#I hope I never have to drink that liquid torture for as long as I live

[justcallmecj]

Don't Play With Love Potions

"Is it bad I'm curious what the guys would do if someone slipped alovepotion into their food/drinks as a prank, and reader was the first person they saw?" Courtesy of- Luna the shiny eevee (On Quotev)

Anyway, I randomized a boy and got Jack! There was no specific person in that comment, so I hope they won't mind that I chose one of the boys myself! (Lots of flustered and embarrassed Jack!)

        Potions class was kicking his ass. It's like Crewel just suddenly decided to throw a shit ton of information at the class out of nowhere and wanted them to be able to do everything on short notice!

        Now, potions class may not be Jack's best subject, but he's never particularly struggled with it. All he had to do was pay attention and study, when need be, and he'd be good. Someone must have done something to Crewel for him to suddenly torture his students.

        But all that is what led Jack to be where he is now. In the potionology classroom, hunched over a book of recipes, ingredients strewn about the table and some red-ish colored liquid boiling in a cauldron. For the most part, everything was going according to plan. He'd been practicing and studying the potions and retained most of the information without any problems.

        Then, his friend Y/N came into the room. His sharp ears immediately caught onto their entrance, and he turned to greet them.

        "Hey Y/N! What brings you here?" he asked while putting down the vial he held in his hand. Y/N walked over to him and placed down their bag.

        "Nothing much honestly." they said. Their wings spread out wide behind their back and their tail curled around in front of them. "I heard that you were studying in here and thought I'd come keep you company!" Y/N pulled out a laptop from their bag and placed it on the table as they sat across from Jack.

        "Well, thank you. I don't mind the company as long as you don't distract me." Jack joked, causing Y/N to laugh. They waved a hand dismissively as they reassured Jack that they wouldn't distract him while he was working.

        Seeming to remember something, Y/N reached into their bag again and pulled out a plastic bag from it. "By the way, Ruggie asked me to give this to you." they said as they handed the plastic bag to Jack. He took it and pulled out a ham and turkey sandwich. "He said he made a little too much food today and made a sandwich for you with some of the leftovers. He ran into me while trying to find you and asked me to give it to you."

        Jack took a bite out of the sandwich and realized how hungry he had actually been. Usually, he gets a snack after school, but he didn't since he stayed behind to study. Happily, he had a few more bites and left what was left for when he's done with work.

        Y/N giggled watching Jack garble down the food like he hadn't eaten in days. Jack pouted at their teasing but just pushed it to the back of his mind.

        Jack and Y/N sat in comfortable silence and did their individual work for a good 20 minutes when Y/N noticed that Jack had stopped moving. They moved their laptop to the side and tried to get Jack's attention.

        "Jack? Hey! Are you okay? Jack! JACK!" they kept waving their hand in front of his face, but nothing could snap him out of this strange trance. Not even his ears twitched at the yelling and calling of his name. Y/N's worry only increased when Jack's eyes closed, and his head hit the table.

        They stood up and rushed to his side and shook his shoulders. Slowly, Jack got back up.

        "Jack?! Are you okay?? What happened!?" He held his head in his hands and shook around, trying to wake himself up. He still had yet to respond to Y/N. After a few moments, groggily, he finally spoke.

        "Yeah, yeah, I'm....good..." His words were slurred, but coherent. That was enough to stamp down Y/N's worries a tad. He finally gained the strength to look up. His eyes met Y/N and stayed there, like he was stuck. If Y/N didn't know they had impeccable eyesight, they would have played off the faint, pink swirl in his eyes as their imagination.

        Something wasn't right, and Y/N knew it.

        "Hey...you're really pretty, you know that?" he said, snapping Y/N from the spiral of thought in their mind.

        "W-what?" Y/N stuttered. Why would he suddenly say that? Jack looked away and hid his face by his shoulder. A faint blush crept up his neck and he mumbled something to himself that Y/N didn't bother to try and understand.

        "I said...that you're really pretty." He was still facing the other direction. "I-Is there something wrong with me saying that??" Jack asked, he turned his head back to face Y/N and willed himself to look them in the eyes.

        Once they looked closer, Y/N saw the difference in Jack. It definitely wasn't their imagination. There was a pink color in Jack's eyes, it swirled and mixed with his gold eyes, pulsing at times and sending ripples through the mixed color.

