i might try scanning again but this is good enough for now

instant gratification 02 (m)

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

➾11.6k words
➾ lots of smut, some fluff, a little angst (just like this gif)
➾ warnings: pregnancy mention
➾ summary: the rules of becoming fuck buddies are as follows: no strings attached, don’t play jealousy games, and strictly no cuddling after sex. On a scale of how-fucked-are-you from one to ten, Jeon Jeongguk has you on a 9, in more ways than one.


Jeon Jeongguk, on top of being the nastiest fuckboy who just happens to have some good dick, is a childish brat. 

Parties are so not your thing, and you feel like a fish out of water in the midst of so many scantily clad girls and barely sober frat boys. You’ve been grabbed at least 5 times now, only managing to narrowly escape their clutches the last time, and you have to fight to keep your patience as you try and spot his big head in the overcrowded frat house. You wouldn’t be here if not for his not so thinly veiled threat over text.

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Good Girls Go Bad

Set in the 40’s. Y/N was your stereotypical girl next door, growing up in the apartment right across the hall from James Buchanan Barnes. She had always been the shy, reserved girl; she was the complete opposite of the enigmatic ladies man. Despite their proximity, she was sure that he didn’t even know she existed. What happens when they run into one another during a night out on the town? Is just one night all it really takes? 

Word Count: 3,408

Warnings: swearing, smut


Originally posted by evanstansource


You sighed, adjusting your dress as you gazed into the mirror. Even though it was still rather conservative, you couldn’t help but notice that it was more revealing than you were used to. The neckline plunged rather low, the collar fastened with a bow that drew attention to your cleavage. The waist was cinched, showing off your figure. Paired with the red heels that your friends had chosen for you, you were looking like a regular bombshell. Your friends had insisted that you go out with them tonight. You had turned them down too many times. They said that now, of all days, you had to accompany them. The newest army recruits would be shipping out tomorrow, and it was sure to be a lively night.

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Countdown

BACK WITH ANOTHER ONE-SHOT!!! I told you guys I’d have some canonverse klangst, so here it is! Longer than my usual one-shots, and while I don’t want to give a vague summary… there’s a bomb involved. So. Yeah, that’s a thing.

This one is actually inspired by this absolutely gorgeous, angsty art/mini-comic by @littlecofiegirl who is an amazing artist that you should definitely check out!!

I saw this comic on my dash and I loved it so much that I was immediately inclined to write for it? Anyway, here it is! I hope you enjoy!


The plan had been going flawlessly.

Key word being had.

Shiro and Lance were both searching opposite sides of the base for their captured teammate, and Pidge and Hunk were too occupied giving Shiro directions through the maze-like corridors that they neglected to warn Lance of the approaching Galra heat signature.

A cat blocked his path in the hall, staring at him with large, yellow eyes. It didn’t move to attack, but it also didn’t run away.

“Um… guys?” Lance tried over the coms, lowering his gun just a bit. He wasn’t about to shoot a cat, but he still wanted to be on guard.

He didn’t hear the Galra behind him until her hand was on his shoulder.

That was mistake number one.

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Inspired by THIS POST about gay Disney Princesses. 


When the old beggar comes to the door, Addy knows better than to let her in. She doesn’t look at the rose or the woman too long; she shuts the door.

Some will call her arrogant or selfish, but what is she to do? No guards, parents in the capital (not, here, not here), and the knowledge that she is the damsel in all those fairy tales weighs heavily on her mind. Oh, little princess, far from home and alone, so alone.

The Enchantress (for they do not call her witch) makes sure that she stays that way.

Alone except for her wilting rose.

(She did not want it, would not take it, so she was bound to it. Such is the way of Princesses.)

———————————-

Addy used to have frightful bursts of temper. Her face would turn red, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, mouth screwed into an upside down kidney bean. Anything could set her off; a too tight corset, a walk ended too quickly, another toy sword taken away. She’d wail and scream, kick her feet and punch the air, tear and rend anything within arm’s reach.

The first time she has a fit in her new form, it’s after Mrs. Potts reads the King and Queen’s decision on her…condition. She’s to stay here, on the outskirts of their kingdom, until a Prince comes to release her from her spell. Alone until a different sort of bond is forced on her, until she is made to change from princess to beast to bride.

Addy know why they refuse to save her. It’s because she’s always been too big, too strong, too ill-tempered, too–

In her rage, Addy upends the tea tray, forgetting, forgetting, forgetting.

She is reminded when fine china falls to the hard ground, when it rattles, when it shatters, when it screams.

“No!” Addy falls to her knees next to her dishes– no, her friends and frantically rights them, apologies tumbling from her lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Temper,” Mrs. Potts murmurs, more out of reflex than anything, looking obviously terrified. She hops from her side to her base, better able to control her new body than any other castle resident. Her lid is sitting askew and her eyes are wide (so wide) as they dart from one cup to another. “Daniel? Daniel!”

Addy cuts herself on broken porcelain and flinches. She–she’d killed him, she’d been so thoughtless, how could she? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“I’m okay,” a little voice says. “I’m okay, Mom!”

 Addy sobs as she locates him under the silver platter, on his side, trapped. She throws the platter too hard, lodging it in the wall, and takes Daniel in her paws.  

“It’s okay, Princess Addy,” Daniel chirps at her. He’s a little older than her, just a few years, and he’s always trying to be strong. His eyes are wide (too wide), but he offers her a tremulous smile. “I’m okay.”

“Thank goodness,” Mrs. Potts says and her china clinks as she hops forward. 

Addy’s eyes lock on the horrible, huge chip in his rim. 

I did that.

She’s across the room before being aware of setting Daniel down, of standing, of leaping away.

“Princess,” Mrs. Potts says from her low, low position on the floor. “What–”

“Don’t call me that,” Addy grits out. Her huge body leans heavily against the door, making it groan, as she desperately tries to wrap her paw around the handle. She can’t stop looking at the chip, the proof of harm, the proof that something much worse can happen so easily. “Don’t call me– I’m not–I’m not the Princess. I’m the Beast.”

The door crashes open and she disappears.

————————————————

It’s weeks before the servants realize that she’s never going to answer to her name again. She no longer sleeps in her princess bed or attempts to wear her princess clothes. She wears pants scavenged from the servants’ quarters, tunics from her father’s closet, ties her mane back with twine instead of ornaments.

“Addy!” they call. “Princess Addy!”

The Beast doesn’t even know who that is.

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keyed.

Originally posted by jiminnieseyesmile

3.8k words

members: jungkook, oc - reader

genre: fluff

warnings: language

You were sick and tired of your attractive idiot neighbor blocking your driveway.

a/n: i felt like writing this weekend and this happened surprise surprise. this is what happens when i’m buzzed off of two venti macchiatos please leave me feedback TT


“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You blocked out the angry voice shouting at you from your neighbors now open door. The hurried footsteps were getting closer but you pretended you didn’t hear, continuing to drag your key along the shiny black BMW blocking your driveway. Before you could reach the back tires a hand grasped your wrist, turning you around to face your irritating neighbor.

“Oh! Hey there, neighbor,” you grinned, innocently eyeing your neighbor head to toe. He was dressed casually with his hair tousled as though he’d just woken up. His jaw was tense as his hands tightly held your wrist, nothing but anger found in his eyes. You weren’t sure of his first name but had seen him a few times in silent passing. He was relatively new to the neighborhood, keeping to himself along with his roommate you caught quick glimpses of as well. The two had moved in a month ago and you kept to yourself as well, not bothering to play nice and whip up a housewarming desert you couldn’t even properly bake. It wasn’t until a week ago that you realized your neighbors weren’t exactly your cup of tea. They had people over constantly whether they were attending their overcrowded house parties, movie nights or simply staying over till the sun came back up. It seemed whenever the two had guests around their parking lot quickly become full, causing a new issue to arrive. You noticed the brunette, tall one seemed to have a kick out of parking right in front of your light blue beetle making it impossible for you to maneuver around his pricey sports car. The parties seemed to hit an all time high and you constantly found yourself trapped in your own driveway. You left sticky notes on his windshield, kindly asking him to stop blocking your spot and occasionally he would but it wouldn’t take long for him to fall back into his routine. It wasn’t until he made you late to your job earning you a lengthy lecture from your boss, that you felt you’d had enough, storming outside to drag your keys along his prized possession.

