were adults but its still not fun to be left behind.

"If anyone is going to lose count its you." says Beomgyu the other leader of the college's World Music Club. The man who gets on your last nerves.

Beomgyu is a handsome, smart, energetic, and musically inclined, everybody loves him but for some reason he just irks you. He can play the guitar really well and when you pick up the instrument you barely play a note before he starts correcting you. You will discuss your favorite music to be interrupted by Beomgyu disagreeing with that choice. even though you caught him once singing/dancing to one of your favorites, he threaten you not to tell anyone. You do the same, getting under his skin, call him ugly even though he gives you butterflies, call him stupid just to steal his idea. Its a never ending cycle.

You were just a bunch of college student trying to get away from school but you had to come up with an idea to make a vacation club oriented. So for spring break the World Music Club decided to go to the beach and scavenge for any music playing or instruments laying around. All of the club was in a van-bus, sitting next to Beomgyu he rolls his eyes when you bounce in your seat looking at the palm tress pass by and a small band on the side of the street playing free style jazz. After long ride to the edge of the island the van drops the club off.

"Why did you have the van take us here?" Beomgyu pouts as the drop off place was no where near the hotel.

"Well this is the square where there is surely a lot of musical opportunities and we need to eat." You wave your hand as if it was all an obvious plan.

All of the club, including you and Beomgyu, finally agreed to eat at the pizza place. There you all stuffed your faces and there you realized it was going to be a long vacation. You side eye Beomgyu as he eats loudly, smacking his lips, you watch as his stupid kissable plush lips turn red by the sauce and then watch him use his thumb to wipe it off to smudge it on you. Then noticing he's been sitting and walking right by your side all this time. Is he trying to irritate you?

Luckily the hustle and bustle of the tropical town distracted you. Live singers, homeless guitarists, and open to everyone steel drums. Perfect for the club and perfect to keep your mind off Beomgyu's lingering stares.

The sun was setting, street lights turned on, as the temperature cools down. You complained about being cold shivering your your thin tank top. "I think it feels nice, here wear my jacket."

"I don't want to wear your stupid jacket." you smack at Beomgyu as he takes the jacket off his shoulders. Eventually you cave in wearing his jean jacket on the walk to the hotel. It smells like Beomgyu, gross.

At the lobby's desk you were given one key. You quirk your eyebrow at the employee, "Is there another key?" "nope"

Beomgyu laughs at you seeing your flushed face looking like you just saw a ghost. Soon after he looked like the same when both of you came to your hotel room with one small "queen" sized bed.

"No, no, and no, I'll sleep on the chair or the floor if I have to" the room was nice, cutely decorated, and a beautiful view of the ocean, you contemplated the state of the situation until you see it, "why is there a damn mirror right next to the bed!"

Eventually Gyu persuades you to sleep on the bed with him. Both cleaned up and ready to get the night over with, however this is a week long trip. Laying on your side facing away from Beomgyu but tortured by your reflection from the mirror. You can't sleep, wanting to turn but stopping yourself from facing the man.

"Stop moving"

"You’re hogging up the bed"

Beomgyu's eyes open to turn towards you. Your eyes widen when you watch the reflection of the man put his arm around your waist and face in the crook of your neck. "If you weren't scared of getting closer, you wouldn't have to sleep on the very edge of the bed."

His breath was warm against your skin, you tried so hard not to sink into the feeling. "Get off, your hair is tickling me," but you don't budge, you just stare into the mirror to see his eyes looking at you through the mirror. He smirks as his big hand snakes underneath your shirt making you squirm to the touch. "I know we don't get along but I can't help but notice how you've been looking at me."

An unexpected whine escapes your lips when you feel his hand brush down to your lower belly. You felt hot, trying hard not to obviously rub your thighs together, "I look in disgust."

"Just admit it y/n." Slowly but surly Beomgyu's hand creeps down to your clothed cunt rubbing circles against your clit. You bite down on your lip trying so hard not to give in, but it was no use, you weren't fighting it and Beomgyu can clearly see your pleasured face.

"Get off of me," you finally escape the cell of his arms lifting your torso so you can at least seem bigger than him, "What's your deal?"

Beomgyu groans in annoyance, his eyes burn into yours. Before you know it the man pushes you down on your back caging you in bed with his arms. All you can look at now is him, his luscious unkept locks framing his dumb pretty brown eyes, and his irritating mouth getting closer and closer to your lips. "Say it" he wants you to confess but all you say is, "I hate you." Beomgyu smashes his lips to yours, kissing roughly. Pent up anger fueling every movement of your lips, tongue, even teeth clash with each other.

You gasp for air leading Beomgyu to abuse your neck. His bites were definitely going to leave embarrassing marks the next day but they felt so hot. Your hands grabbing clumps of his hair pulling the strands only to have him moaning at the sharp pain. Each pull of his hair urges Beomgyu to roll his hips into yours feeling a very distinct bulge. "Would you hate me if I fuck you?" you answer was with a small "mhm" as your roll your hip up against his.

You're too deep in pleasure to see Beomgyu's cocky smile as he watches your face contort. Dipping his face into your cleavage of your deep v-neck, hands roaming down to your shorts dragging them down with your panties. His long fingers glide into your slit satisfied with the amount of slick. "Are you sure 'cus your body is saying otherwise."

You open your eyes looking down to be faced with his somehow perfect thick dick. Throwing you head back once he slides his cock in your folds, pushing his tip against your swollen bud. He finally lines his tip to your weeping hole already feeling the stretch. Suddenly you feel a harsh grasp of your jaw pulling your face to the mirror, "look at yourself, look how pathetic."

You watch yourself become fucked out as you feel the painful stretch of Beomgyu's cock. You could feel every curve, every vein of his member sliding in. It felt so good that you vision of your reflected self became blurry from your tears. Beomgyu gave you no time to relax and adjust, he thrusts in and out feverishly making the weak hotel bed squeak. Your moans were fighting the sounds of the bed, the skin slapping, and his groans. "Still hate me now, huh?" Beomgyu looks at the mirror getting even more turned on by the sight of him taking over you. His release soon follows after watching your fucked-dumb face as you come on his cock.

"Fuck we should go on these club vacations more."

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[tahdashi]

CRAWLING INTO HIS LAP. . .

✦ ft: the tot boys x gn!reader

✦ a/n: i am a physical touch and sweet pet name enthusiast

✦ ARTEM came back from the firm a few hours ago. sleepiness was apparent in the way he sat on the couch — his feet propped up on the coffee table and a cup of tea in his hand. his head was thrown back to rest on the back of the couch, and you could see the way that the rise and fall of his chest seemed to slow down a bit. the last of the golden sun cast its honeyed rays into the living room, surrounding your boyfriend in a comforting glow. you made your way over to him, careful not to let the floor creak too loud underneath you. as he sees you approach, artem places the cup aside and lets you lift his arm so that you can slide under it, settling against his chest with a hum. "oh, hi, sweetheart." his words are laced with a yawn and his sapphire eyes gleam with adoration. "do you need something?" you shake your head, curling into his chest and adjusting your legs on top of his. your arms make their way around his torso, enveloping him in your scent and warmth. "i just missed you," you murmur into him. you feel his lips press into the top of your head, and soon, his hand rubbing circles into your back. and before you know it, your bodies sleep peacefully as the sun retreats.

✦ MARIUS always takes time for himself between meetings. he scrolls through his phone at his desk, sipping on an iced coffee that was a bit watered down, but still did the job of keeping him awake for the rest of his busy day. he sees you come in from the corner of his eye and immediately swivels the chair around in your direction. his hands find your waist, and he widens his legs so you can find your place between them. as you settle into his lap, marius’ hands trace shapes into your back. “hey, missed me?” you nod into his chest and marius, a bit too delighted with your answer, coos as he presses kisses all over your face. you can’t even push him away if you tried — the obnoxious sound of each kiss fills the room. “you’re so cute, did you know that?” “hmm, not like my boyfriend tells me every day.” and with that, marius nods profusely, knowing he’s the boyfriend that gets to see your pretty face each day (and also the one to kiss you all over — lucky him). you try to push yourself up from his lap, but his arms don’t let you. you should know better, really, because when marius gets to hold you, he has a hard time letting go.

✦ LUKE always went straight to your bed after a long day to relax. he'd woken up early this morning to head to the antique store and work on some projects for clients, followed by half his day being spent investigating a particularly challenging case. you could tell he had a hard day — his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes dull as he scrolled through his phone. you tiptoe into the room, and the second he sees you, his entire body relaxes. he reaches his arms up to stretch his body out and you take the opportunity to crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and catching him by surprise. "oh, joining me, pretty?" his arms come back down to link behind your back and he tucks you even closer to his body, leaning his head on top of yours. you pull away for a second to see his relaxed face and place a soft kiss between his previously furrowed brows. he quickly pulls you back in. "let's stay like this for a bit," he yawns. "thanks for being here with me, babe."

✦ VYN was working at his desk, sorting through some files. classical music played in the background and he hummed along to the familiar tunes that reminded him of you. a smile appears on his face the second you walk into the room, and he immediately puts all his attention on you. his eyes follow your figure as you make your way to his chair. rolling away from the desk, vyn makes room for you to carefully seat yourself on his lap. his smile never fades — he loves being close to you. "i'm sorry i've been so busy, love. just a few more files and i'm all yours." sincerity pools in his eyes, radiating warmth meant just for you. you tell him to take his time, getting comfortable and playing with his hair while he continues his work. the rosy blush never leaves his cheek just like the hand on your side never stops smoothing along your skin. your heart beats against his, and he thinks that perhaps he should always work like this.

reblogs are appreciated !

[a-strange-inkling]

Haunted bookshop AU for the thing <3 <3

this has awakened things in me! 📚 👻

• chrissy desperately needs an after school job to earn enough money to get away from her mother. she applies at all the small businesses along main street. she gets a few call backs, but none are as peculiar or intriguing as mayflower books, a small antique bookshop that does not bear any resemblance to its fresh, springy name.

• the bookshop is old, disorganized and completely stuffed full. dusty books stacked haphazardly in every nook and cranny, shelves bursting at the seams. with all the stacks, it’s like a labyrinth, there’s a few hidden rooms and reading corners. her mother would hate it. but there’s something warm and cozy about the place that chrissy can’t explain when she comes in to meet with the owner. something that makes her accept the job and take the afternoon shift from three to eight o clock.

• the owner is a sweet old man who’s so happy to have such a nice girl like chrissy to bring some new life into the place. he’s slowing down in years and would like to have his evenings off, but he couldn’t bare leaving the shop all on its own. he seems to really love his store. he talks about it like it’s a person rather than just a building. the arrangement is perfect all spring and summer long. chrissy greatly enjoys running the front desk, exploring the shop, and finding new books to read. it’s the perfect place for her to escape and hide from her life. she slowly starts to fall in love with it too. mr. munson’s right. there’s a warm presence that always makes her feel so happy and at home.