        There had to have been something in that sandwich Jack ate.

        "Jack? How do you feel right now?" Y/N waited for a response but didn't let go of his shoulders. Jack was slow to respond, seemingly distracted by looking at Y/N's eyes.

        "I feel...just fine.." he stalled. "But I feel like kissing you.." That caught Y/N off guard. They felt their face heat up and their brain failed to think straight. Jack's words seemed to finally hit him. His cheeks grew pink and his ears laid flat against his head. Despite the embarrassment, he didn't back down. He continued to stare Y/n in the eyes, even if it made the blushing worse.

        Y/N finally started to understand what may have happened and now Jack's sudden words made sense. A love potion. A potion that induces and increases a person's love. It typically lasts for a couple hours, five usually, but can be more or less depending on the strength of the potion. People also tend to be a lot more...verbal with their feelings when under the potion's effects.

        Jack confessing he wanted to kiss Y/N really didn't help Y/N ignore the feelings they had for Jack that they preferred to keep down.

        Y/N's liked Jack for a long time now but was too scared to admit it. They didn't know if he'd return the feelings and didn't want to risk ruining their friendship. But due to the current circumstance, they could indulge a little, right? Chances were high he'd only have fuzzy memories once the potion wore off, and then Y/N could just play it off as trying to help him with the potions effects if he asked. One method to get a potion like this to wear off quicker is to indulge the person.

        What if he does end up remembering? What would I do then? He'd hate me after that. There's no way he wouldn't.

        There's only one small detail Y/N forgot about love potions.

        They can't create feelings, only enhance already existing ones.

        Jack seemed to lose whatever patience he had. He got closer to Y/N's face, which snapped them out of their spiral of thoughts. He just stayed there, staring. Y/N didn't know what to do.

        "Can I?" he asked, his voice was filled with emotions, some of which Y/N had never heard from him. It took a moment before they understood what he was asking. He genuinely wanted to kiss them. Would he be saying these things if he wasn't under the potion's effects?

        Y/N nodded.

       Jack moved forward, all the way until his lips connected with Y/N's. His ears stood up again, and his tail wagged even if he tried to stop it. Y/N wasn't doing any better controlling themselves. Their tail uncurled and swished behind them. Their wings twitched and the longer the two stayed like that, the more the wings flared out.

        Y/N gently pushed Jack back a bit. He wasn't the happiest with that action but did nothing to stop it just in case. Y/N turned away from him, intense blush covering their face. The sight made Jack blush, but he also chuckled at them. Y/N got even more flustered and pushed Jack more forcefully as well as hit him on the top of his head, but it was a gentle hit and lacked the force to hurt.

        "Jack...I think we should be careful about this." Y/N finally managed to say. Jack raised his brow in confusion.

        "Why?" he asked. Y/N could hear the tad bit of hurt in his question. Crap. He's not in a clear enough mind for me to tell him about the potion, he'd reject the idea. I need to come up with an actual reason. 

        "Is t-this really something you want to do out in the open?" Y/N asked. Jack brought his face closer again and Y/N stumbled to elaborate. "I-I mean!" they took a breath, "shouldn't we go somewhere where it can just be the two of us? To avoid being interrupted!" For the Sevens sake, that shouldn't have been as hard as it was, nor that embarrassing!!

        "I guess..." he started. Y/N watched as a resolve settled in his eyes. He swiftly put away the potion ingredients he was studying, stuffed his books into his bag, carefully put Y/N's stuff in their bag, grabbed both bags and latched onto Y/N's wrist, pulling them out of the potionology room.

        Y/N didn't know where Jack was dragging them, but they didn't put up a fight about it. Eventually, Jack came to a stop, forcing Y/N to do the same. They found themself at the door of an empty classroom. With a final tug, Jack pulled Y/N into the classroom. He placed both of their things by a desk and motioned for them to sit down. They obliged. They scooted over so Jack could sit too. The seat was plenty long, so there was plenty of space. (It's like the desks you see in the lessons of the game)

        He took the seat and faced the front of the room, not Y/N. They took the initiative to break the ice.

        "Jack, why are we in here?" they asked, placing a hand on the others shoulder. There was no way they could miss how Jack's tail wagged at the contact. He turned to Y/N, and Y/N caught sight of his current condition on full volume. His cheeks and a bit of his neck was fully pink. His face scrunched up with embarrassment. The potion was doing all sorts of things to him, and he didn't understand to the same degree that Y/N did.