Your decision making skills weren’t the best when you were angry.

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FACTS ABOUT CONNOR MURPHY (spoilers)

So I have decided to post all the facts and hints about Connor Murphy’s past that are shown in the musical. It’s hard to make out considering people in the fandom usually focus on the lies Evan tells to figure out Connor’s personality.

To get this conclusion (which I will post in a second) I literally skipped all scenes concerning Evan’s lies and went directly to the Murphy family and what they say. None of these facts/hints involve what Evan said about Connor.

First of all, I’ll say now that I have put my own interpretation on each of these facts.

And so, I will put all FACTS in BOLD.
Anything out of bold is my own interpretation and how I see it to be. It’s up to you to agree with me or disagree.

First, I will post my conclusions on each family member, and then afterwards, I will post the reasons for each one.

Zoe

Zoe was an emotional and verbal abuse victim. There is no evidence of physical abuse, although there were threats that could have potentially led to that. She has all the right to not grieve over Connor, in all honesty, she could have sent him to the police for what he did, but as an abuse victim, that is very hard to do. Connor was probably the cause of most of her insecurities and she hated him for that. The unhealthy habit of taking out his anger on the nearest person to him probably made him lash out at his sister whenever he had a panic attack. Judging by how he really did care enough to keep the creepy letter about his sister, written by Evan, in his pocket for 3 days before he committed suicide, it’s safe to say that he really regretted being mean to his sister and actually cared about her.

Connor’s mom, Cynthia

Connor’s mom was a woman obsessed with reputation. She’s known as the rich man’s wife, and wants more than anything to be a regular family. But because her son had mental illnesses, her perfect image was ruined. She acted as though she was there for him but when it came down to it, she did nothing. She pushed for therapy but after a while, her husband took him out of it because “it wasn’t worth the money,” and she basically went, “welp, I tried.” I will quote what I say later: Connor’s mom might not actually be sad that her son is gone, but rather, she’s ashamed that her family actually doesn’t care. It seems like Connor’s mom is filled with regret for not being there for her son, and she’s forcing her family to act like they regretted it too, because that’s what a real family should have been like. But this is only a personal theory.

Connor’s dad, Larry

Connor’s dad might be one of the main sources of his depression. It is very obvious to me that Connor’s dad believed him to be a disappointment. He didn’t grieve for his dead son and only played along to make his wife happy. He’s annoyed by the whole situation. It even seemed like he hated the fact that there was fake remnants of his son in Evan. Almost like he wished Connor wasn’t friends with Evan so he could just forget all about him and not need to deal with it. At some point he was a kind father. When they went to the orchard together for picnics, it seems like they were a happy family. Connor’s dad had played with their toy plane together and had some great memories. The whole family practically forgot about this, though. Connor’s dad didn’t cry at his own dead son’s funeral. I think that sums it up.

Connor Murphy

Connor was a complicated person. He had many different mental illnesses. I could research which ones he probably had, but there’s probably already a post somewhere on it already. One thing for sure, is that he was unstable. He might not have been like that his whole life, but at the time of knowing him, the time he was briefly alive in the show, he was incredibly unstable. Everything and anything could set him off, and he probably hated that about himself as well. Pushing away everyone near him that could possibly help and hating himself for doing so, spiraling himself into a closed minded world of self-hate and regret, which is something that many people can relate to, including me. He did a lot of horrible things to his sister and to his family. I don’t blame his family for not actually grieving him, he was a really bad person. The problem is, he could have been a good person as well. He had all the potential to get better. He talked to Evan, probably wishing to say sorry about pushing him earlier in the hall. He was trying, he wanted to try. He wanted to get better. He just gave up too soon.

This post is very long! I’m sorry. If you’d like to read more, I’m putting the reasons I’ve come to these conclusions under the cut.

Remember, ALL FACTS ARE IN BOLD. Anything else is my personal interpretation.

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Dangerous Man (John Wick x Reader)

Originally posted by anothermoviepage

Working at The Continental isn’t at all what you thought it’d be. 

SPOILER FREE FIC.


You smoothed out your shirt and looked in the mirror. It was your first day on the job. You were decked out head to toe in brand new clothes. All from a designer you’d never heard of. All custom made to fit you perfectly.  All completely free. On top of that, you’d be making a salary that, at entry level, was six figures. And all you had to do was deliver room service.

But there was a saying you’d heard since you were young: If it’s too good to be true, then it probably is.

You should have suspected something was off when you had to give a blood sample, a urine sample, a DNA swab, and answer a thirteen page questionnaire that included things like “list the full names of your parents, siblings, and grandparents” or “do you have any experience with sutures, cauterization, or CPR?”

And then the interview, itself, felt more like an interrogation. The whole thing gave you this weird feeling in your gut, but this was also the most exclusive hotel in New York City. Getting a room here wasn’t about whether or not you had the money, but whether or not you knew the right people, and even then, it was typically booked solid. You’d even heard a rumor that The Queen of England was denied a room once. Of course they’d be picky about their staff.

But after the lengthy interview process and dozen or so signatures on papers you probably should have read, you found out the truth about The Continental.

The manager’s name was Winston. He was nice enough, though he had a very “no nonsense” attitude about him. The more you found out about the place, though, the more you understood why. It was a safe haven for a secret society of people. Assassins. Hit men. Gang Lords. The underground elite of not only New York, but the entire world. The only currency accepted from customers were gold coins. One gold coin was the equivalent to one favor. It was a simple system, Winston explained, but complex to newcomers. You’d pick it up over time. All you needed to know was that if you got a coin, you kept a close eye on it.

Additionally, the hotel followed a strict set of rules, but the two that most concerned you were that staff was never to ask questions, and no business could ever be conducted on hotel grounds. The latter of the two should have made you feel safer, but instead, it just made you more nervous.

Upon the conclusion of your meeting with Winston, he presented you with a single gold coin. You looked at him curiously. He smiled, and said simply:

“A welcome gift.”

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without really meaning it

The Way You Said “I Love You” Prompts
@stileslydiah requested “24. Without really meaning it”

Watching Derek dote on someone is hard – harder than Stiles thought it would ever be, despite the fact he knows it’s insincere; despite the fact it’s the job and nothing more.

 It’s hard because Stiles hasn’t had those arms around him in months, hasn’t had opportunity to arrange a chance meeting on a crowded street in weeks, hasn’t had Derek’s eyes meet his and watched his mouth curl into a smile for him.

 Derek’s team have been fairly indulgent, letting Stiles tag along on the assignment to observe and allowing him to blend with various crowds just to be close to Derek. Early on, before Derek insinuated himself into their mark’s life, they even allowed them to talk on the phone, but that might as well have been in another lifetime.

 Sometimes, Stiles hates his job, hates Derek’s job, hates the fact they’d never have met if it wasn’t for their jobs because then he can’t hate it as much.

 Stiles is across the restaurant and he can’t tear his eyes away from the back of Derek’s head for more than a few seconds at a time, usually at the prompting of the agent he’s sitting across from.

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Sugar, I’m Goin’ Down// Bad Boy Shawn // Chapter One

(*shows up two weeks late with Starbucks* anyways here’s college!badboy!shawn and yes, it’s going to be a fic because I can’t control myself and yes, the title is from the fallout boy song.)