• however, thing change when autumn rolls around and the days get shorter. chrissy’s a little frightened of the dark. the hour before closing she starts to hear noises, books falling over, strange whispering sounds. it goes on for awhile until one night she’s so scared she begins to cry. one of the ghastly noises makes her duck under the desk. there’s someone in the shop with her. she knows it.

• and then there’s a gentle knock on top of the desk and she finds a boy standing there, well a young man. just a few years older than her maybe. and yes, he’s a little scary, with long wild hair and a big leather jacket, but when he smiles chrissy isn’t so frightened anymore and feels a little silly about it. he asks her why she’s so upset and she tells him about the noises and that she feels like she’s going crazy. she thinks the place might be haunted. he laughs, “oh yeah? do you believe in all that? ghosts?”

bonus:

• she whispers that she doesn’t know, a little flushed. but she likes the sound of his laugh, it reminds her a little of mr. munson’s. she asks the strange boy if she can help him find anything. he laughs again, telling her that he knows his way around. his uncle’s the owner and he used to help him run the store when he was a kid.

• chrissy is fascinated. mr. munson never mentioned a nephew before, but then, he is a private, quiet man. he doesn’t say much of anything. the boy tells her his name, eddie, and chrissy promptly replies “i’m chrissy.” he nods bashfully, like he already knew that. he tells her he’ll stay with her and help her close up, if she wants. he knows absolutely everything about the store, that it used to be called munson books, but mr. munson changed the name to mayflower books after his wife, may passed away. eddie excitedly shows her even more secret places and passageways that she didn’t even know existed. he digs around and finds her book titles that he thinks she might like to try too. it’s like he knows all her favorite authors and genres.

• chrissy begins to look forward to closing time now. eddie stops in every night so she won’t be scared or alone. he’ll help her tidy up and sort the shelves. she never hears the noises or whispers when he’s around, he makes her feel so safe. sometimes they just sit and read together, other times they’ll talk until chrissy’s voice is hoarse. to her amazement, she feels herself falling for him.

• it’s of course, quite a horrible shock when she discovers that mr. munson’s nephew was murdered several years ago.

[fortisfilia]

Promised Part 17 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: none, finally

Word count: 1.3k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 16

Part 17 - Epilogue

The year after the incident at the chapel in Ramsbury went by very uneventfully compared to your last year at Hogwarts and the weeks after, even though so much was changing. Boring was certainly not the right word to describe it. Everyone involved had wished for a bit of peace and was more than happy to live a quiet life for a bit.

Marvolo’s body had been buried appropriately. A small bribe had been enough to make the Mediwizard who had examined him confirm that he had died naturally, of old age. He had been right after all, they must have really been a bunch of quacks in St. Mungos.

Morfin wasn’t to be found anywhere. Gaunt Manor had been empty, apart from the two house elves, when Tom and you had gone there. He must have apparated to the manor after Nagini had attacked him, however. A great amount of Galleons and some potions were missing when his chambers were searched. Hokey and Scrook wouldn’t tell anyone what they had seen - they were still loyal to their Masters. They didn’t want to be freed either, even begged not to be given proper clothes. So Tom gave them to Hepbzibah Smith, an old witch who was known to be an avid collector of magical antiquities and was looking for elves to serve her.

Since Morfin wasn’t there to inherit any of Marvolo’s riches, they were passed down to Tom directly. He owned Gaunt Manor now, as well as the mountains of Galleons that were locked up in the Gaunt’s vaults at Gringotts. While Gaunt Manor had been tempting to pack your bags and move into, neither of you fancied the thought. The house was linked to countless haunting memories for Tom and despite its enormous size, it was way too cold and rigid for your liking - too stark a reminder of the Gaunts themselves. 

So Tom sold it to a wealthy family, muggles as far as you were aware, which must have made Marvolo turn over in his grave one last time.

Tom bought a house in your home town shortly after, smaller yet still as boastful as you had expected it to be. It even had a telephone installed, which you didn’t mention to him after you had given him a look when you had seen it, to which he had just shrugged and rolled his eyes. 

You didn’t move in with him immediately, as your parents didn’t allow you to leave your home unmarried. They allowed you to visit him, though, and you did so as often as possible. 

Life had gone on as it always did and you had gotten a job right after school. The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers had reached out after they had seen your grades and had received a letter from Professor Slughorn. They had asked if you wanted to be trained to become a Potions Master, which was an honour, not many witches and wizards were granted with. It hadn’t taken long for you to accept, so you were in close contact with one of their tutors, a witch by the name of Guiliana Toffana.

Tom had taken on a desk job for the Ministry, which paid well even if it wasn’t the most exciting work to do. He had plans though, wanted to work himself to the top one day. And for all you knew, there was no one stopping him from doing so.

Camille had started working as an assistant at Ollivander’s Wand Shop in Diagon Alley. The year had been hard to bypass for her, as she wasn’t able to see Ben as often. They sent each other owls almost daily and the only thing you worried about was that none of you were in Hogwarts anymore to help Ben out with Herbology. Tom had suggested that your little sister Elsie could help him study, as she had started her first year and had been sorted into Gryffindor. 

On 1st July 1946, one year and one day after your almost-wedding, Tom invited you over to his house. You would have lied if you had said you weren’t expecting it. And he met your expectations by getting down on one knee. He asked you to marry him again, 366 days after he had done so the first time. And your answer was different now.

Just a few weeks later - you would never have thought it possible to organise a wedding so quickly, well, what a bit of pocket money can do - the big day had come.

It couldn’t have been more different from the day in Ramsbury. Your whole family, even the distant aunts and cousins, as well as all of your friends had been invited. Everyone gathered in a small castle north of the Peckforton Hills in Cheshire, where the ceremony and subsequent celebrations were to take place. Even muggles would have described the place as magical. Its old walls and lush, green lawn inside the courtyard reminded you of Hogwarts a lot. 

You wore an elegant white dress, not Mother’s, but one you had picked out yourself. One last look into the mirror before the ceremony would begin and, you even had to admit to yourself, you had never looked better. 

Father had to help to calm you down before you entered the chapel with him. Walking down the aisle with the music playing and all eyes fixated on you was scarier than fighting the Gaunts had been. But Father was there by your side, leading you up to the altar safely.

And the moment you spotted Tom waiting for you there, all nerves were soothed. He bit his lip while you approached him slowly, his eyes wandering up and down your figure. A smile, one that even reached his eyes, formed on his face and didn’t seem to leave after he had taken in the sight. 

Ben, his best man, stood behind him, and only watched Camille, your maid of honour, from the side as tears of joy ran down her face.

The officiant’s speech got drowned out by your thoughts, as you lost yourself in Tom’s eyes, standing face to face with him in front of all of the guests. The way he looked back at you, deeply but still collected, sent your mind drifting.

Love surely wasn’t like it was described inside a book, no, but when the people involved were honest and trusting, it could turn out to be even better than words were able to ever describe it. You both had changed so much since you had gotten close. And you were going to change with every day that you would spend together. There was much work to be done still, many compromises to be made and a lot of healing yet to start. But you were sure that with an open heart and a tiny bit of luck, you were going to make it. And you couldn’t wait. 

Time had passed by so quickly until now and it would pass by equally as fast from now on. Every day was just another grain of sand falling down the hourglass that was life. But now that every grain had Tom in it, they seemed to drop differently. Happier, more meaningful and full of expectation for what’s to come. Every grain was to be cherished and the two of you promised that to each other when you both said the words. “I do.”

The end. 

Masterpost | Masterlist

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta

[spectralsleuth]

You mentioned that the Hamato household in LSoW and LSoE looks like a wizard's house and that it is filled with furniture that Yoshi inherited from his family... Can you imagine how much historians and antique collectors would be just going gaga about all the priceless stuff in the Hamato home. Like every room has original hand-crafted tables, desks, etc. that can be dated back hundreds of years, the walls have scrolls and weapons crafted by famous masters from 300 years ago. I can just imagine that Yoshi agreed to an interview in his home and, never mind his turtle kids, someone points out the furniture and wall art and people go nuts! This aging action star is just casually mentioning how his sons used to teeth on the chair legs and antique collectors around the world die a little, all while he is sitting on an old chair that was made from a rare tree in Japan worth as much as a down payment on the house and just sipping tea like it's nothing.

Yoshi tapped his foot irritably.

"I really don't understand what the problem is- you sound like my Grandfather." Not a flattering comparison.

"You're not even using a coaster." The camera man looked as if he was in pain, and Yoshi could honestly say that he had not had this much chit-chat from any crew member he'd ever had in his home.

The house was still in a slight state of disarray from the move- there were boxes in the master bedroom stacked to the ceiling, and Blue and Purple had not been separated long enough to be convinced of the benefits of their own bedroom. As a result, both of their bedrooms were half unpacked and mixed together.

Yoshi wasn't particularly passionate about separating the two, but considering every single day it seemed they broke into screaming matches and biting, you would think they would enjoy having their own space as much as Orange and Red did.

It was not so. He could barely get them to sleep in their own bed at this point, but since they were only eight he thought it was prudent to take the separation slow. (At least that was what Dr. Harper had said, when he had floated the idea of encouragement via booby traps and spray bottles by her.)

"It is a piece of furniture- it is meant to be used." It wasn't often that Yoshi thought he was mistranslating English- but he thought this might be one of those situations. The confused looks the Vanity Fair reporter was giving him was selling that impression, and he did not much care for it. "I set things on it? I put- items, in the drawers?" What was the other word for items- funny words, like, oh what was it. "Knick knacks." Sounded like a word for underwear if you asked him.

"This is from the Meiji era." The camera man explained, reverently removing Yoshi's coffee mug from the polished wooden surface. A lost cause, since there was already many overlapping rings of differing shades of brown covering the surface.

There were chips and scuffs covering the top, small marks where Red had rolled over the top during chases with his brothers and left shell-shaped divots, and where Blue and Purple had scratched with idle claws while watching the Mr. Nye TV show. There were crayon marks on the sides, where Orange had run off of his paper with his crayons. He was a good boy and did not draw on furniture on purpose, but accidents happened, and Xander often could not keep up.

"Yes, my great great grandfather commissioned it. I believe from the Emperor's carpenters, to celebrate the new constitution and property they bought in- well, I honestly do not recall. Is this relevant?" Yoshi asked wearily, feeling a twinge of displeasure at even starting to sound like his Ojii lecturing on history.

"There's only about fifty pieces made total in this style- there's no nails in the construction, look it's all joinery on the shelves-" The camera-man was saying, and to Yoshi's displeasure the reporter was still recording using the small device in her hand.