        He quickly reached for Y/N's hands, holding them in his own, then using what seemed like quite a bit of willpower to look them in the eyes. Y/N met that stare with some embarrassment of their own.

        "I don't really know what I'm doing right now, but I'm going to keep going with it until something happens!" he shouts, more to himself than to Y/N from the sound of it.

        He let go of Y/N's hands and pulled them into a tight hug. Y/N was stunned with shock as Jack tightened the hug slightly. He was clearly pushing himself to make sure he didn't chicken out and embarrass himself further. Once Y/N had enough time to process Jack's actions, they returned the hug, pulling their wings around their conjoined forms and encasing the two in a protective cocoon.

        Now in the cocoon, his heart rate, which Y/N had been listening to since the potion effects started, slowed down considerably from what it had been this whole time. His grip loosed just a bit, he seemed more at ease. He knew how large Y/N's wings were, and he was sure that no one could see him from the outside with the way they covered him. It let him calm down.

        He pulled away just enough to properly speak to Y/N. "Sorry," he mumbled. He nuzzled his head into their neck a little, which tickled but Y/N stayed still as to not freak him out. But they did allow a small giggle to escape their lips. Jack, upon hearing this, huffed and nuzzled further into their neck. This only gave Y/N more reasons to giggle and laugh. Eventually though, they took pity on the poor wolf.

        "So, did you bring me in here just to cuddle with me?" they asked, Y/N really was curious to know if that's all Jack had planned. He pulled his head back and stared into Y/N's eyes. That pink from earlier swirled around in the gold again. Y/N had come to realize that it was a tell-tale sign that the love potion was doing something.

        Jack closed the space between the two again and locked Y/N into another kiss. Thankfully, they were a bit better prepared this time for the feeling and how it effected them. Jack pushed into Y/N more than he had the first kiss. Y/N made sure to keep their wings up and around Jack, wanting to make him feels as comfortable as possible.

        After a good while of long kisses and a few pecks on the lips mixed in, Jack let Y/n go. He backed up, but not far enough that Y/N had their own personal space again. Their noses brushed against one another whenever either breathed a certain way.

        Jack looked kinda out of it. Like his brain was still caught up in the middle of the make out session that just happened. "....I love you," he muttered under his breath. "I have for a long time, but I didn't know how to say it." Y/N was utterly shocked. They didn't know what to say.

        The boy they'd been heavily crushing on for months, the same boy they had watched from across the table at lunch every day, the same boy that was right then practically sitting in their lap, red all over his face, eyes half lidded, and had just made out with them not even a minute ago, was now sitting there and confessing that he loved them. It was a situation they had played out in their head countless time, but never expected to come true. But it had. What else can they do-

        "I love you too, Jack." they said breathlessly.

        -but seize the moment?

        Those words excited Jack. He looked up with a brand-new vigor in his eyes. He lit up, pushing himself up. His tail wagged fiercely behind him, and his ears flicked in every which direction. "Really!?" he shouted, a little to loud for Y/N's powerful hearing and how close he was right now. They giggled, nonetheless.

        "Yes, Jack. I feel the same way, have for a long time." He basically jumped at Y/N, pushing them backwards and forcing them onto their back against the long seat of the classroom. He laid on their chest, practically beaming with joy and love. This is my new favorite face for him.

        He finally settled down and rested his chin on the middle of Y/N's chest. Not far from their face, but not too close for it to feel claustrophobic, especially since they were still cocooned.

        They both just sat there and stared into each other's eyes, admiring the one they loved. Y/n watched as the pink swirl in his eyes got faster and faster, curling into itself before finally fizzing out and disappearing. He smiled differently than before, a smile that could leave anyone with no doubt, that he absolutely loved Y/N.

        "I love you." he said.

        "What are you laughing to yourself about?" Leona asked Ruggie with clear annoyance in his tone. Ruggie, who had been hunched over the counter with and open bag of bread, leftover lunch meat and a now empty glass vial with a bit of pink residue on it, made one more giggle before looking his dormleader in the eyes. He adjusted himself to be leaning against the counter more comfortably.

       "You remember our little conversation about how annoying it was to watch our Dear Dragon and Little Wolf pin each other for so long without realizing they both liked each other?" he asked. Leona looked him up and down like he may have lost it from all the laughing.