The library is quiet, it’s after 8pm after all and you open up your folder with your notes to get started on an outline for an assignment for your mythology class. You’re about ten minutes in, just getting into the flow of it, really feeling your notes start to come together and you hear him. That loud, open mouthed, head thrown back, laughing jackal of a human being that you shared three classes with. Fucking Shawn.

Lord only know what he’s laughing at but it’s probably something his stupid ass friend Andrew has said or done. You wish he would just shut up because now you can hear him /talking/ and you’re just not in the mood to listen to him. Wasn’t it enough you had to listen to him chit chat with every girl who asked him about his stupid fucking black denim jacket with the stupid logo on the back that nobody cared about? Or maybe the way you had to share a worktable with him on the days showed up late because you were the only one without a table partner. He would always forget a pen, always fuck with the instruments on the table, ask stupid questions, and text while the professor was teaching. He was the absolute worst.

“Ha, yeah, anyways I told her to fuck off if she thought I was gonna-” Shawn stops mid sentence and you dare to look up, shocked by his silence, curious to know what caused it. Unfortunately when you do look up, he’s standing right there at the end of your table that’s tucked into the back corner of the library.

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Apples and Heroes

Originally posted by kissthejotun

Request: Can you please do a Star Trek story with Bones and the words “an apple a day keeps the doctor away”, “your pulse is weak,” and “all the apples in the world wouldn’t stop me.” They aren’t in your prompts list I hope that’s okay? Thank you!

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Sharpie Promises

Originally posted by escaped-ocelot

Raphael x Reader

Sharpie Promises

Note: I don’t know if I’ll publish this or not, but basically, I’m a ho for TMNT and soulmate AUs and I’ve never seen a TMNT Soulmate AU, so here you go. It’s the 2k14/2k16 turtles btw. Idk. I might do more of these if you guys like it.

Raphael wasn’t human. He had struggled with this, but had eventually come to terms with the fact. He didn’t have a soulmate and he wouldn’t ever find love. Not in a world full of humans. He tried to be all right with it. Keyword: tried.

It wasn’t until he was working out one day that he felt something cold and wet travelling across his left forearm. Just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. He removed his three-fingered hands from the weight he had been lifting and sat up to examine it.

Hi.

Messy black letters written in Sharpie. His green eyes narrowed. What was this? He had never felt or seen anything like this. But there it was, plain as day on his arm. He stared at it, afraid that the words would disappear, but no. They stayed right where they were. And then soon after, more appeared from nowhere, as though a ghost was writing on his arm with an invisible marker.

So, it’s like three in the morning here and I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but um, hi.

A long pause. Raph stared in amazement, too shocked to say anything.

You’re probably asleep, aren’t you? Dammit. Well, um…bye, I guess.

He had never run so fast in his life.

“Woah, woah, watch it!” Donnie raised his arms as Raph pushed his chair away from his station and grabbed a Sharpie, pulling off the cap between his teeth and scrawling in the empty space on his arm.

Wait.

***

Your heart raced as a response finally appeared.

Wait.

Big, messy letters that you could tell had been written in a rush.

I’m here. Who are you? What’s happening?

You stared at the letters, the handwriting. Your stomach dropped, the nerves kicking in. This was it. This was your soulmate. You had no idea how this worked. No one did, but it worked, and that was all that mattered. A magical pen-pal from far away, probably. Why anyone would be up at this ungodly hour besides you was beyond you. But now you had to reply. You turned over your arm to write back.

I’m (Y/N). Your soulmate, I think. I don’t know…this is what everyone else does, but I’ve always been too shy to try.

***

Soulmate.

Raph’s heart skipped a beat when the word was written on his arm. Soulmate. He had a soulmate. He actually had…Oh my God.

“Raph, are you crying?” Mikey asked, looking up at his older brother, whose eyes certainly looked a little misty.

“N-no. I just got dirt in my eye. Go away.” He sniffled and smiled.

“Whatcha doin’?” the youngest turtle looked over Raph’s shoulder and scanned a few words before he raised his arm far above Mikey’s head, but he had already seen it. Soulmate. “You…you have a soulmate?”

“I guess so.” Raph shrugged. By now, Donnie and Leo were paying attention to what was happening.

“You have a what?” Donnie’s head snapped around. He pulled down Raph’s arm to examine it. But there it was, plain as day. What the internet described as a ‘soulmate exchange’. “I didn’t think it was scientifically possible for you…for us to have…”

“Are you serious?” Leo came over to look.

“What do I look like? A freakin’ museum?” Raph snapped. “Now go away. I gotta write ‘er back.” The others gave him some space as he walked over to the couch and sat down, the tip of the Sharpie hovering over his green arm.

Soulmate, huh? Did think I had one of those. Name’s Raphael. Nice to meet ya.

***

What are you, a renaissance artist? Lol JK

Something like that.

So where are you from, Mr. Renaissance Artist?

New York, New York.

Seattle, Washington. Well, this might be a little complicated, huh?

Something like that…

***

You wrote to Raphael until the sun came up and then you crashed. You had thought it was a dream until you saw the words written there the next morning. You had a soulmate. His name was Raphael. He was from New York.

But at least he existed. It could be a lot worse.

It wasn’t until about noon, three o’clock there, that you wrote to him again, after having wiped your arm off to give you more room to write.

Good morning.

You wake up at noon?

Only when I’m up until sunrise talking to my soulmate.

Fair enough.

So how’s your day been?

Overwhelming.

Fair enough.

***

Leo, Donnie, and Mikey were all bunched behind Raphael to watch.

“Go away!”

“Dude, we just wanna watch.” Mikey whined.

“Go! Away!”

“All right, sheesh,” Donnie walked back to his lab, and Leo and Mikey reluctantly walked away.

So…

He wrote.

What’cha wanna talk about?

I don’t know.

What’s it like in Seattle?

Rainy. What’s it like in New York?

Noisy. He replied, a smirk spreading across his scarred lips. How old are you?

Seventeen.

Same.

Nice. How tall are you?

Like 6’5”-ish.

Holy shit! You’re gonna have to bend down to kiss me.

Kiss you. He was going to kiss you. Eventually. A new concept. Butterflies spread through his stomach, but he tried to play it off.

You a shorty?

Compared to you, yeah. Always had a thing, for tall guys, though. No worries. ;)

He smiled.

Got any hobbies? You asked.

Ninjitsu, bein’ a giant mutant turtle, etc…

Uh, I knit sometimes. And I work out. A lot.

Mr. Muscles the Knitting Renaissance Artist. You keep getting better and better.

So what do you do for fun, Shorty in Seattle?

Oh you know, read, write, spend ungodly amounts of time on the internet.

Sounds fun.

It is. So, anyways, I’ve been looking into New York travel recently (and by recently I mean right now immediately) for reasons, you know. Anyway, what area of New York should I travel to in…ten months when I go to college (that I’ve just applied to) there?

***

After a long day of talking to you and patrolling and trying to work out, Raph was exhausted. He laid in his top bunk, reading your ramble with a smile.

After replying, he knew it was time to go to sleep.

I’m wiped. I gotta sleep.

Oh, okay. Goodnight Raph.

Night, (nickname).

I love you.

His heart skipped a beat.

I love you too.

I can’t wait to meet you.

Already countin’ down the days, babe.

Me too.

***

Weeks later, you got an idea.

So, theoretically, if I were to Skype you, would you pick up?

I don’t have a Skype.

I want to hear your voice.

I can call you, if you want. I just don’t do video chats?

Why?

Because I’m a giant freaking mutant turtle and I don’t want my soulmate to hate and/or be afraid of me.

I want to see you for the first time in person.

All right then. Here’s my number.

You waited in bated breath for your phone to ring, and then suddenly it did. Your thumb hovered above the accept button. You felt like your whole body was trembling.