"I thought we were discussing my new movie." Yoshi pointed out, not plaintively, because he was a grown man with four children. "I mean, I have older furniture than that in the bathroom."

The camera man paused, and stared at him. "... Sorry?"

"The bathroom." Yoshi pointed out, and (sensing another translation issue possibly), said "It is where you piss."

"Piss!" Orange yelled from the hallway, where he went sprinting by with the tap-tap-tap of feet.

"DO NOT REPEAT THAT!" Yoshi called out. He was drowned out by Blue and Red fast on Oranges tail, screaming with laughter. It was nice to hear Red's laughter for a change, but since his eldest was also chasing his brothers with a stock pot and a spoon, Yoshi thought he should intervene. "Excuse me, one moment."

Red was only willing to trade the stockpot for a yardstick, which he began beating on Blue and Orange's shells respectively. Since his two youngest were giggling wildly, Yoshi left them to it and turned on cartoons in one of the bedrooms for them to watch when they grew tired of hitting each other.

By the time he got back to the Vanity Fair crew, they had gathered in the hallway, and were being shown the bathroom by a very pleased looking Purple.

"Ah Purple, excellent work my son- ah. I was kidding about the furniture-"

"No you weren't." The cameraman accused, looking frantic and pale. "This is a silver backed oriental mirror from under- oh I don't know. Kōmei? Ninkō?

"Kōka." Yoshi corrected, hating himself. "So, both probably."

Purple tugged on the cameraman's sleeve, and (looking hesitant) the camera man bent down to listen as Purple cupped hands around his snout in order to whisper in his ear.

"YOU WRITE ON IT?" The man gasped, looking appalled.

"I have raised a tattle-taler." Yoshi said mournfully, as Purple looked smugly at him from behind the reporter's legs. "Why don't you go help smack your brothers you snitch?"

Purple's tail started thumping against the cabinet at the idea, and he dropped to all fours to put on speed as he darted out between Yosh's legs and down the hall.

"Why are you so obsessed with furniture anyway?" Yoshi asked the cameraman after Purple had disappeared down the stairs, and he heard Blue and Orange start squealing in delight.

"My parents own a museum exhibit." The camera man said idly, pulling the mirror back from the wall enough to peer behind, and make a wounded noise. "It has the manufacturer seal on it still."

"Oh course it does. All Hamato furniture is authentic."

"It has crayon on it." The camera man looked close to tears.

"Yes?" Yoshi didn't understand the question. He looked at the reporter, who was still recording and writing furiously. "You are going to want to put this into the article, aren't you?" Yoshi sighed.

The reporter gave him a winning smile. "I think our readers would enjoy this very much Mr. Hamato."

[catapparently]

~The Glass Ballerina's Reputation~

CHAPTER 1- ...Ready for it?

Masterlist • Chapter 2

averyjameson!mafia AU After Avery's mother's death, she is left with many questions. What happened to her mother's family? Who were they? Why did her mother never talk about them? Why did Jameson Winchester Hawthorne appear in her life? ...What is her mother's secret?

When Avery was a kid, her mom was constantly inventing games. Not your average games like Hide-And-Seek or Tag. They were always small tests, a competition. Once they’d played the Who-Can-Stack-The-Most-Pancakes or Who-Could-Build-The-Tallest-Tower-of-Cards. There was always something to find, something to figure out- something to fix or something to take apart. A challenge. The rush of excitement and the thrill that came with success is what made Avery feel alive.

The last game her mother had made for her was the Don’t-You-Dare-Miss-Me game, where she sent Avery on a challenge to find a mysterious item. It was the longest game yet, suspiciously so. When her mom gave her such complicated games, like that one time she made Avery an escape room, she’d leave little clues that would confirm she was on the right track. Yet this game had been completely devoid of all that. All she was told was to find “where the heart feels whole”.

There was only one possible answer to that. Home. Not their little apartment, no. The antique shop her mother owned, right under where they lived. That’s where they felt at home. Each of the little trinkets they received from donations or found had a story behind them. Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep, Avery would sneak downstairs to the antique shop and try to guess the object’s history. Once they’d received one of those old vintage desks, the ones that had even more shelves on top of the tabletop itself, and a bunch of hidden compartments everywhere. It even had its very own built in gas lamp. She could vividly imagine the original owner sitting at it, working with a quill and a pot of ink, furrowing his brow in concentration or struggle. It was objects like these that had a meaning, that were valued and cherished. They had stories.

When she’d entered the shop, she didn’t find any clue to indicate she was on the right track. The place had felt strange without her mother there ever since she’d been hospitalized.

Avery searched high and low. Nothing. Finally, she went to a relatively small room behind the counter and pushed open the door. There was a fireplace. It had been there ever since her mom had rented this place, but it didn’t work. Sometimes they’d bring chairs and sit around it, pretending it worked. Their home. That’s when her mom told her stories about who she was before she had Avery. About  Ricky. About a secret lover. Not once did she ever mention her family.

For Avery, home was where her mom was. Family.

She immediately noticed that one of the wood planks of the flooring was askew. She slipped her fingers beneath it, blindly feeling around for something. Sure enough, she felt it. A paper with a phone number. Libby Grambs, it read, above the string of numbers.

By the time Avery made it back to the hospital, the heart monitor wasn’t beeping with that annoying yet reassuring ding. The bleak room was even more uneasily silent, devoid of life.

It was at that moment that Avery decided to never play again.

“I thought you promised to stay away from him, Lib.”

Avery was tired of watching Libby dust the antique shop over and over again, hobbling around with her black eye and bumping into everything. There were two things Libby always did when she had something on her mind- she either bakes a bunch of cupcakes that Avery would have no choice but stuff herself with later or dusts the antique shop until even the antiques themselves looked brand new.

“I couldn’t help it, Ave. He… he called me and said sorry and that he wanted to meet up.”

Avery rolled her eyes and tapped on the cash register in anger, though holding back from crushing the keys. They definitely couldn’t afford another one unless one of them suddenly married some rich man.

It was always the same story. Libby did or said something Drake didn’t like. Then he’d hit her. Only once, but it was already too much. Then he’d apologize and do his usual speech, and Libby would forgive him.

“This is the seventh time you’ve broken up with him,” she spat at her sister. “Make it be the last.”

Libby nearly knocked over another vintage jewelry box. “I can’t help it.” She ducked down to steady the box, probably already thinking about what types of cupcakes she was going to bake this time.

“How about you go and flip the OPEN sign outside? We should close up. I doubt we’re going to get any more customers at this hour.”

Libby nodded and went to the front door. Just as she was going out, she slammed straight into a man who had just opened the door to come inside.

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry I didn’t mean to–”

Avery glanced over while her sister started rambling away. A man with ashy brown hair and a cowboy hat was helping her sister up in a gentlemanly manner. He had matching cowboy boots, too. He looked… quite odd, honestly. Dressed as both a cowboy and in a fancy way at once. She couldn’t tell if he was some rich guy mocking cowboys or just a desperate wannabe. His skin glowed a beautiful tan, though Avery was skeptical as to whether it was real or not. These days bronzing drops were all the rage.

“Be careful, darlin’,” the handsome stranger said to her sister, whose blush seemed very visible because of her pale skin, looking at him as though he was a heaven-sent messenger offering tickets to paradise. She was so red even her blue roots seemed to be turning purplish.

Libby shyly thanks him and practically runs out the door, red-faced. The stranger’s gaze follows her curiously, and then he picked up an item that had fallen off a nearby shelf when he’d bumped into her. He then turned around and headed for the counter.

“The name’s Nash.” He glanced out at the sign Libby was flipping outside that now read ‘CLOSED’. “Well, mind if I take a look around even though you seem to be closing up? I promise I won’t take long.”

Avery nodded, watching him as he wandered around the little shop, his boots clicking rhythmically. He stopped at a particular shelf and picked up a knife, flipping it over in his large palm. It had patterns engraved onto the blade and a gem encrusted hilt, one of the more expensive items the shop had to sell lately.

“I’ll buy it,” he said, looking back up. The strange cowboy came and placed it on the counter, pulling out a shiny black card.

“Is that your sister?” he asked as she rummaged around, trying to find the magnetic stripe reader. Customers didn’t usually arrive waving around a fancy card.

“Yeah.” Avery paused, looking at him suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

Nash raised an eyebrow playfully. “Ever heard of genuine, well intentioned romantic interest, kid?” he said, a slight southern accent dragging out some vowels and adding an atypical rhythm to his speech. Was that real, too? “What’s her name?”

“Libby. And stay far, far away from her,” she warned as she handed him the receipt and the knife. ‘Nash’ gave her a grin.

“Farewell, little miss. I’ll make sure to come around again, and maybe I’ll have my brothers tag along next time.” With that, he tipped his cowboy hat at her and winked, then turned around to walk out. Avery glared at him through the store’s glass door as he chatted away with Libby outside.

Her fists tightened on the edges of the countertop; fragments of their yapping being heard through the open window. Libby did not need another act to her tragic love life. Drake was already more than enough.

Sure, this guy looked nicer, but you could never know for sure. Drake had looked handsome and calm at first, too.

Avery rubbed her temples, trying to soothe the already forming headache as Libby burst back into the store, blabbing away.