        "Yeah, it was annoying and starting to get on my nerves. What about it?" Ruggie reached over and grabbed the empty vial. He held it up to Leona, who grabbed it and put it up to his nose. He blanched from the strong smell the moment it hit him. He knew exactly what potion this was, he remembered the class where he made it for some test vividly.

        "Well, I think I found a damn good solution. And all it took was a sandwich and a little errand from Y/N." he laughed that signature laugh of his. Leona couldn't help but chuckle along with him. Finally, the ever-painful shows of pinning between Y/N and Jack were being put to an end.

[dearmantis]

So I stayed in the darkness with you

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x wife!Reader

Summary: When you finally wake up and the joy of seeing your husband alive and well dies down you have a conversation you've always wanted to avoid.

Warnings: mentions of death, murder and violence, mentions of grisha persecution, this is not a healthy relationship but they love each other very much, slight gaslighting, mentions of human trafficking

Word Count: 3.6k words

Authors Note: I really thought I would never write this, but I'm having a rare moment where I crave comfort. Also, a few people asked for this (and apparently, some people cried after part 2??? I'm so sorry about that I hope you guys are alright now!). I think this is the end of this? Its not the ending I expected when I first wrote the A lost embrace one shot but it is where we ended up. I hope you guys like it :) I'm not a native English speaker and this isn't edited.

The title of this part (and the name of the series) is from Cosmic Love by Florence + the Machine

Previous Part | Masterlist

When you wake up, it's to the sound of a few birds chirping outside and waves crashing against rocks. You don't open your eyes for a while, instead choosing to enjoy the soft atmosphere around you, letting yourself glide into consciousness slowly and carefully.

It's warm and soft, wherever you are. You feel safe.

Your arms and legs still feel a bit sore even without trying to move them, so you simply breathe in and back out, enjoying the fresh air that faintly smells of lavender, salt and rosemary.

With every minute you spend laying there, eyes still tightly closed, you notice more things around you.

A weak breeze moves the leaves on a tree outside. Occasionally, you can hear muffled steps coming from somewhere other than wherever you are right now. Someone other than you is in the room, fabric rustling quietly when they move. You're not afraid.

It takes a while until you feel ready to try and open your eyes, and when you do, your gaze imediately and instinctively move to the chair next to your bed where your husband is waiting for you, his dark eyes glued to your face and a glass of water in his hand. He's not wearing his kefta, you notice. Just a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Not a single speck of gold is visible on him.

A small smile charms itself onto your lips before you can stop it.

"Do you feel ready to rejoin the world of the living?" he asks quietly, waiting for your nod before reaching over to hold the glass of water against your lips.

You empty the glass quickly, your dry throat desperate for any kind of liquid. He takes the glass away slowly, moving to fill it up with more water before placing it back against your lips.

You drink three glasses of water that way. That's how much you need to drink to banish the itching from your throat. Damn those soldiers.

"How long... how long was I asleep?" You ask after Aleksander places the glass back down on the nightstand next to the bed. He doesn't respond for a while, instead moving carefully to check if your body is fully tucked in and warm under the thick blanket covering your body.

"Two weeks," He answers finally while he shuffles around. "You were woken up a few times to make sure you eat and drink, but I doubt you remember that. Fedyor thought it was best if your body got time to recover energy on its own. The two weeks in the cage, the torture, the starving and dehydration, lack of sleep, and even the healing took a huge toll on your body."

The Shadow Summoner moves back to his chair, but before he sits down, he checks if your pillow is fluffy, his gaze awfully serious considering his current task.

Letting the information settle for a bit, you look around in the room you're in. You don't recognize where you are. The old, dark wooden floors are new to you, just like the walls decorated with small drawings and letters you're too far away from to read. When you look outside, you see the ocean.

"Where are we?"

Your hand moves to grab Aleksanders wrist before he can step back to sit down on his chair again, carefully pulling him closer towards you. He looks tired, deep shadows visible below his dark eyes. He needs to rest, probably more than you do, considering you apparently slept for two full weeks. A small, amused smile finds its way onto his lips before he carefully moves to sit down next to you on the large bed you're occupying. You move to give him space, encouraging him to lay down instead of sitting.