“Hey there.” You could hear the shaking in your voice. He chuckled, and already you loved the sound of his laugh.

“Hey yourself,”

“Oh my God, I love your voice.” You gushed.

“I love yours too, shorty.”

“Aaaaah! Your accent is so hot!”

“Heh, yeah.” He smiled.

“Ooh, are you talking to (Y/N)?” Mikey asked. “Can I say hi?”

“No, you can’t. Shoo.”

“Who’s that?” You asked.

“My little brother.” Mikey tried to reach up and grab Raph’s phone, but he squirmed away from him. “Mikey, go away!”

“But-!”

“Go away!”

“I wanna say hi to your girlfriend!!”

“Mikey, leave Raph alone.” Leo smirked from across the lair. The youngest brother left, deflated.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Where were we?”

“I was gushing over your very attractive voice, Mr. Muscles.”

“Ah. Right.” He tried not to blush and failed miserably. A slow smirk snuck across his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too!”

***

“Did you get it yet?” Raph called you a few months before you were supposed to arrive. As the day approached, he got more and more anxious. You would be here in New York and he wouldn’t be able to skirt around the truth anymore. He was a giant turtle and you were a human girl. It wasn’t going to work out.

But nonetheless, he had sent you something. Something to remember him by if it didn’t work out, he supposed.

“It came in today! I haven’t opened it yet, though. I’m going to right now. Give me a sec, I’m gonna put you on speaker.”

“All right.” Raph listened as you set down your phone and put him on speaker. Then came the noise of you cutting the tape and opening the small cardboard box and sifting through the tissue paper.

“Oh my gosh! It’s amazing! I love it! You really made this?”

“I did.” He smirked. You held up the perfect little pendant. A polished wooden turtle that Raphael had carved himself. It hung from a simple twine string. You put it on immediately, tying the necklace around your neck. You let your fingers run over all of the intricate little grooves.

“I’m never taking it off, I hope you know that.”

“I’m flattered.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see how it looks on ya.”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

A nervous little laugh.

“Yeah. Pretty soon, now.”

“It couldn’t come soon enough.” You smiled warmly. “It’s late. I’m gonna get some sleep. Exams tomorrow and then I’m out of school for the summer. And then, only two months until I get to see you.”

“Well, you rest up, shorty. Get good grades. I don’t want ya to fail.”

“Good night. I love you.”

“I love ya too. Night.”

When he hung up, he stared at the ceiling. God, what was he gonna do?

***

You were full of jitters when you landed in New York two short months later. The time had crawled by so slow, but you passed the time. And now you were here, the center of the modern world.

“I’m here! I just landed! When do you want to meet up?”

“Um, how about you get settled? Go to your apartment or whatever. I’ll come over tonight.”

“Okay.” Your heart raced. “Okay. I’ll see you then. I’ll uh, get you the address once I find it.”

“Sounds like a plan. Stay safe. I’ll see ya tonight.”

“See you.” When you hung up, Raph started to pace through the lair.

“I’m going to see her tonight. Oh my God. She’s gonna find out I’m a giant turtle and she’s gonna hate me.”

“Statistically, after ten months of-”

“No more science bulllshit, Don! I’m a freak! She’s gonna run screamin’ and I’ll never see her again!”

“It’ll be fine, Raph. You’re over reacting. As usual.” Leo’s tone was cool, annoyed. “She loves you. We’d have to be blind not to see that.”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight, huh?” He slumped onto the couch, a deep dread setting in. Tonight was not going to be pretty. He knew it.

***

After you had unpacked and met your roommate, a very nice woman named April who had been searching for a roommate for some time now, you called Raph and gave him an address. He asked about how things were and so you told him about your roommate. He chuckled. Well, that might make things a little easier. He told you he wasn’t far and he would be over in a few.

“Who’s that?” April asked after you hung up.

“My soulmate. He’s the reason I moved here, actually. He’s coming here if that’s okay.”

“More than fine with me.” She smiled. “What’s his name?”

“Raphael.” You told her. Her face lit up in surprise. Now the turtle necklace she had complimented you on when you walked in made a whole lot of sense. She doubted that you knew why though.

So this was the (Y/N) he had talked about. His soulmate. Shorty from Seattle.

“Nice name.”

“I know, right?” Your phone buzzed. “Oh my God, it’s him.”

“Hey babe, come outside.” You stood there in confusion for a second. “Fire escape.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll be down in a sec.” You nodded, tucking the phone away. Your heart raced as you climbed out the window and down the metal fire escape to the alley below. There, in the shadows stood a very tall, very large silhouette.

“Hey there.” It was him. His voice. In person. “I uh, I need ya to promise me something, gorgeous.”

“What?”

“Just…p-promise you won’t scream.”

“Why would I-?”

“Promise.”

“I promise.” You stated certainly.

“I, uh, I ain’t exactly…normal.”

“I love you, Raph.”

“You won’t when you see me.” His voice was quiet as all of his insecurities came to the surface.

“Raphael,” You reached out for him, hand forward for a long few moments until his three-fingered green one met it, pressing against it like Tarzan and Jane. Something familiar and something foreign. You gasped quietly, but when he moved to pull away, you gripped one of his large fingers. “Please.”

He let out a long sigh, considering bolting then and there, but he gave in and took a few slow, heavy steps out of the dark to where you could see him. Your soulmate was a giant mutant turtle. He waited for the sting of rejection, for the tears of disappointment streaming down your cheeks, but they never came. Instead, you pulled his muscular arms around yourself, clinging to him as though this was your last chance. He held you tight against his plastron, his knees giving out in the wave of relief that washed over him. Raph buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt hot tears against your skin.

Thank you.” A broken whisper from his scarred lips. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” You kissed his cheek and then his forehead, and you lifted his face to look at the green face under the tattered red bandana.

“All ‘uh this don’t bug you?” He asked, tear-filled green eyes searching yours. “You don’t care that I’m a freak?”

“You’re not a freak, Raphael.” The feeling of your soft skin against his face drove him up the wall in the best possible way. “Not to me.”

“Are ya just sayin’ that because I’m your soulmate?”

“I mean it.” You locked eyes with him and he felt as though you were staring into his soul. His smile was the most gorgeous thing you had ever seen. Curiosity sparked behind your eyes as you examined every inch of him, taking him in. “What are you?”

There wasn’t hatred or fear in your voice, only awe.

“I’m a mutant. A turtle. Hence the uh-” he motioned to the necklace around your neck. “That.”

“I love turtles,” You whispered as you kissed his snout. You were so close. So close he could just about…

You closed the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He didn’t know how to respond, but followed his instincts and tried his hardest to kiss you back. His large hands held your hips and your small hands framed his jaw before moving to his shoulders, fingers gently searching the terrain of his shell.

When you finally pulled away from him, you looked at him for a long time.

“Hey do you wanna come up for pizza?” April called down from the apartment window.

“Yeah, sure April. Are the guys coming?”

“Just got off the phone with Leo. They’re on their way.”

“Wait, you two know eachother?” You asked. Raph smiled and shrugged, finally getting to his feet and taking you with him. God, he was so tall.

“We go way back.” April smiled. “I named him.”

“What?”

“Long story. Come on, shorty.” He picked you up off of the ground as if you weighed nothing and carried you on his hip, your feet dangling a foot in the air. “’Bout time you met my brothers, huh?”

***

After you had met his brothers and enjoyed some celebratory pizza, the six of you had settled down to watch a movie. At the moment, Raph was spread out on the couch with you laying on top of him and a cozy red blanket draped over both of you. He nuzzled into your neck as your hands traced gentle circles on his plastron.

“I love you, Raphael.” You kissed his jaw. He hummed contentedly.

“I love you too, soulmate.” The word had never sounded so right.