“Avery, isn’t he so dreamy? I never liked cowboys but…”

Someone kill me now.

~~~

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future chapters!

[omgthatdress]

Kit’s School dress is a very cute jumper-style dress. The little oxfords are an excellent touch.

One of my fave Youtube channels, Tasting History with Max Miller, recently did a video about 1930s school lunches, and Kit’s school lunch is unsurprisingly spot-on!

The thing about Kit’s school collection that absolutely drives me nuts, though is the roll-top desk:

Oh my GOD adult me wants it so bad! Admittedly, I am a massive slut for antique writing desks. Being a writer and all. Since there’s only so many school desks AG can design, I really like that they went in the direction of a home furniture desk with Kit.

(1stdibs.com)

That and the fact that she got a TYPEWRITER. Oh my god, I can’t handle it.

[violetsiren90]

Stolen Tides

(A What the Moon Saw Drabble)

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: Drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends; old flames rekindled, angst and fluff

Summary: Time is the great force - it changes everything. The ebb and flow of the tide. The fullness of the moon. It carves mountains, and quiets storms...but it stands powerless in the face of love.

Content Warnings: PG-13, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; nudity, implied sex, cooking and eating food, mention of minor character death, kissing, cuddling, working through feelings, tears are shed (it's them, so, of course, lol)

Author's note: I literally just posted a poll asking which drabble I should write first, and their first meeting won (which I was stoked about), but then this popped into my head and I just wrote it. I wrote it while I was supposed to be submitting a project with a deadline, because, in the words of MYG, I'm bad boi. But...I had to. I gave them their ending because they deserved it. 💕 (If you've never read the one-shot this universe takes place in, I recommend starting there!)

And as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

*Stolen tide: Occurs when weather and wind conditions suppress the ebb of a flood tide and then the next high tide washes in bringing even higher levels.

    Your lids raised and dipped and raised again, like linens in a summer breeze, as your eyes came into focus. Soft late-morning light spilled through the window onto the golden-brown planks of the oaken floor. The western-facing window was open, and the thin curtains billowed inward with each puff of salty air cresting over the hill off the distant waves. Your eyes tracked a spider plant swaying from where its macrame harness was secured to a hook in the spackled ceiling. You shifted in the white sheets of the queen-size bed to glance around you. The room was small and minimally furnished, but everything within it seemed significant to its tenant. There was a little bookshelf propping up a guitar, and a roll-top desk bearing an open journal and coffee mug. On the other side was a nightstand with an antique lamp perched beside a book splayed open on its face and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. On the far end was a dresser with pretty little mother-of-pearl knobs topped with two potted succulents and an abstract of an albatross in flight, and the accordion door of a closet cracked open to reveal neatly stored clothes and shoes.

    You tossed yourself back against the pillows with a sigh, a smile spreading slowly across your face as images from the previous night developed in the morning light like Polaroid pictures. You reached out to brush a hand over the sheets where he had slept beside you, as naked as you were now. You'd awakened in the middle of the night to find that you'd taken all the covers and to see him, laying there on his stomach - his sweet little ass pale and perfectly bare in the moonlight. You chuckled and bit your lip, slipping out of bed to pull on panties and snatch a flannel from the closet and drape it over your body, pushing up the sleeves to bunch around your elbows. He had always worn his shirts too big, and it dipped down to your mid thighs as your legs carried you toward the scents of garlic and gochujang wafting down the hall. 

    The kitchen was as simple in its loveliness as the rest of the little house, pale yellow light pouring through the large windows over a vase of poppies on a table flanked by two chairs. And a man who used to be a boy was standing at the other end of the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes in a way that made you question if a single day had passed. Yoongi stood at the little stove in a white tee and grey sweats, his dark hair sticking up every which way and his face puffy from sleep. You had to press a hand to your lips to keep from giggling at his appearance, and when he glanced up you found yourself unable to conceal an amused and extremely endeared grin.

    “What?” he asked in sleepy suspicion, his brows up and knitted together as his lips dropped into a pout.

Thirty-two and as cute as he had ever been. You chuckled as you circled around his left, where you turned towards him and slipped your body between his and the stove. Wrapping your arms around his back as he looked down, you regarded him. The same. He looked just the same. His features were a bit more defined, the soft cheeks having sharpened at his cheekbones and jawline, and he was broader and thicker with longer hair that curled at the base of his neck. But his eyes with the dark lashes, his petal pink lips...the way they felt on you...he was the same. You lifted your face to place the gentlest kisses on every feature - the ones that had changed and the ones that hadn't. 

He let out a soft hum, his left arm slipping around your waist as he shifted you slightly to the side, prodding at the contents of the pan with the wooden spoon in his right hand.

“The food will burn,” he chided lightly.

But his eyes creased at the corners and his mouth seemed to hover on the verge of a smile. You twisted to glance at the pork belly fried rice before nestling yourself back into him, your head on his chest.

“Smells good,” you murmured into his shirt.

“Mm. It’s just leftovers,” he replied, in the warm, even tone that pierced your heart like a forgotten melody. 

You pressed back the tears that threatened to come. The moon had seen enough of those last night.

"You were always good at cooking, like your mom,” you sighed into his tee. 

He didn't reply, but he tucked his cheek against your head, his thumb dragging his shirt up and down your back in tiny tender motions. You held him and he held you, and the pork fat sizzled on the stove, and a wind chime tinkled outside the kitchen window, and far off and down the ocean broke against the rocks.

And then he slowly drew you away from his chest so that he could see your face, his eyes meeting yours with the soft wet glimmer of joy and sadness at once, like the soil after a rainfall - that damp warmth from which beautiful things grow - and you buried yourself there, like a seed dropped from the sky by a bird. Dropped on the side of a cliff by the sea.

    Between mouthfuls of fried rice and kimchi eggs, you told him about college. About your passion for your chosen career. About meeting a boy who wasn't him, who had asked you to be his wife. About how you had chosen a dress and sent out invitations and then said no. Yoongi nodded quietly, but didn't ask why. Then he told you about how his father had succumbed to pneumonia a few years ago, and his mother had moved back to Korea and remarried. You nodded and asked him why he stayed. He shrugged as he pushed his rice around his plate.

    "Want to see something?" he asked with a shy smile, as he dried his hands from washing a final dish.

You nodded, smiling when he took your hand to lead you out of the kitchen door and into the yard at the side of the little house. Ice plant and poppies sprang up among the rocks and sandy dirt, disrupted by a cobbled path leading to a periwinkle blue shed only half as large as the house behind you. Yoongi opened the door.

Inside was warm and the air aglow with little floating specks that caught the light, which you quickly realized, as you glanced around, were flecks of saw dust. It was a workshop. In reverent awe you took in the beautiful pieces crafted from oak, walnut, pine, and redwood. There was a bench, a coffee table, a mirror frame, cutting boards, a spice rack. In and amongst the tools and work surfaces, there were handmade treasures against the walls and stacked on shelves. You took a seat in a sanded-down rocking chair.

    "You made all this?" You asked in disbelief.

Yoongi shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats, casting proud but bashful eyes over the room.

    "I make them to order. Although, you did find the one thing in here that I started for myself."

You felt warmth fill your chest because you thought he looked a little proud. You swayed in the chair, tucking your legs up under you.

    "It's beautiful, Yoongi. All of it. You're incredibly talented."

    "You started it, you know," he said with a smile, still not meeting your eyes. You cocked your head to the side in question. "You gave me that whittling kit for my birthday."

He shuffled over to a workbench and took a small object in his hand. He approached you, holding it out, and you took it. You turned the little curved knife over in your hands, brushing your thumb over the faded little heart inscribed in pink paint. 

    "You wanted me to have something to do with my hands, so I would stop biting my nails," he replied, taking the knife back from you and regarding it with warm eyes as he set it aside.

    "You remember that?" You let out a laugh.

    "I remember everything," he said.

He said it like an oath...one you had once sworn. He was looking down at you, and suddenly you were on a little ledge under the stars, and he was pulling you into a kiss, and making love to you, and telling you to run and not look back. Yoongi, your Yoongi. You breathed his name, and he reached for your hands, pulling you up and against him as his lips found yours. He kissed you tenderly and fiercely. He kissed you all the way back to his bedroom where he laid you down in the soft white cotton and made up for lost time. 

    The sun made its way over hill and down into the western waters, and all the while you stayed wrapped in the sanctuary of each others' bodies, only leaving his bed twice - once to shower together and another time to share a bowl of bibim guksu and some tangerines from the tree in the yard. Now the moon's waning crescent peeped through the curtains to see you laying tangled in Yoongi's arms, his forehead pressed to yours, as he asked a question to which he didn't want the answer.

    "When are you leaving?" His voice was low and soft and deep, so resonant...but you could hear what it lacked, what he was holding back.

    "Why do I have to leave?" You murmured, tracing a place over his chest where your lips had once left a bruise.

The skin had healed long since, but not what laid beneath. Yoongi sighed through his nose, his breath tickling your chin and chest.

    "What does this place hold for you?" he asked, his voice strained, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw as his thumb brushed over your chin. "Just pain and sadness. You got out of here, you're free."

A tear slipped over the bridge of your nose and onto the pillow.

    "I might have left, but my heart never did," you whispered, your voice shaking as years of never forgetting filled the expanse of your chest. "And it never will," you murmured through a little sob.

You pushed yourself back so that you could see his beautiful watery brown eyes and wet cheeks as you asked him a question to which you already knew the answer.

    "Why didn't you leave?" Another tear slipped down his face as he looked at you. "Why, Yoongi? Why didn't you leave? Tell me, Yoongi. Say it. Why didn't you l-"

    His mouth was on yours, and he kissed you back into the sheets as your tears mingled. He kissed you and he kissed you and when his lips finally left yours by a centimeter he whispered his answer against them.

    The moon had seen him find you, and lose you. Now it saw you tell him you would never leave his side. 

    Some weeks later it sent you both off in a packed-up car (with a rocking chair strapped to the top), as it faded in the light of the rising sun, to start a new part - the best part - of the story of the boy and the girl on the cliffside...

...The part where they lived together, and in happiness, until the end of their days.

-Fin-

[quandaryqueen]

Gotham Season 1 Edward is such friend material I SWEAR-