"I'll be more relaxed if you're next to me," you reason when he tries to argue, and the mighty, dangerous Darkling gives in, slipping under your blanket and resting his head next to yours on the pillows. You're still mad at him, a deep-rooted hatred for him burning deep in your chest, hotter than the sun itself, but feeling him next to you is nice. It almost feels safe.

Once he settles down, he answers, his voice even quieter and softer than it was before.

"In Fjerda. Kenst Hjerte, to be exact."

Ulla. You're with Ulla. Outside of Ravka. Away from everything he has built. Away from his sun summoner.

"Ivan is still in Ravka with a few others to make sure that no Grisha are left in cages. The rest is up here."

You want to say something, like acknowledge the fact that it must've been almost impossible to move a large group of Grisha through Fjerda undetected, but you don't want to interrupt him. He has that far away look in his eyes, and you assume this must be the first time he's letting himself actually work through and think over the events of the past month.

"Ulla wasn't particularly excited to see such a huge group, you can probably imagine. She has never been fond of company, after all, but she accepted it as long as she could stay away, and I don't tell anyone about her presence."

A smirk appears on his lips, and his eyes find yours. "The last bit that convinced her was the absence of Baghra, of course. As soon as she found out that she was still in Ravka, she was suddenly alright with everyone staying as long as the group doesn't pull attention towards the islands, and no one get's close to her."

Mirroring his smile, you watch him for a few seconds, carefully turning your body to lay on its side.

"So we're hiding again."

Aleksander opens his mouth to respond, probably ready to justify his decision, not realising that he doesn't have to. You're glad. Disappearing back into hiding is arguably the first sensible decision he has made since the sun summoner showed up. You're just surprised that he got to this decision himself. He's usually not someone who admits defeat, at least not without you forcing him to. You expected him to do something stupid, like try to fight the entire First Army and the Sun Summomer on his own and get killed in the process.

"I've never really been in hiding before, not since I was a child, at least. Most of the others never had to be. This will probably be really weird, but I'm excited to learn. Are we going to stay here or move somewhere else?"

He seems a bit surprised by the fact that you're not against his decision, pausing for a few seconds to study your facial expressions before he answers.

"I hope to stay here as long as possible, but we have to be prepared to leave any minute. I hope that Ivans group can collect the last Grisha that don't want to serve Vasily and come up here without attracting too much attention, but it's impossible to tell if that will work out."

You nod slowly, carefully putting together a picture of what has happened in the month that you've been out of the loop.

"Do you think there's a risk that Vasily could find out that we're hiding here and tell the Grimjer family? Maybe as an offering of some kind to kindle peace between Ravka and Fjerda and end the war?"

The darkness that flickers in his eyes for just a second makes clear that he has thought about that possibility as well. It would make sense, after all. Give up the Darkling, his wife, and the Grisha that side with them in exchange for peace. You are all considered enemies of the ravkan royal family anyway, so it wouldn't be a loss for Vasily.

"The risk is always there, but I have hope that the preparation of the royal wedding will distract everyone enough to make sure that we can get everyone out of the country without anyone noticing. The people want to celebrate their sun queen and hope for a better future. It should be easy for skilled soldiers to get through and out of the country unnoticed."

It takes you a few seconds until you realize what he just said, and when you finally do, a confused frown appears on your face.

"Sun queen? Is Vasily marrying Alina?"

Aleksander nods.

"And you're not... you're not on your way to rip him to shreds and take her for yourself?"

He let's out a long, loud sigh and turns his head to look at the ceiling, choosing to stay silent for so long that you start to believe that he's not going to respond at all. The only proof that you have that he's actively thinking about his response are the shadows slowly crawling over the floor and walls, swallowing the room and covering you under the familiar blanket of his very own darkness.

You have spent many private moments like this, cloaked by his powers, including your first kiss, your first time sleeping together, and your wedding night. As long as he controls his shadows, you will always have a home.

When he finally does speak, it's soft and light as a feather, his voice drifting through the air like an ancient melody.

"In those two weeks where I was convinced I would be too late, that you were dead, I learned something very important about myself."

Behind him, the shadows crawl up to cover the window, swallowing the last bit of light in the room.

"You are part of me the same way the shadows are part of me. Even if I hate you and you hate me, I can't change that. Losing you would be like losing a vital organ. Even if you chose to despise me for eternity, to never speak to me again, I need to be around you. I'm not fully myself if I'm not with you, sweet girl. You are part of me, just like I hope I am part of you."