@turtllinis @turtimagines @turtlebaes @anetteshortie @imagineninjaturtles @imaginetmnt @totally-turtle-imagines @immortal-turtles

Tantalizing: 05

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Sex Toys, Degrading Names, Choking, Spanking, Slight BDSM, Handjob, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Gagging, Blinfolding, Slight Violence? Slight Angst?
Word Count: 7,599

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Caught

summary: 
“Phil, why are you sitting in a different location?” Phil reads off of the chat accidentally. Not even five minutes into the show and he’s already seeming suspicious. Nice. Phil’s cheeks tint pink and he hopes that it goes unnoticed to the people watching. He feels like he should care more about what he looks like, especially since Dan is kneeling just out of shot, mouthing over Phil’s growing length. (prompt here)

genre: smut

warnings: public kink, voyeurism (not rly tho is it), blowjobs, deepthroating ;)

word count: 1790

read on ao3!!!

a/n: heyoooooo this was a fun prompt, i’m so happy i wrote this. i also got really awesome prompts today so i gotta get on those. i’ll keep this short, but just reminding you that i’m updating The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty tomorrow!!! get hyped!!!!!! i hope you all enjoy <3333

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Another Chance

Summary: The reader ends up on a double date with Dean. Will they have a good time or will they drive themselves and everyone else crazy?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,979


“I can’t do this. I’m leaving your ass here. Call me when you need to be picked up!” You declare strongly, ignoring the sheer panic flashing across your best friend’s pretty features.

“Don’t you dare. Let’s go!” Jenny huffs theatrically, grabbing a hold of your bicep and refusing to set you free.

“I did not agree to this.” You whine dramatically making your best friend suddenly shoot daggers at you.

“You agreed to go on this double date! Come on, Y/N. This is my first date with Sam and I’m really nervous. I need a buffer.”

“I figured my date would be someone I actually like. Sam has so many cute friends and he picked his god damn brother. What the fuck?”

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A Real Prince Charming.

warnings: self-doubt.

pairings: prinxiety-romantic could also be read as platonic. and paltonic moxiety.

word count: 1,587

gifs not mine

tag list: @321angst @lostin–translation @ajumbleofwords @friendlyinternetmeerkat @zadi-jyne @yourdailysunshine @love-sanders-sides @musicphanpie-b @demonickittykat

Originally posted by prinanalogicality

Originally posted by sanderssides-fics

Virgil was never bothered by the black and white world he lived in. Many found their soulmates around the age of ten through thirteen. Seeing as Virgil was nearing his 25th birthday, far longer than normal to have met his other half, he had accepted that he just wasn’t meant to have a soulmate.

  Many pitied him, offering sympathies and condolences when the subject came up. Everyone thought that Virgil’s uncaring attitude towards solemates was just a facade, and that he was dying on the inside from being alone. Virgil always had rejected this, insisting he was fine.

…………………………………………………….

  Roman was a hopeless romantic from the day he was born. By age five he began to daydream about how or when he would meet his soulmate. He wanted something different than the others. He didn’t want the cliche story of meeting in class one day. But then, as everyone else found their partners and he didn’t, he began to regret that wish.

  On his fifteenth birthday he told his mother he gave up, he was fine with the monochrome life he lived. Even though he told everyone he was fine, he began to grow insecure at the thought that he didn’t have another half. His senior year, he joined drama and threw himself into it with a passion. If he couldn’t express his love to another, ten he could at least portray his feelings on stage.

…………………………………………………….

  “Patton, please! I don’t want to go.” Virgil complained loudly from his bed. Virgil had had a nice night planned. Pizza rolls for dinner, then hours of Netflix in his warm bed. He had been deciding between rewatching Parks and Rec or The Office when the older man showed up on his door step waving two tickets to the local theater production of Cinderella and demanded he go.

  “No” Virgil had said before turning and walking back to his room and crawling into bed.

  “Get up you’re going! You have to get out more if you ever want to find your special somebody.“ Patton was Virgil’s best friend since childhood, and the only one who hadn’t given up on finding Virgil’s soulmate yet.

  “You’re going to this play, Verge.” Patton said, his dad voice at full power.

  Virgil sighed knowing he couldn’t fight Patton. He would give in the second he gave him the puppy dog eyes. Sighing loudly again, more for effect than any actual protest, he stood from the bed and walked to the closet to change into something more suitable for being around other people. Patton clapped his hands in excitement, barely giving time for Virgil to get his shoes on before dragging the younger of the two out of the house.

…………………………………………………….

  Roman’s insecurities always made him a tad nervous before he performed, but tonight was so much worse. He was so nervous he was almost sick. His friend Logan took notice almost instantly.

  “Ro, you look like Snow White are you sure you’re fine?” he asked. Roman nodded.

  “I’m fine, it’s just nerves.” he lied. Logan looked suspicious, but nodded. It was too close to show time to argue now. He made his way over to the sound booth, leaving Roman alone to prepare for the opening scene.

…………………………………………………….

  Patton had insisted that they get there early to have a good seat. They arrived nearly half an hour early and the crowd in the lobby only added to Virgil’s distaste for the situation. Patton chose a seat close enough to the front that he could see, but his anxious friend wouldn’t be in the center of any cast member’s focus.

  They sat at the end of the row so that nobody would be directly next to Virgil and if he needed he could leave without a fuss. They had only been sitting in their seats for five minutes and virgil was already uncomfortable. He felt as if he had a large rock sitting on his lungs, and he could barely breathe.

  He thought about telling his friend they needed to leave, but before he could speak the lights dimmed and the play began. Despite his best efforts to focus, Virgil felt his attention slip from the show. Around the ballroom scene a nagging feeling began urging Virgil pay more attention to the stage. It was hard to tell from the stage but the Prince looked pretty good. Virgil continued his silent admiration of the royal figure on stage until their eyes met for just a split second.

  Virgil’s world exploded. Suddenly he could see the color of the red sash crossing the prince’s chest. Whipping his head to the side, he could clearly see the blue of Cinderella’s dress. Turning to Patton revealed that his friend’s hair was a darker brown than he had suspected.

  The rock that had been on his chest grew, breathing became even harder, panic setting in. Thoughts flooded his mind, ‘He’s on stage, how will he know it was me?’ flashed in his head followed by ‘But what if he didn’t see anything?’ The rock was crushing him now, he had to leave. Standing, Virgil ran from the theater and out the building.

…………………………………………………….

  Roman still felt that sick feeling in his stomach when his cue came. He was supposed to say a few lines then look towards the audience, but the urge to look before his cue was nagging in the back of his mind. When it was finally time to look, he scanned the crowd. A habit he had formed long ago in hopes he would see his soulmate. It never worked but he always did it.

  Roman held back a gasp as he made brief eye contact with a member of the audience, and suddenly everything changed. He quickly averted his eyes from the crowd, trying hard to finish the scene but he had forgotten everything except the startlingly bright brown eyes of his apparent soulmate. He stuttered out what he thought was his line before quickly looking back at the crowd, only to see the person had left their seat and was running towards the exit.

  All at once Roman’s doubts over so many years hit him hard. ‘They left because they didn’t want you! Why would they want you?’ The moment he was off stage he ran to Logan.

“Take my place!” he said, ripping of his mic, leaving his confused friend behind.

…………………………………………………….

  Patton raced out of the building after his friend, worry clouding his eyes.

  “KIDDO! WAIT UP!” he yelled.

  When virgil finally stopped running, he leaned on a building, sunk to the ground, and buried his face in his knees. Patton came to a stop beside him slightly out of breath.

  “What,” he gasped out. “What happened?”

  Virgil couldn’t think of a way to tell his friend what was wrong. Everything was happening too fast and he blurted out the only thing he could think of.

 “Pat, your shirt’s blue”

  A gasp left the older man’s mouth. He quickly sat, pulling Virgil into a hug.