Anyways how about a platonic!Ed with a friend who calls everyone by their full first names (Jim? No JAMES) except Ed

Love your writing and don’t forget to drink water

Nicknames

Gotham Edward Nygma X Platonic Reader

Yes! Friend material indeed!

"Have you seen Jim?"

"I have not seen James at all. I'm so sorry, Doctor Leslie."

Doctor Leslie 'Lee' Thompson furrows her brows at you. It would be her first time interacting with you in the police precinct, Jim had told her you had a knack for calling people by their complete first names and initially, she does not see anything wrong with it... Until she heard her name roll from your tongue and pass your lips. No one has ever called her Leslie, aside from her parents when she had done something wrong, even with strangers, she insisted to be called Lee. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable— well first of all, it's just her name — but it just had caught her off-guard.

"See? Told you they're a little weirdo," Harvey Bullock whispers to Lee, his eyes boring into yours for a moment before it flickers back to whatever he was looking at previously, the long overdue paperwork seated on his desk.

"Um... Which is unusual, since I always see the guy. You're telling me he's been gone for how long now?" You resumed.

Lee snaps back from her momentary nomenclature disorientation.

"Y-Yeah,"

"I'm so sorry."

"No, no— you're good. Thank you anyways." Lee exists your cubicle and was off to search for him herself.

For a moment you felt guilt linger for a moment, you could have helped her but you really have not seen James yourself. You maybe hoped to have spark some sort of impression on her, as you have never really interacted with her. You opted to brush it off and continued to work.

"Y/N!"

You jumped from your seat upon hearing Eddie's voice suddenly come up behind you. It does not help that he chose to grasp the top of your cubicle wall and stick his head in it. Perks of being tall...

"Ed! What's up?" Though a bit shaken, you smiled up at him.

"Guess what I found? So I was at an antique shop when I saw this old book about a maggots! And guess what came with it? A tape! A documentary about maggots!" He excitedly exclaims, still grasping the top of your cubicle, his expressive hands alter between gripping and curling and unfurling. "Wanna come by my place and watch it with me?"

"Are you kidding me? Hell yeah!"

"Splendid!"

"Oh and Eddie, can we buy gummy worms?"

"For immersion! Genius!"

Harvey, out of ear shot, sips from his coffee and sighs, "Weirdos."

[nkirukaj]

I Want You, Simon - Chapter 2

I’m in love with Simon Petrikov and I need more content of him, so here’s a multi-part fic.

Pairing: Simon Petrikov x Fem! OC

Warnings: implied sexual feelings?

Genre: Angst and Fluff?

Word Count: 2.07k

Chapter 1

Simon lay on his bed with the window open. He needed the cool air to keep him grounded. Vivid flashbacks of the night before were playing in his head, how warm, sweaty, and crowded the tavern was, how warm, sweaty, and tight he was. The cool air was ever perfect contrast to the reawakening of-

BANG! 

Marceline kicks open the door to his bedroom. It falls off the hinges. 

“Marceline, what the dump?”

“Sorry. It was supposed to be a joke.” 

He sits up in his bed and turns toward her. He closes the blinds to his window and she removes her hat. 

“It’s not funny,” he put his head in his hands

She floats over to him 

“What’s wrong Simon?”

“I don’t know, I just feel…wrong.”

“I’d feel wrong too! You didn’t even say hi to her last night!”

He blushes and his eyes dart towards Marceline.

“Who?”

“Samira? You ruined everything! I invited you there to see her!”

“You told me to come to see you!”

Marcy rolls her eyes “You see me everyday, you’ve never seen her!”

“This isn’t about her,” he mumbles, returning his head to his hands

Marceline purses her lips “What’s it about then?”

He sleeps his hand on his thighs “Me! I suppose? I shouldn’t have gone last night. Then I wouldn’t have felt how I did when you were performing.”

“And how did you feel?” He is red and silent. “Simon…?”

He continues to be silent “Well, when you stop feeling plumpdumps, you should get up and do something. ANYTHING.”

His head slowly rises “I could go to the library,”

“Yeah, sure you could do that. Or we could do something fun!”

He looks offended “The library is fun!”

She rolls her eyes “Okay Simon. I’ll see you later.”

She floats out of his empty doorframe “Well, at least he’s doing something,” She mumbles on her way out.

The library was a safe place. A comfort place. Simon knew that wherever he was, as long as he could find a library, then he could make it work. Walking into the library though, it felt as though something was off. He looked to his left and to his right and only found bookshelves upon shelves. Walking towards a section that usually had books on antiques and ancient artifacts he found fiction. And where there used to be fiction was cooking. He was correct, something was off. 

He approached the front desk and found Turtle Princess.

“Excuse me?”

She looked up from the books she was ordering on the cart next to her. “Yes?”

“Can you show me to where th-”

“I’m currently in the middle stacking” She cuts him off “You can ask her” she points to a woman leaning on the other side of the desk “To help you,”

Simon looks off towards the other woman “Oh alright,”

“And also,” She calls toward him and he looks back “Shhhhhh!!!!” 

After dropping the look of confusion from his face, he made his way over to the woman that Turtle Princess had pointed out. The woman wore a white turtleneck and blue jeans, a lanyard around her neck, her hair was in a bun, and when he approached she turned towards him to reveal some large square glasses. 

“Hi,” She spoke in a light tone with a low voice “Can I help you?”

“Hello, Turtle Princess said that you can help show me around?”

She stands up straight “Ah yes. There have been a few questions about that today. But I can certainly be of assistance. What exactly were you looking for?”

“I was looking for the section on artifacts and antiques?”

Her face lights up “Wonderful, I can walk you there,”

Shebegan walking past him in a quick stride, and after snapping out of the zone he was in began to follow her. For such a short woman, she walked at a breakneck pace. After turning many corners and walking down, what seemed like, many secret paths, she finally stopped in front of a tall shelf filled bottom to top with books. She pointed to the books.

“Turtle Princess wanted to get rid of these when she decided to rearrange the library because according to her ‘nobody reads them’ and they’re ‘boring’. So we made a compromise to put them all the way back here because ‘if someone really wants to read them, they’’ll find them’” She mocks Turtle Princess’s voice. Simon chuckles a bit.

“Well, thank you for your help, uhhh..” He trails off. She widens her eyes and moves her arm out to the side and exposes her name tag. “Sami?”

“Yeah! You actually said it right on the first try. That doesn’t happen very often.” She smiles “Now, do you need help picking something out? Are you like studying a specific topic?”

He shakes hsi head, “No, this subject is what I often return to for comfort.”

She nods, understanding “Okay, well do you have a certain book in mind, because if you want I can recommend one.”

Simon looks a bit shocked. He had not known anyone in Ooo interested in talking about this, let alone reading about it. 

“Do you study antiques?” he asked her

She shakes her head “No, I just wandered over her after the move and found a book that I thought was interesting. Seems to have been written Pre-Mushroom War, given that some of the pages are written as if uncertain that the artifacts, that have been found and publicized, actually exist. You know those books that you can read over and over again, and yet every single time that you do, you find something different to enjoy?” He nods eagerly. “That’s what this book is like for me,”

“Well, what is it? Can I see it?”

She nods quickly “Of course,” She suddenly drops down to the floor and Simon stares around in a confused manner before looking down at her. 

“Sit,” she says, patting the floor in front of her

Simon sits as though his bones are stiff, he groans when reaching the floor. “New suit,”

“Who wears a suit to the library?” She smiles at him.

He straightens his suit out and clears his throat. Sami turns to look behind her and practically crawls into the shelf, the top half of her body disappeared into the shelf and all Simon was able to see was her butt. He looked away sheepishly.

She comes back out holding a large dark blue book, and she hands it to him.

“I usually hide it to make sure no one can check it out if I’m reading it, because that’s the only copy we have of it in the library. Who’da thunk it right? “ 

He laughs a bit, “Yeah, right.” He looks down at the book and sees the title ‘Ancient Artifacts’ with his own name under the title. “Oh.” he says full of surprise “You like this book?”

“Oh yeah definitely. I don’t typically care for nonfiction, but this book’s author writes his words in such a way that it feels as though I’m reading a story. It’s incredible. I feel like I’m following his journey of discovering these objects and himself.”

“Wow” Simon was stunned “I’ve never heard anyone make that kind of assessment before.

She shrugs “Do you know the book?” She chuckles “Maybe you could tell me how to pronounce the authors last name? I always try but I can never get it. It makes me think of like petri dish or something.” She laughs

Simon blushes and smiles a bit “It’s pronounced Petrikov,” 

She laughs a bit more “What a silly name.”

He looks around “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“How’d you figure out how to say that anyway?”

He purses his lip “It’s my name.”

Her eyes widen and her face turns pink “So you’re-?”

“It’s my book…”

They avoid each others gaze for a few moments.

“I’m so sorry,” she clears her throat “But it really is a great book,”

“Well, you could make it up by telling me your favorite part.”

Sami perks up “Oh!” She grabs the book from his hands and flips through it “My favorite part is…. This.” She points at the chapter about the ‘Enchiridion’. “I don’t want to be a hero, but I do want to see what’s in that book. Like, it has to be something important if people went that far to hide it.”

“Well, I have a copy of it, so maybe I could..bring it here for you?” 

“You could do that, but I must say most people don’t bring books into the library.” Her tone is joking and her face is filled with mock concern. 

“Well, yes that’s true but-”

“No, I’m totally kidding. You should bring it. I love reading during my shift!”

He is slightly confused “Won’t anyone notice that you’re gone?”

She shakes her head “Turtle Princess is so lost in that cart, that if it was possible for her to lose her shell she would.”

He stifles a chuckle “She does seem enamored by that cart”

“It’s all she thinks about. And honestly, when I leave at the end of my shift I never even see her go.”

“Maybe she sleeps in the cart?” he said absentmindedly while stroking the spine of his book.

“Ha!” Sami laughs loudly, and covers her mouth to muffle the noise, but constrained snorts leak out.

Simon’s head snaps up to see Sami with her hand in front of her mouth, and a pink blush creeping up her face, which causes him to smile. He didn’t think it was that funny, but knowing that she did, he found it amusing. 

Once Sami regains her composure, she straightens herself up and speaks “Was, there anything else I can do for you today, Mr…” she pauses, trying to remember his last name.

“Petrikov,” he reminded her “And technically my title is Dr.”

She looks impressed “Oooh, Dr. Petrikov, I’m sorry. Ooh, he lt me know. Dr. Petrikov.”

Simon holds back a grin and hands his book back to her “Here, this will do you more good than it will me.” she takes the book from him and their fingers slightly brush against each other. She doesn’t seem to notice.

“Thanks, I can put it back in my hiding spot.” She smiles at him. “Now do you need anything else Dr. Petrikov?”

At this point, he can’t help but smile “No, but thank you for everything today. Including your wonderful conversation. I haven’t met someone so intelligent and funny….” his smile falls “just in a really long time.”

She notices his fallen face and her voice and tone softens “Well, if you need anymore of my incredible wit, you can just come back. Whenever you want. But don’t forget the Enchiridion. I’m watching you Dr. Petrikov” she gives him siren eyes.  

“Of course,” He nods towards her with a small smile returning to his lips “Thank you again for your help.” He takes a few minutes to stand up