  “You saw your soulmate.” Patton whispered. There was a moment of silence before Patton’s words sank in. Nearly crushing Virgil, a now very excited Patton suddenly yelled, “WE HAVE TO GO BACK!”

  The sudden loud noise caused Virgil to jump, and his friend quickly lowered his voice

  “Sorry kiddo.” patton whispered.

  “But we have to get you back to meet them!” Patton exclaimed, his vpice quickly rising as the excitement built again.

  “Patton…” the broken sound of Virgil’s voice caused the worry to return.

  “What if he didn’t see the colors? What if he’s my soulmate but I’m not his?” he asked, looking to his friend.

  “Pat, i’ve seen black and white my whole life! I convinced myself that I wasn’t made for anybody and now that I can see colors I can’t pretend anymore. Patton I don’t know what to do! I’m scared…” Virgil’s anxiety fueled rant trailed off as tears began down his face.

  Patton had no answer, he just held his friend and gave him time to calm down.

…………………………………………………….

  Roman had left the theater building still in his costume, not even caring about the multitude of weird looks he got. He walked down the street, mind running a million miles an hour.

  ‘Why did they run when they saw me?’ he wondered only for the negative voice from before to reply with ‘why wouldn’t they run when they saw you?’

  He was so consumed with his thoughts, he didn’t notice the two figures sitting against the wall until he tripped over their out-stretched feet. He was barely able to catch himself from a rather less than princely faceplant, before a voice not unlike that of a concerned father called out “Oh my, are you okay?”.

  “Yeah, i’m fine!” Roman replied, sitting up and brushing off his costume. It was another few moments before Roman looked up to see a very familiar face.

  “It’s you!” he gasped, nearly throwing himself at his very startled soulmate. He felt his other half rest his hands on his waist to hold him steady. In a different situation, Roman might have felt awkward practically sitting on a stranger’s lap, but he couldn’t look into those eyes and feel anything other than pure joy.

  “Hello, I’m Roman. And i’ve been waiting for you my whole life.” he said quietly, looking absolutely awestruck.

  “Im Virgil.“ His shy, cute, wonderful, soulmate responded, looking up at him with a small smile.

  "Well then Virgil, thank you for bringing color to my world.”

NurseyWeek Prompt #1 - Silence/Mistake. Um, kind of. Got a bit off track.          ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


Dex tromps into the Haus, slamming the door shut and tossing his bag haphazardly on the floor, kicking it out of the way as he passes. He’s scowling, which, frankly, isn’t that unusual, but his expression has an edge of something that tugs at Derek. Dex doesn’t even spare him a glance as he flops down at the other end of the couch with an exasperated growl, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. Silence fills the space between them for a moment.

“So, how was your day?” Derek asks.

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah, mine was good, too.”

“Fuck. Off.”

Derek scans the defeated slope of Dex’s body as it’s sprawled over the couch, frowning to himself. Huh. He drops the fake cheer from his voice and puts his notebook down on the end table behind him.

“Dex, hey. What happened?” he asks, voice softer now, quiet even in the relative silence of the Haus mid-day. Dex cracks one amber eye open and gives him a look, squinting semi-suspiciously at him. Derek waits him out, tilting his head and trying to look open for conversation.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

1. Things you said at 1 am trimberly please!

Kimberly learns that Trini mumbles in her sleep.

Sometimes it’s utter nonsense that spills out of her mouth, like “no, I don’t want to get on the flying snake” or “hands off my hotdog you son of a bitch.” Those are the funniest because Trini doesn’t like to curse when she’s awake - a habit learned by being around her little brothers all day - but man oh man, does her subconscious have things to say.

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oh my my

hi! here it is! the third part to let’s hurt tonight. the first two parts are linked below if you missed them! i hope you like it, only two parts left!

let’s hurt tonight | future looks good

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

The drive home wasn’t pleasant and it wasn’t something you were accustomed to driving through in California. In fact, now that you think about it, you’re not sure you’ve ever driven in a storm like this. The rain fell down in sheets so heavy your windshield wipers couldn’t keep up. You had to keep your hands firmly on the wheel when wind threatened to push you into another lane. You held your breath every time your car hydroplaned for a few seconds, taking all your self control not to slam on the brakes. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as you finally pull your car into the garage, close to 12 AM. With a sigh, you shut the car off and grab your things, fumbling with the keys in the lock. The door gets stuck and you push it a few times before it gives and you practically fall through the threshold.

Candles are lit all around the house and its a moment before you realize the power’s out. Harry walks into view, phone in hand, looking panicked, “Where have you been?”

You frown, “Work.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You were at work until 12:00 AM?”

“Actually it was more like 11:15…” You trail off when you see the look on his face, “What? There’s only a month until this trial I need all the time I can get.”

“You could’ve at least called! Do you know how worried I was? I thought you were wrapped around a tree somewhere.”

“I’m sorry, my phone died and the power in the office went out.”

“You couldn’t have borrowed someone else’s phone?”

“I was the only one left in the office.” A lie, but you didn’t think now was the best time to tell him you and Ron had been alone in the office all night with nothing but candles to light the room.

He gives a short laugh, “Of course, of course you were the only one left, you’re the only one crazy enough to stay at work that late especially when there’s no power.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Harry.”

“Me? I’m the arsehole right now? You’re six hours late and you didn’t even call.”

“And I said I was sorry!” You walk past him and start up the stairs, rolling your eyes when you hear his steps echo your own.

“You always say you’re sorry, but you never mean it. You just keep doing the same things. When was the last time you got home at a decent hour?”

You round on him, “This is the most important case I’ve ever had! Can’t you just cut me some slack until it’s over?”

He’s a couple steps below you so for once you’re eye level, neither of you yielding to the other.

“I don’t know how much more slack I can cut you when you don’t show any regard for my feelings.” His voice is low and layered with indifference. He’s tired and he can’t fight you anymore.

Maybe if your day had gone different, maybe if you had gotten home earlier, maybe if you weren’t so stressed and frustrated, maybe you would’ve apologized and meant it this time. Maybe you would’ve kissed Harry and told him to come to bed.

But instead, you scoffed, “You’re being ridiculous. You’ll be over this by morning, I’m going to bed.” And you do indeed go to bed, leaving Harry on the stairs.

You’re awake when he climbs into bed and you think it might be the first time he doesn’t reach for you before falling asleep.

***

“They did what?”

Ron throws a pile of papers on your desk and you immediately begin flipping through them, “They changed their story.”

“Why… Why would he do that?”

“Probably because he figured it would be easier for us to catch them in a lie if they stuck with the whole ‘I’ve never seen her in my life’ bit. Oh, and a witness came forward who said she saw the three boys talking to our client during that party and that one of them got her a drink.”

“So we could use that witness to imply that they spiked her drink, just like she said they did.”

“Yeah.” He collapses in his seat, “So this case just got a lot more difficult.”

You quietly scan the papers over as quickly as possible, “They still won’t admit sexual relations with her.”

“Because we have no evidence to prove otherwise.”

“Except her testimony.”

“Mhm.”

You lightly toss the papers and lean back in your chair, “Shit.” You murmur.

Ron runs his hands over his face, “There really was no physical evidence?”

“We’ve been over this, she never went to the hospital, or anyone until days later. She only let me take pictures of her bruises, nothing else. She wouldn’t let anyone touch her.”

He’s quiet a moment, “What about her underwear? What happened to that?”

You flippantly wave your hand, “She never found it, she left… without it.” Your voice trails off as an idea begins to take root.

“Oh!” Ron points to you, “That’s your idea face, I love that face, gimme something good darlin’.”

“Call me darling again and I’ll have you castrated.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m a misogynist, you’ve told me a million times, yada yada yada, now what’s churning in that pretty head of yours?” You glare at him. “I meant, in that intelligent, brilliant head of yours.”

You roll your eyes, “I was just thinking that maybe we underestimated these boys.”

He frowns, “I’m not following.”

“What if… what if they took her underwear in case it did have semen on it? What if one of them still has it?”

Ron sits up now, you have his attention, “Do you think we could get a search warrant?”

You shrug, “The judge did give me access to the school’s records of past accusations. He might give it to us, but I don’t know, it’s just a guess.”

He gets up and pulls on his blazer, “Come on, let’s go.” He tosses you your keys, “You’re driving.”

“Where are we going?”

“The judge’s chambers.”

“Oh, okay, yeah that’s super reasonable, let’s just show up unannounced. I’m sure he’ll take that very well.”

He ignores your sarcasm, “He loves us, it’ll be fine.”

***

You try calling Harry in the car because being alone with Ron for so long makes you miss him, but he doesn’t answer.

And you, being so oblivious to others lately, don’t realize that he ignored you on purpose.

***

“Usually it’s the police that come to me asking for a warrant. This is quite unusual.” He looks down at the both of you through his wire framed spectacles.

You knew this would be coming. “Of course, Your Honor, but given that the police were hesitant to even carry out the arrest warrant because of their… connections with the defendants, you can imagine why we’re concerned that they haven’t proceeded with this investigation as thoroughly as they should have.”

“I agree with you, but this also seems like a desperate attempt to get more evidence and it sounds to me like the two of you are struggling to build a case.”

“Not at all, Your Honor, it’s just that most of our evidence is subjective and we know how a jury loves some DNA.”

“You’d be hard pressed to find DNA on that underwear still.”

“Even so, finding the underwear in their possession would be damning enough.”

“And do you have reason to believe one of them has the underwear?”

“When our client awoke after the incident she was never able to find it, so we were thinking it was possible they took it to cover their tracks.”

There’s a long pause, and then he sighs. “I’m going to send three separate warrants for each of the defendants permitting search of their dorm rooms and their cars. I really hope you’re right about this.”

You couldn’t believe your luck, “Thank you, Your Honor.”

You felt like you were walking on air as you walked out of the courtroom, you had a really good feeling about this and your first thought immediately was to call Harry and share the good news. Though, you couldn’t do that in front of Ron who would surely jump down your throat about confidentiality.

***

You practically skipped into the house around 4:30, you and Ron deciding to take the rest of the day off after the success of the search warrant. Her underwear had been found in the trunk of one of the boys’ cars and sent to the lab immediately.

“Harry?” You call through the house, unable to keep the smile off your face.

It’s a few moments before the basement door creaks open and Harry appears, “You’re home.” He frowns.

“Yeah, so are you.” You say, setting your things down and walking towards him, “Why didn’t you go to the studio?”

He shrugs, “Wanted to work by myself today.”

You’re excited to tell him your good news, but something seems off, “Is everything okay?” You reach to put a hand on his arm and he very subtly avoids it, walking by you to the fridge to grab a water. You turn to follow him, confusion and hurt warring on your face. He wasn’t subtle enough.

“Fine,” He says and takes a sip of water, “Why are you home so early?”

You’re still recovering from his rejection, “Um…” He blinks at you. “I’m sorry, I just, something seems off here.”

“Does it?” He says, “I haven’t noticed.” He opens the fridge again and then closes it, “We need groceries.” He goes to grab his keys.

“Can I come with you?” You refuse to sit at home doing nothing knowing something’s wrong.

He looks like he might say no, but then he sighs, unable to say no to you, “Sure.”

Harry turns the radio on almost immediately and turns it just high enough so that talking would be difficult. You reach out to turn down the volume, “Can we talk?”

“About what?”

“About why you’re clearly angry with me.”

“I’m not angry, I’m tired.”

Your eyebrows knit together, “Tired?”

His fingers tighten on the steering wheel, “I’m tired of coming second to your case.”

Realization dawns on you, “This is about last night.” He doesn’t answer. “Harry, I said I was sorry. I even came home early today.”

“And I have no doubt that that decision had nothing to do with me.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters! Because you never come home for me. Ron probably gets to spend more time with you than I do. For all I know there’s something going on with the two of you.”

“Now you just sound stupid.”

“Yeah? Why did you lie to me about being alone in the office last night? I know Ron was with you.”

Oh no. “How did you know that?”

“I ran into him this morning when I went to get coffee. Why did you lie to me?” He repeats.

“You were already mad at me and I didn’t want to give you another reason to be upset.”

“So you lied to me? Did you think when I found out I would be happy about that?”

“I didn’t think you would find out.” You said quietly. “But I hate Ron and it’s ridiculous for you to think that there’s anything going on and I know you know that.”

“Maybe it’s ridiculous or maybe you realized you should’ve married a lawyer like Ron so you’d have someone more understanding than me.“

You roll your eyes, “Well, we’re not married yet, so you still have time to change your mind.”

You’re at a red light and he turns his full body to you, “Is that what you want?” He says quietly.

“Of course not!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “If I wanted to marry a lawyer I wouldn’t have gotten engaged to you! But since you wanna be so damn dramatic about this—”

“You know what, I don’t want to talk about this anymore because you’re just not getting it and I’m tired of talking in circles.” He turns the volume of the radio back up.

You immediately reach out and turn it back down, “So, what? You’re just going to be mad at me forever? Do you want me to quit my job, is that it? You’re asking me to choose between you and my career and we promised we’d never ask that of each other.”

He pulls into a parking spot outside of Whole Foods. “That’s not what I want! I don’t want you to choose! I just want to feel like we’re equally prioritized and right now it feels like you’re picking your career over me.” The car is parked and turned off at this point.

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, growing tired of constantly having to defend yourself, “Harry, I’m doing the best I can.”

“What happens when we have kids? Huh? Are you going to abandon them the way you abandon me every time there’s a case that’s more important?”

For a moment, the devastation plays across your face, but then you set your jaw and furiously wipe at the one tear that managed to escape your eyes. “That’s a really shitty thing to say.” Your voice is thick and you get out of the car, slamming the door before walking into the store, Harry trailing behind you. You try your best to look normal because despite Harry’s comment, you don’t want anyone to get a shot of the two of you fighting.

You sniffle as you reach the shopping carts, but the one you want is stuck and you’re getting more frustrated, aggressively trying to separate it from another cart when Harry gently pushes your hands away and pulls it out for you. You sniff again, “Thanks.” You murmur.

You’re both silent as you push through the aisles, each grabbing things you want. You’re grabbing a couple rolls of sushi for dinner because you’re too lazy to cook tonight when Harry finally says something, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He says softly.

You place the sushi in the cart and continue pushing without saying anything for a while. Then, “Do you even know how much I love you?”

He sighs, “Yeah, of course I do—“

“Then how could you even say that to me? Abandon you? Abandon our future children? And on top of that you think I would leave you for another lawyer? Is that really how little you think of me?” You’re fighting back tears again in the cereal aisle and Harry steps in front of the cart, to stop you from moving.

When he moves to you and cups your face in his hands, you let him, “I didn’t mean that, I was upset.”

You push his hands away, “People always mean the things they say when they’re upset.” You press the sleeve of your shirt to your eyes before continuing down the aisle.

He makes an exasperated sound from behind and then lengthens his strides until he’s next to you, “Look, I—“ He blows out air between his lips, “I was wrong to say that. I know you would never… I know how much you love me and it was a stupid thing to say. And I hate that I made you cry and I don’t want to fight anymore—We need coffee—It’s just I miss you and things with the label aren’t going well and I just… I just feel like I’m grabbing desperately at the things I love and they’re all falling through my fingers and I don’t know what to do.”