She waves at him as he walks away, and he waved back as he exited the aisle, and soon the library.

Back at his house, he hung up his jacket and immediately began to look for the Enchiridion. He hadn’t seen it since he had moved from his old job/apartment, and before that the last time he had seen it was when he had been doing the ritual to summon GOL…Betty. He stopped in his tracks. 

He hadn’t thought about Betty directly since his encounter with her at the end of his multiverse jumping with Fionna and Cake, but there were always things around that reminded him of her. Yes, he was willing to accept her choices and his own, but he wasn’t certain if she would ever be able leave his brain, nor if he ever wanted to stop thinking about her. Just thinking of the Enchiridion made him fall deep into memories of when he and Betty were young and happy. In fact, in retrospect this entire day had. Met a woman in a library who was funny and smart, with cute large glasses. Was it possible to not see her in everything? Did he even want to see that book again? Did he even want to do this anymore? He shakes his head. He made a promise to a woman and the library, and he was intending to keep it. 

Sami, what a beautiful name. 

Link to Chapter 3

[gretavanbear]

The Professor - Josh Kiszka x F!Reader

{authors note :

i am so sorry i have no idea how to put 'read more's like i think i have no idea how this website works...

this is a pretty long chapter, enjoy! next chapter won't be coming out for a little bit.. gotta let it soak in (;

love, bear.}

SCREENING #3 : City Lights

You couldn’t help it, you tried fighting back the urge but there you were falling asleep to this movie. You knew it was important to the course syllabus and probably future homework but you couldn’t help it. Maybe it was because you stayed up so late thinking about him; wishing he was in your bed, doing things…

No. That’s your professor. You can’t think of him that way. 

But god he made it so easy sometimes. The way he walked into the room like if he was the boss of everyone; like he was so full of knowledge and he wanted to help the students in his classroom. Film vocabulary rolled off his tongue so easily and so sexily- it was so hard for you to focus on the course material when he looked so fucking good presenting it. No man had ever made you feel this way before, most definitely not your ex boyfriends. He was so different, you wanted to know everything, learn anything. Especially if it was taught by him. He was in your every thought ever since the first day you saw him, his looks were addicting, his voice was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He was genuinely perfect to you. You simply couldn’t get enough. 

And there you were, knocking at his office door. It was on the top floor of the building which was exciting; you had never been up here before. He opened the door with a smile. 

“Hello there” He smiled, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger. 

“Hi Joshua” You said nervously. He stepped to the side, letting you in his office. He walked over to his desk and shut his computer off softly. 

He sat in his office chair which normally faced out the window, though he had turned the chair towards you, tapping the empty chair near him- his desk pressed against the windowsill. His office was clean and organized, a few posters hung up on the walls and a plant near the window on his dark brown desk. He had a large bookshelf full of pretty coloured books, they looked antique and worn out. 

“What can I do for ya?” He smiled as you sat down next to him. You nervously pulled out your computer and placed it on his desk hesitantly. He nodded out of reassurance and watched you type in your password; then opening your draft of the essay due in a week. 

“I was wondering if you could look over this essay for me? I know it’s due in a week so I just wanted to make sure it was okay so far..” You nervously asked and he smiled, turning your computer towards his body so he can read better. 

“Gladly.” he spoke, fixing his glasses and leaning in to read the screen better. You examined him and the way he read your words so carefully. The way his chocolate orbs scanned the screen, the way his index and middle finger caressed the trackpad of your laptop. The veins in his hands made squeeze your thighs together; the way he looked so soft yet so masculine at the same time. He wore a black hoodie with some dark brown loose pants, he somehow always looked so comfortable, so at ease with everything. 

You thought about the first day you ever saw him; how comfortable he looked in front of everyone in class and how he never seemed nervous. You liked that about him. Maybe you were completely zoned out whilst staring at his hands because he said your name a slightly louder, wanting to catch your attention. Your eyes darted from his hands to his eyes, your cheeks burning up in the process. 

“Your essay is great so far! I don’t know why you’re worried, you’re an amazing writer. I’d just change a few tiny little details” He smiled, before grabbing the arm of your chair and pulling you closer so you both can look at your laptop. He was so fucking close; his arm rubbing against yours as he moved the computer in your direction. He explained the parts he’d change and the details he’d add but all you could focus on was his pink lips, the way they looked so soft, kissable, biteable. 

“Actually, I was thinking of having a little dinner party for my smartest and most participating students in my class. Would you be interested to come? It would be this friday evening. I have this whole little idea planned. Dinner and a screening or two and we can discuss the movies after” He asked hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm as he turned to face you. 

“I’d love to go” You squeaked out, unable to comprehend what was happening, because his hand was on your shoulder as he smiled big at your response. The air in his office felt thin, sucked out of the room, because he was so close. His gaze softened and his smile faded softly as his eyes stared deeply into yours, slowly falling to your lips as he got closer to you. You could tell he wanted to say something, with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and his thumb caressing your shoulder softly. 

“You’re so beautiful, like a porcelain doll. I’m afraid to break you if I’m not gentle with you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and the way he spoke so softly made your heart flutter in between palpitations. God… he was so close.. His face inches from yours, getting closer and closer. 

Time felt frozen as he placed his lips on yours, the warmth made your heartbeat race. Soft just like you’d imagine. He kissed you like you were about to break, with such a gentle touch and passion, yet so fucking hungry. Almost as if he needed you for weeks, maybe the same way you needed him all this time. 

His hands cupped your cheeks and his fingers interlocked with your hair as he kissed you harder, needing to taste you, needing you all over him. Fuck, he was so sexy. He groaned softly as you bit his bottom lip, his breath shaky as you reached for his shoulders. 

There was this magnetic pull that brought you to his lap, climbing over him and straddling him; his lips not leaving yours. Not even for a second. Your arms wrapped around the back of his head and you intertwined your fingers with his soft curls, pulling on them a little bit which made him moan quietly between kisses. His hands left your hair and traveled down your back, lower… lower….

Until there was a knock at his door. You both pulled away in shock and he shifted in his chair quickly; biting his bottom lip as his fingers traced over where your lips were just a couple seconds ago. His brown eyes scanned you, your flushed face, your rising chest as your breathing was heavy and unsynchronized. You opened your mouth and tried to speak, catching your breath. 

“I’m so so-”

Your words were interrupted by the sound of knocking once again. He stood up, reaching for you but you grabbed your computer quickly and left his office, the student outside the office giving you a confused look as you rushed out.

You laid in bed, chewing your fingernails in a panic as your mind raced over the past events. What the fuck did I do. Repeated itself in your head as your mind replayed the feeling of his lips against yours. You felt a rush of heat in your core, too embarrassed to admit it to yourself but you were turned on, bad. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you turned on your computer and your essay flashed you for a split second; the brightness hurting your teared up eyes. As you moved your cursor to exit the window, it dragged in front of words you hadn’t typed. 

It was an address. His address. Fuck. He mentioned a dinner party. You breathed heavily, taking deep breaths to try and calm yourself down. You didn’t know what to do, feeling so lost in your thoughts until a notification from your computer brings you back to life. It was an email. 

Joshua M. Kiszka, PHD. : Good evening, I’m incredibly sorry for my actions, they were not right. If you feel the need to communicate this with the student protection program, I understand. 5:34pm

You: No, it’s okay. 5:48pm

You but your bottom lip typing this, how do you tell him you liked it? You wanted more, you wanted all of him. Your mind traced back to the feeling of his lips on yours, your index finger tracing the soft skin on your face as you reminisced the feeling. You closed your eyes for a second and pictured the two of you kissing; so wrapped up in each other and the feeling of your bodies touching so close. 

You: I would still like to come to the dinner party, if you are comfortable with that. 6:04pm

Bingo. 

That evening you decided to go on a walk to clear your head. All you could think about was the way his lips felt, the smell of his cologne, the feeling of his hands all over your body. You figured fresh air would help you clear your head even though deep down you knew it probably wouldn’t help.

You walked around campus with music playing loudly in your ears, the sound of “Entombed” by Deftones calmed you a little as you watched the lamposts illuminate the calm dark streets of your campus. It was a little cold outside but you were glad to have put a jacket on before leaving your dorm room. You didn’t focus on much of what was in front of you, passing by Josh’s office building without realizing it, your eyes were zoned out as you focused on the ground in front of you. 

To your surprise you felt a hand on your shoulder which made you yelp and whip your head back, pulling out an earphone aggressively before meeting your eyes with Josh’s. The sight making your heart jump and skip a couple beats. He breathed out your name, with a breathy smile as if he had just ran to catch up with you. 

“Hi Josh.” You smiled, pulling out your phone to press pause on the song you were listening to. 

“Hi. What are you doing out at this hour?” He asked.

“I just took a small walk.. Clear my head.. Got that essay to finish” you chuckled, trying to get rid of the awkward silence that sat between the two of you. He gave you a soft smile and nodded slowly- taking in your every word. 

“Let me walk you back to your dorm. Please, it’s the least I could do” He obliged and you nodded, letting him walk with you back to your dorm. You had walked quite a bit which made your walk about 8 minutes until you reached your dorm building. 

“Listen.. I need to apologize again” Josh sighed, stopping you hesitantly, placing his hand on your shoulder. He led you to a small alley between two classroom buildings a couple steps away. You rested your back on the brick wall and looked up at him, biting your bottom lip nervously.

“I don’t even know what to say.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease his nerves. He let out a soft chuckle to fill the awkward silence, trying to think of what to say. But all you could focus on was how close he stood near you, like if you put your hand out you’d be able to grab him by the collar and pull him close.

And so you did. 

He gasped quietly at the action and wasted no time to place his lips on yours once again; his hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed you deeply and passionately, pulling you closer to him and all you could feel was his body on yours, so close and soft. You felt his hands slide lower under your ass, pulling your thighs up so your legs around his waist, and he pushed himself against you so your back was pressed against the wall even more, his body holding you up. 

“Fuck.. Doll.. This is so wrong..” He pulled away, breathless. Chuckling a little once again as he looked into your eyes. 