You’re throwing the coffee Harry said you needed in the cart before you turn back to him, “I’m sorry things aren’t going well at work, but you and I both know you’re brilliant at what you do and things will work out. As for me? You’re never going to lose me, Harry. And I don’t know what I have to do to convince you. I mean, I already promised to marry you.” You both smile as you always do at the mention of the engagement. The giddiness never fades. “I’ll spend more time with you when I’m home from now on. No more late work nights until the week of the trial and no working at home, does that seem fair?”

He nods and takes your chin between his thumb and index finger and presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, conscious that people have been watching you since you walked in, “I’m sorry.”

“So am I. And I never want to have this argument ever again.”

“Well thank God because I’m tired of having it.”

You smile and press another quick kiss to his mouth before continuing through the store.

***

“And so,” You pop another piece of sushi in your mouth, “The judge gave us the warrant, the police went to search the properties… and they found her underwear.”

“Really?” He swallows, “That’s great, babe. You have this in the bag then.”

“Not necessarily.” You wanted to talk about the case, but also Harry was looking exceptionally snuggly in a big pink jumper and sweatpants, his hair still a bit damp from the shower he took when the two of you got back from the store. It was ridiculous that he still had this effect on you, even watching him eat his sushi was somehow endearing and distracting.

“…Are you going to elaborate on that?” He asks, trying to hide his smirk when he realizes you’re staring at him.

“I’ve decided I don’t really want to talk about the case anymore.”

He raises his eyebrows, “Really?”

You nod, “Really. Could really use a good cuddle, actually.”

He tosses out your empty sushi containers, “I might know a guy who can help with that.“

You raise your eyebrows, "Oh yeah?”

He nods and grabs your hand before tugging you towards the stairs, “As long as you promise not to leave the bed from now until the morning unless it’s for food.”

You smirk, “Anything else?”

You’re in the bedroom now and he pushes you back on the bed, “Yeah. You let me be the little spoon occasionally.”

He barely let’s you settle yourself before he collapses onto the and wraps himself around you, “Deal.” You agree just as you feel his lips against your skin and his hand slide gently under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“Your skin’s really soft.” He murmurs and his breath makes goosebumps spread across your body.

“Do you wanna talk?”

He pulls back and looks at you, “About what?”

“You… Your work.”

He raises his eyebrows, “My work? You mean where I spend my days trying to think of more poetic and sonically pleasing ways to convey how much I love you?” He’s kissing your neck again and it’s hard to focus.

“No, I’m serious, Harry.”

He pulls away and rests his head on your stomach, no longer kissing you. You gently run your fingers through his still damp hair to try and soothe him. “I just feel like I’m never going to live up to this pedestal everyone’s put me on. And I hate the idea of disappointing my fans or, well, anyone really. Especially you.”

“Baby, come on, you’re never gonna disappoint me. Let’s be real.”

“I am being real.” You can see this is genuinely bothering him, “I don’t know what to do.”

“I think you should talk to people who know more about this than I do. But if you want my advice, I think the music you believe in has always been your best work.”

He crawls up to you and presses his lips to yours, slow and gentle, “Thank you, love.”

“You’re welcome,” You murmur, "Can I hear any music yet?”

He laughs into your mouth before nibbling on your lower lip, “Absolutely not.” You pout at him and he runs his thumb over your lip, “Stop that.”

You stare him down until you can’t keep a straight face anymore, “Hold me, please.”

He obliges you and reaches to turn on the TV and an argument ensues about which movie to watch, but it doesn’t matter because you fall asleep in his arms a half hour later.

***

Ron walks into your office and sits at the seat across from you. After a moment you look up and notices he’s smiling. Smiling like he did the day the cops found the underwear. You put your pen down and then fold your hands in front of you, “What d’you got?”

“You remember ages ago when we hired a psychologist to evaluate our client, but she refused to go?” You nod, “Well, it looks like she showed up there on her own today to be evaluated.”

You frown, “Is she okay? She wouldn’t have gone there unless she was desperate for help.”

“The psychologist doesn’t think she’s a danger to herself or anything, but she did call me and gave me the results of the evaluation.” He smiles, “Are you ready?”

You stare at him, “Obviously.”

“She has PTSD, the psychologist is willing to testify that if we need her to. She also advised us to be careful during the trial because seeing the defendants may trigger her.”

“What happens if she… gets triggered?”

He shrugs, “Could be anything, panic attack, mental breakdown, flashbacks to that night.” You sigh. “But this is good, I mean, she wouldn’t have PTSD if it didn’t happen.”

You shake your head, “They can argue that it could be from anything, that she had it before that night, even. It might prove she was sexually assaulted, but it doesn’t prove they did it.”

“But with the underwear and everything, I think it’ll put enough doubt in the minds of the jury.”

You nod, “Maybe. It might be enough. Thanks, Ron.” He stands to leave just as there’s a knock at your door and Sophia’s there and someone’s waiting behind her. No, not someone, Harry.

“Sorry to bother you, but your fiancé said he needed to speak with you privately.”

Harry walks in and Ron and Sophia leave, closing the door behind them. You frown and walk towards Harry, “Is everything alright—?”

He grabs you and pushes you against the wall, his mouth colliding with yours in a frenzy. Once the shock wears off, you kiss him back, pulling at his hair. His hands begin to push up your skirt, and that’s when reality comes crashing in and you pull away, “Harry, what are you— What’s going on? Did you come here just to have sex with me? Because you know I’m busy and—“

He sighs, “No, no, I just wanted to start this off positively.”

“What are you talking about?” You’re more confused now than ever.

“Before I tell you, I want you to remember what a loving person I am and how much I care about you—“

“Harry!”

He sighs, “My mum just called and… they didn’t want me to tell you, but her and Gemma have insisted on throwing you a surprise bridal shower—“

Your face falls, “No… No, I don’t want that, didn’t you tell them—“

“I did, but they insisted. They’re also worried because the wedding is in six months and you haven’t picked out your dress yet.”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but for a few seconds nothing comes out, “I’ve been busy.” You say quietly.

“I know, sweetheart, and I understand, I do, but… They won’t listen to me. And they feel like they have to because of the situation with your— your parents—“

“I don’t have parents.” You say harshly.

Harry just nods, used to the way you react when they’re brought up, “Yeah, that. So… They’ll be coming down next week to help you pick out a dress and then throw you the bridal shower and then they’ll be gone, I promise, just give them two days, Sunday and Monday. Sunday will be the shower and then Monday to pick out a dress, okay?”

You sigh, remembering that you promised Harry you’d put him first sometimes, “Fine, but if I have to take Monday out of work, then I’m staying late Friday to make up for it.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Really? That’s it?”

You frown, “What do you mean ‘that’s it’? Aren’t you mad I’m going to be staying late?”

“To be honest, I thought I’d have to give up my Saturday with you, but this is much better.”

You give him a small smile, “Well get out of here before I change my mind then.”

“Give me a kiss and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You already got far too many kisses when you first showed up here, if you remember.”

He pouts and comes around the desk to get closer to you, “Just one? Just a little one?”

You laugh and quickly press your lips to his, “Now go.”

“One more, just one more, love?” And he’s kissing you as you laugh until you finally push him away and he backs off, a smile on his face that causes his dimples to make an appearance. “See you at home. Love you.”

“I love you too.” You say before he disappears out the doorway. You look at your desk, an opening statement beginning to be drafted, and then back at the door.

***

“Harry! Wait!” You catch him in the parking lot, out of breath, carrying your belongings. He turns and when he sees you with all your things he smiles. “Let’s go to the beach.”

He walks to meet you and takes a bag out of your hands before kissing you, “That sounds perfect.“

All right, everyone, buckle up: it’s the Workplace AU.

There are no superheroes. There are only board meetings. And coffee.

Bruce is the serious and completely competent CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He’s well on his way to making the company a Global 2000, but… there are some hurdles. 

His staff. They are the hurdles. 

Most of his employees are either hard workers or unremarkable. It’s the few who who can’t be lumped solely into either category that are the problem.

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