“I don’t care..” You sighed, your hands making their way back to his curls, playing with them a little as he tried to form a sentence. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this.. You’re my student..” He sighed, but you couldn’t help but feel his hard on pressing against your thigh, causing you to smirk. 

“Yeah..” You replied, before leaning in and kissing him once again, and he kissed back instantly. He bit your bottom lip and thrusted his hips forward for a bit of friction, anything to relieve him from how hard you were making him. You could hear him groan softly as he bit your bottom lip, his hands cupping your ass and squeezing it just how you like. His lips were so soft and warm, so comforting yet sexy and it was all so overwhelming yet just enough. He was just enough, just perfect. The way his body felt against yours was like the missing puzzle piece. A piece you were missing and needing so very badly. You pulled away to catch your breath, your clothes beginning to smell like his cologne. He let go of your ass and let you down gently, your feet hitting the ground softly. 

“We should stop..” You breathed out, looking up at him. You didn’t want to… you didn’t want to stop. Not one bit. But he was your professor. And you were his student. It was wrong. But it felt so fucking good. It was forbidden… and it felt so good. He was your forbidden fruit, the poison you couldn’t tear yourself away from. You wanted him, all of him, and you weren’t supposed to. 

“You’re right. Yes..” He sighed, adjusting his glasses with his middle finger. “Let me walk you home.” He cleared his throat, adjusting his shirt by pulling it down a bit. Your eyes caught a glimpse of his hard-on through his pants which made your clit twitch, but you ignored it. Must stay professional…

You pushed yourself off the wall as he took a couple steps, his breath ragged and shaky as he tried adjusting himself. He was so fucking hard for you, his cock twitching repeatedly in his pants as his mind raced. He thought about his hips pressed against yours just a couple seconds ago. His lips on yours, the feeling still on his skin. 

As the two of you reached your dorm room, Josh fought back every muscle in his body to pick you up and kiss you once again. 

“We can’t do that ever again” He sighed, biting his bottom lip nervously. God, he wanted to. He wanted you. 

“I know…” You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob. “Goodnight Joshua. See you friday.” 

He replied with a soft “Goodnight, doll.” 

[taglist : @joshsbadussy @alyson814 @ageoffleet @Ashabeannn @schleeble @kennygvf @brokenbe11s  @gretavansteph @l0vep0ti0ns @welllauragvf @misshunnybee @succeedingsigns @myfavfics01 @whorefourjakekiszka @not-a-hypochondriac @myleftsock @leedleleedlelee003 @beth-gvf @jordie-gvf @joshkiszkas @oksydneyy @weightofstar @flo-gvf @myownparadise96 @indigokiszka @spark-my-nature @stardustofman @malany-gvf @carbonwrittingthroughtime @groupiegirlie08 @fwzco @nicoleghost18 @andromeda-raine-gvf @sarrrahhh @ren-ni @otherworldlyautumn @Timeless—classics @zoe-tally06 @hellowgoodbye @aminaalilyy @joshpaperscissors @dammittjanet @enchante-em ]

[bellafragolina]

Before time runs out, could I request a bit with the submas twins where let's say they're having a rough day. However, to their surprise, their crush gives them a little gift to cheer them up. I had the idea that they made them their favorite food but you can do something else if you'd like. I just like seeing them happy. Also I love your writings and I hope you have a great day!!

awww, this is super cute <3 you're gonna render these boys on their knees with how down bad they are

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

Any job that involves the public comes with its downsides, that being people who seem to think the station runs for them and only them. Ingo is aware of these people, how they're seemingly endless in the sea of kind passengers. He doesn't get them often, but today they seem to be having a convention. Ingo's been shouted at, insulted, and nearly smacked too many times to count, and it's not even lunch

Exhaustion weighs heavy on him as he walks towards his office to take a break, do some paperwork, be away from people for a while. Then he hears his name, called by a voice that sweeps away the stress like a soft current. Ingo brightens up, seeing you appear through the crowd. You wave at him, smiling, and his heart skips a beat.

You have something for him. Out of your bag it comes, with you rambling about seeing it at an antiques shop. Ingo is floored to have the delicate, metal model train placed into his hands. He recognizes it instantly, knowing the model and such off the top of his head. And you bought it for ten bucks? Incredible! It's gorgeous.

Ingo is so overwhelmed, he doesn't know what to do. He hands tremble around the precious gift you've given him, and he fears dropping it. But he doesn't, not even as he throws his arms around you. His thanks pours out of his mouth, endless rambling about the train and how grateful he is you got it for him. You hold him, laughing.

Ingo forgets he was even having a bad day, carefully rolling his new train about his desk. This one is his, and his only, because you gave it to him. Emmet isn't allowed to touch it, which he whines to you about.

Emmet:

Emmet is sick and tired of this. The worst part of his job always occurs during the holidays. Increased traffic means increased wear on his trains, and then one is bound to break down. And people come to him, shouting, like he's capable of pulling a train out of his ass. He's ready to riot, and Ingo must know it, for he sends Emmet back to the office to calm down from the stress

His stride is fast and unwavering. People jump out of his way not to be mowed down, everyone except for one person who jumps in his way. Emmet is nearly ready to throw down when he notices it's you. You, whom he scoops into his arms for a desperately needed hug. You chuckle, rubbing his back as you sing a greeting, and Emmet already feels better.

But! You didn't come just for a hug. With a flourish, you present a box to Emmet. Reading the front, he nearly rockets through the ceiling. A kit! To build a train!! And you want to build it with him?? Really? You and him building a train set together?? He must be dreaming, he must've fainted earlier, for this can't be true.

Emmet stammers and stutters out his thanks, shaking violently with his excitement. He doesn't hesitate grabbing your hand and dragging you to the office with him. He's on break! So you're building this train now. And it's going to be great, because you're helping him, and he's able to sit close to you as you work

God, he's in love with you. Ingo is going to be so jealous once he finds you both on the floor, grinning at the finished product

🍓🍓🍓

cutie boys deserve the world. and you can't tell me working in that station isn't hellish sometimes

have a good night, lovely!

~Renee

[stuckonmain]

Midnight Comics (And other fun things/s)

ROTTMNT Donatello x Yokai!reader

A loose part two to The Junkyard at the End of the World

Part three is here

Part four is here

Part five is here

This takes place in the bad timeline, a bit after the Krang invasion. There's mentions of blood and light angst. Reader is forced to read comics.

3k words

***

  I sat cross-legged on top of my office desk, struggling with the campus’s laser cutter.

  Donatello sat across the room, perched on a spinny chair as he messed around with chemicals from April’s school. The glowing blue substance had apparently been found to permanently damage the Krang’s organic matter, and Donnie was running tests while April led a party out to get more.

  I was doing something far less noble- trying to laser-cut gears out of acrylic for my lamp design.

  I had set the base a few feet away from me. It was an old lamp from the 1920s that I took from an antique store a few weeks into the apocalypse, and if my Donnie-approved blueprints worked as planned, I’d be able to turn it on and off with a series of gears, like a tiny Rube Goldberg Machine….Also known as a normal manual machine.

  There was a crackle of electricity, and I followed the sound to the comm-link I had left on the ground.

  “Commanders present in the base, come in.” Said Leo’s voice over my comm-link.

  “What is it, ‘Nardo? I’m on the brink of something important, so this had better be good.” Donnie scowled, speaking into his wrist panel.

  “Actually, both ‘Tello and I probably need a break. We’ll be there in a sec.” I interrupted, leaning over Donnie’s shoulder to speak into his comm-link.

  “Rad.” Leo answered, and disconnected.

  Donnie shoved me off his shoulder, eyes wide. “What’re you talking about? We don’t need a break, we need to focus!”

  I held my hands up innocently. “Forgive me, but you were working on this when I went to bed last night. And unless you have proof over the security cameras of you leaving to take a break between when I left last night and when I returned this morning, then…you need a break.”

  He rolled his eyes. “(Y/N), thus is the life of a brilliant scientist!”

  “Your left eyebrow is mostly wiped off.” I said, flicking his forehead. “Besides, we’re going to a meeting. That’s still kind of work.”

  He flicked me back. “No, no, you go, fill me in later.”

  I sighed, shaking my head in resignation. “Leonardo is gonna be mad…”

  “...Hm...He’ll manage.” Donnie answered, grabbing a sharpie and a hand mirror to re-draw his smudged eyebrow.

  I frowned, crossing my arms. “What if the meeting is important? What if, uh…they found some kinda….Krang infection antidote…. or something?” 

  He spun around in his chair, eyebrow back in place. “Highly unlikely. But just in case…fine. I’ll go if it gets you off my back.”

  “Good.” I sighed. “Finally.”

***

  “Oh. You just called us up for comics.” I said disdainfully as Leo proudly showed us what he’d found.

  “Just comics?!” He gasped, shoving me closer to the stack of Jupiter Jim comic books he’d found on a scouting mission.

  “Uh…yeah?” I said weakly, looking at the dusty pile. “I mean…I love Jupiter Jim as much as anyone with mediocre taste in sci-fi, but was this…really worthy of a meeting?”

  Mikey was the one who gasped this time, grabbing my shoulders in shock. “Is this worthy of a meeting?! Who raised you?!”

  “Uh…” I shoved Mikey off of me. “Please don’t do that, and uh…yeah no, I thought this would be…important-er? More important?”

  “GASP!” Said…Donnie? (What hath the world become?!) “I’m not usually one for feeling emotions, but ohmigosh!” He exclaimed, running towards the stack in excitement.

  “...Huh, I didn’t know your face was capable of expressions beyond mild amusement. What’re you doin’ with your mouth, ‘Tello? I hardly recognize you.” I teased, but he barely reacted.

  …Huh.

  “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me boys. Tell me…what exactly is so great about these comics?” I sighed, sitting down next to Leo as he aggressively jotted his name down in each of the ‘this book belongs to’ pages. It was almost impressive.

  Leo grinned. “Oh, you’re at the right place, (L/N). These babies have so much secret lore in ‘em, it’ll knock your socks off.”

  I looked down at my clawed feet. “I can’t wear socks.”

  “See? You’re already witnessing the effects!”

  “I’ve never worn socks. Or shoes, for that matter.”

  Leo’s grin didn’t waver. “Neither have we!”   

  I sighed, and picked up a comic book. “Jupiter Jim versus Saturn Steve…part forty-four. Wow. I am truly taken aback by this…work of art.”

  Donnie grinned, clearly missing the sarcasm. “Oh, you think that trash is good? Wait ‘till you read my favorite- and by far the best and greatest part of the franchise- Atomic Lass!”

  I nodded half heartedly. “Um…great?”

  He shoved the book into my hands, grinning. “You’ll love it.”

  I smiled weakly. “Uh…okay! Rad.”

***

  They were right.

  Ohmigosh, they were so right. 

  These stupid comics were freaking brilliant and I was maybe a bit in love with Atomic Lass. I hungrily flipped to the next page as the stack of already read comics grew ever higher…I was finally onto the fifty-ninth and second-to-last installment of The Atomic Trilogy, and I wasn’t ready for it to be over- oh wait I just finished the last page, shit.

  I sat in silence for a minute, and checked the clock.

  It was midnight. I’d been reading comics for the past four hours. Goddamnit. Luckily there was only one more book in the series, I noted as I reached for the stack of unread books.

  Wait what? 

  I tried to reach for it again, only to find that it was…gone?

  A chill settled in my bones as I realized the inevitable. I’d never had the final book.

  …Donnie probably has it?

  No, don’t bother him, it’s midnight.

  Actually, he’s probably awake. I vote we bother him.

  I smirked and stood up, slipping out the door as silently as I could as I headed down the hallway towards the Engineering Building.

  It was nice out on the campus when people were asleep, I noted. Obviously there were still a few people awake, that was inevitable what with the sheer amount of people, but still. It was…peaceful. I was almost tempted to sing, but I resisted the urge for fear of waking someone up or being seen singing my heart out in solitude.

  (I was really tempted to, though. It’d be perfect for my ‘being a real-life Disney princess’ checklist.)

  I shoved open the door and stepped outside of Huo Hall, my dorm, and into the midsummer night air. What had once smelled of vague thoughts, falling stars, and foggy dream-like movements had been burned into the rotten stench of the world falling apart around us like everything else the Krang had destroyed.

  It was moments like these that I was reminded of what I was perpetually trying to forget, and my Disney movie shifted and warped into a Shakespearian tragedy. Suddenly my throat wasn’t bursting with a rhapsody about the stars and the sky, but a requiem of lost hope and fallen dreams and fear of the future and I wanted to cry-

  I sighed, taking a final glance at the smog-filled sky before ducking into the Engineering Building.

  I was lucky, I told myself. I was surviving. That was more than most people could say. I had survived this long, and a few bouts of hopelessness weren’t gonna get in my way of locating the sixtith chapter of The Atomic Trilogy, building a rad lamp with my brand-new friend, and saving humanity.

  So I forced a smile that slowly shifted into a genuine smile as I neared the Lab.

  I grabbed a few drinks from the vending machine and knocked on the door.

  No one answered, but I saw purple lights flashing from under the door.

  “Donnie?” I called, knocking again. “Donatel-lo! Open up dude, I wanna fangirl about Atomic Lass!”

  Still no answer. I frowned and shoved the door open.

  He was passed out on his desk, wrapped in a purple hoodie. …Hm. I…should probably not bother him…sigh. 

  I shook my head and turned to leave, but paused first as I noticed the thermostat. 50 degrees fahrenheit..It was cold in here, and he was a reptile…that means he’s cold-blooded, which means he’s probably freezing, right?

  I shook my head, and against my better judgement, I tossed a blanket over his shoulders. It probably wouldn’t make much of a difference, but hey, I was gonna do my part at keeping my new lab partner from turning into a turtle–sicle. 

  And with a moment of hesitation, I reluctantly decided to leave him one of the vending machine iced teas. Maybe it would just encourage him further to not leave the shared lab, but well…it just seemed…like a nice gesture, I guess.

  I sighed, audibly this time. “You, sir, owe me an iced tea.” And with a final eyeroll at my failed quest, I slunk back outside towards Huo Hall.

***

  Donnie cracked his eyes open at the distant click of…footsteps. (Y/N) footsteps, judging by the sound of claws on linoleum. His heart sank a bit- he wasn’t in the mood for interaction, especially not if he was just gonna get told off for ‘not taking care of himself and blah-blah-blah…’

  But no, the footsteps had faded? And there was a blanket around his shoulders… 

  He slowly sat up, and glanced at his desk to see a bottle of tea and a threatening text message.

  Jerk-face dragon: Hey, what the HELL did you do with chapter sixty??? I am going to HUNT YOU DOWN if you don’t surrender it soon.

  Jerk-face dragon: Also u owe me a drink (kidding, it’s free lol)

  He smiled, shaking his head. He’d respond later…

  Oh wait, (Y/N) didn’t have the final chapter of The Atomic Trilogy?!

  You: What did you DO WITH THAT COMIC?! I lent you all of them, you had BETTER not have lost it.

  Jerk-face dragon: WAIT YOU DONT HAVE IT???

  You: ‘Don’t’. Don’t forget the apostrophe. 

  Jerk-face dragon: Oh piss off with that, we’re in the midst of something important!! I NEED to know what happens next!!

  You: Well then you shouldn’t have lost my comic!!

  Jerk-face dragon: How are you italicizing words in text??

  You: I’m using my own tech. I can italicize words because I designed the software.

  Jerk-face dragon: …Oh that’s actually sick

  You: How is that ‘sick’??

  Jerk-face dragon: *Cool. Sick as in cool lol

  You: Oh

  You: Also WHERE’S MY COMIC?!

  Jerk-face dragon: I wish it were the good old days when you could just pirate comics :(

  You: Well it isn’t, and you owe me my comic.

  Jerk-face dragon: i don’t freaking have your comic.

  You: Scoff.

  Jerk-face dragon: Oh yeah?! Well scoff right back at you, grape-boy!

  Oh. Because of the whole…purple thing. What a weak comeback. 

  You: that isn’t even clever.

  Jerk-face dragon: ‘That’. Capitalization is important.

  You: Hypocrite

  Jerk-face dragon: Likewise.

  Donnie sighed, opening the bottle of tea. He would definitely be needing the caffeination if he planned on  staying up longer… Oh. He reached for his phone.

  You: Thanks for the sustenance. It is, perhaps, less refined than flavorless juice, but I appreciate the caffeine. 

  Jerk-face dragon: No problem lol

  Jerk-face dragon: Also you should get some sleep you nerd

  You: Hypocrite.

  Jerk-face dragon: Okay, okay, fine :( 

***

  I sighed and turned off my phone, stretching out on my bed to the best of my ability. It was a tiny twin-sized bed, and if I stretched my claws out, they scraped the baseboard. Not only that, but there was only about a foot or two of floorspace beyond the bed. 

  I scowled, picturing the days when I first sealed the campus- It was just six months ago that the invasion happened, and three months ago that I had my nice bedroom. I sighed dreamily, picturing my old room- It was the fanciest suite on campus, clearly made for some rich famous fool who was probably devoured by the Krang.

  I had unfortunately given it up for Splinter. 

  He deserved it, and I didn’t regret it, but I was still kinda salty about past (Y/N)’s empathetic-and-in-the-moment-decisions…

  My comm-link blared.

  I panicked, trying to reach for it and getting tangled in my blankets-

  “(Y/N), Miky, Donnie, come in! Come in now!” Leo yelled over the speaker.

  “Standing by, sir!” I yelped.

  “Oh, you’re calling me sir now? I could get used to that- okay but seriously you guys, meet me in the med bay now!” 

  “Yessir- er, yes Leonardo!” I squeaked.

  “What’s going on?” Said Donnie’s monotonous drawl, quickly switching to a more panicked sound as he spat the next part. “The MED BAY?!”

  “On my way, ‘Nardo!” Yelled Mikey.

  I ran out into the hall, tripping over my claws as I tried to sprint faster. I busted through the doors of Huo Hall, barely registering the sound of Mikey behind me, and darted across the courtyard toward the designated Imfirmery. 

  A cold dread washed over me as Mikey and I approached the building, making nervous eye contact.

  “You don’t think it’s April’s chemical-recovery party….right?” I said quietly.

  Mikey shrugged, sweat dripping down his brow. “I hope not…”

  “I don’t think there were any- huh-any other parties out today, so unless someone’s sick…” Said Donnie between breaths as he caught up with us.

  I swallowed and shoved the door open.

  “Guys!” April exclaimed, pulling the two turtles into a hug. “Oh god, guys…Cass got hurt, we tried to fight it off but she’s losing blood and-”

  Donnie and Mikey hugged her back, murmuring things about something-

  I maneuvered past them towards Leo, Splinter, Raph, and the mangled body of Cassandra Jones.

  “Oh my god….” I whispered, eyes trailing over the mess of bloody gashes all over her. “What happened? Where’s the rest of the party?!”

  “The Krang zombies…” She groaned, voice cracking. “Infected…they know we’re here…”

  “Oh shit oh shit oh shit- is she infected?” I exclaimed, examining her wounds. “Fuck where’s her pulse…”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know-” Leo said, setting her down on the infirmary bed.

  I took a shallow breath. Okay, okay, blue protocol. Cool cool cool, cool cool cool. I closed my eyes and sorted through the hydrogen and oxygen in the room, combining them into cool water.

  “Donnie, go get the alcohol. The medical alcohol.” I ordered, floating the water towards a towel. I caught it in the towel and went to work at cleaning the cuts as best as I could, and Donnie returned a second later with the medical alcohol.

  “Okay, okay, okay, okay-” I said in one breath, running a trembling hand through my hair, “Uh…uh…do we have any doctors onsite? Uhm-”

  Leo frowned. “Raph, Mikey, Splinter, go find a doctor. April, clean her wounds with the alcohol.”

  I nodded. “Leo, find the medical supplies and set them on the table. Donnie- you’ve got your metal arms on, right?”

  “Duh.”

  “Cool cool, you’re coming with me.” I ordered, turning towards Huo Hall. “We’ve gotta find my mom’s spells.”

  He frowned, following me. “I don’t know. ‘Magic’ and ‘Donnie’ don’t always get along.”

  “Well lucky you, you’re just a glorified purse right now, grape-boy.” I spat, picking up my pace as I broke out into the night air. He scowled but kept following me.

  “That still isn’t clever,” He said helpfully. “And my battle shell is an amazing piece of tech, far beyond your primitive ‘purse’-”

  “Well y’know what bud?” I snapped, clenching my fists. “I’m not in the mood for clever witty one liners. I’m tense. This is tense, and I’m scared. Cass is a human, and I barely know what to do- I just vaguely remember how I used to heal stray cats a lifetime ago! And did you hear her?! They know we’re here and if they catch us, we’re dead, and a hundred humans that trust us are dead, and we need my mom’s magic that I barely know how to use!”

  Donnie didn’t reply immediately, though his stupid sharpie eyebrows furrowed.

  “Maybe you’re less like Leo than I thought.” He said finally. “Look, I’m not good with this whole…’feelings’ biz.” He did air quotes, “But if it makes you feel better or something, we can fly there and back. It’s faster.”

  I sighed, the tension slowly lessening as I got more oxygen into my lungs. “It’s okay.” I finally sighed, shoving open the door to Huo Hall. “We’re already practically there…but the gesture is appreciated, ‘Tello. Really.”

  He nodded wordlessly, and we dove into the dorms.

  I practically broke my door down as we reached it, and pulled out all the boxes out from under the bed.

  “Ha. Whaddaya know, it’s The Atomic Trilogy chapter sixty!” Said Donnie’s voice from the head of my bed.

  I shot him a glare, and he coughed. “See, I was right. You did lose it.”

  “Segue- Here.” I said, handing his metal arms the bigger box and his organic arms one of the smaller boxes. “I don’t know which ones we’ll need, so I’m just gonna bring all three.”

  He nodded. “But for the record, (Y/N), I’m not a purse. I’m a per-son. And my advanced tech would prefer if you kept that in mind.”

  I scoffed. “Sure. Whatever.”  

  By the time we returned to the Med Bay, Raph Splinter and Mikey had found a human doctor who tended to Cassandra while April hovered over her in a panic.

  “Okay.” I sighed, setting down my box. “April. Cass said that the Krang know we’re here- I assume that that’s accurate.”

  April nodded, swallowing thickly.

  “Theoretically, they shouldn’t be able to get through the current shields so long as these scrolls are intact.” I swallowed, and fidgeted with my sleeve. “But theoretically isn’t really enough right now…back to you, Leon.”

  Leo nodded, a nervous yet hollow look in his eyes as he assessed the situation. It was almost scary how it was so similar and yet so different from how he’d looked this afternoon, and for a second I was reminded yet again of the fact that he was just as much of a confused kid as I was. 

  Damn. He was the same age as me, yet he was our leader…

  And I thought the scariest part of this year would be keeping a solid GPA, not stressing about our dwindling population. I couldn’t imagine how it all must be for Leo.

  “Okay. Don-Tron, you make some kind of…I don’t know, tech-y safe to lock the scrolls into. Mikey, you’re the best magic-user here, so start reading those scrolls as if they’re limited edition Jupiter Jim comics, ‘kay?”

  Donnie and Mikey nodded, getting to work.

  “Everyone else…” He sighed. “You guys can get to bed. The patrol is patrolling and the magic seems to be intact. Maybe read some of the comics we got today or something.” He shrugged, attempting an only sort-of convincing smile.

  I nodded, body suddenly overcome with fatigue as red sunlight glinted through the windows.

  T’was bedtime.

***