You can't see him, but you can hear how he turns his head to look at you. "You can hate your heart and your powers as much as you want, you can't get rid of either. You need both to survive. And I need you the same way."

If anyone else, literally anyone else in the whole world had said this to you, you would've laughed so loud that you could still hear it in the Fold, but hearing those words come out of Aleksanders mouth, especially in that tone, makes you pause.

You know how he sounds when he lies, how his tone shifts to make every word sound just a bit smoother, a bit more convincing, but none of those signs are noticeable now. It's just his voice, in the same, normal, serious tone he uses during important discussions. The same tone he uses when he marries you once every hundred years.

"I have waited many centuries for the sun summoner. I can wait a few more if that means I can keep you with me."

The shadows retreat from the window, letting sunlight back into the room, but they continue to cover the walls, floor, and ceiling.

The light shows you his facial expression, the warm smile that softens his features and smooths the wrinkles in his skin.

"And what if I don't want to stay with you?" You ask quietly, afraid that you could shatter the atmosphere if you speak too loudly. "You hurt me a lot, Aleksander. I don't think I can do this again. What do I do if you randomly decide that you actually want the sun summoner more than me? If you leave me behind? What do I do if she dies and a new sun summoner appears in 300 years and you fall in love with them as well? I can't be your little bed warmer that fills the space next to you until your sun summoner comes back. I'm not strong enough to go through this again. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years, not in a thousand years. I can't do it again."

You try to turn away from him, but before you even get the chance to move, he wraps his arm around your torso and pulls you on top of him, every inch of your body touching his. His large hands cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"What can I do to prove to you that I will never leave you again?" he asks earnestly, and you can't stop yourself from whispering as you harshly move your head to escape from his grasp, your voice so quiet that it barely makes a sound at all.

"Kill Alina"

Your husband laughs, this time louder, amusement clear in his gaze as he grasps your face once more to make sure your eyes meet his.

"What was that, little wife?"

"What?"

"What you just said. You said something about Alina."

"No, I didn't. What are you talking about? Why would I talk about her while I'm lying on top of you? You must be hallucinating because of how exhausted you are." Your face contorts with mock concern, and Aleksander scoffs, swatting your hand away when you try to touch his face the way he's touching yours. "You should really sleep, my love. This isn't healthy for you at all. Come on, let's sleep. Good night."

You lean forward to press a quick good night kiss onto his lips – more of a peck than a kiss, really – when his grip on your face suddenly tightens, a loud squeak leaving your lips as he pushes you off of him and positions himself above you, switching your positions.

For a few seconds, you just stare at each other, taking each other in for a few seconds until Aleksander slowly bends down to press his lips against yours.

It's a soft kiss. Slow and sweet with an underlying bitterness that you want to ignore but can't.

His weight on you is familiar despite the fact that he isn't crushing you into the mattress the way he usually would, holding himself up with his arms to keep the majority of his weight off of your still recovering body.

When he finally lifts his head and ends the kiss, you smile at him for a second before seriousness washes the softness from your face.

"I'm serious, Sasha. You hurt me. A lot. And I'm not strong enough to withstand this again. If you want your sun summoner, tell me now. I won't even leave, I promise, so you can just tell me. I just want to be prepared, please." Unshed tears fill your eyes, turning your sight blurry as you stare up at your husband who simply watches you, his own face focused solely on you, face blank like a sheet of paper as he listens to your words.

"You left me. After more than 200 years together, you left me for a child. You lied to me and deceived me, pushed me to the side, and ignored me. Two centuries of partnership thrown away because of her. How am I supposed to ever trust you again?"

You regret letting him turn you now. Sitting on top of him gave you a bit of strength, made you feel stronger and bigger than you really are, especially right now in your weakened state. Now you feel small, caged in by his body and his watchful gaze that you're unable to escape. Pathetic, that's how you feel. You should be stronger than this by now, yet here you are, fighting back tears like a child.

"What if you suddenly decide you want her instead of me in a year or two? Do I have to put myself into a life-threatening situation just to remind you that I'm apparently important to you? What will it take next time? All of Fjerda hunting me? Getting sold like cattle in Ketterdam? Experiments in Shu Han? Is that what needs to happen to keep you interested in me? Because that's not worth it, Aleksander. I love you, I do, but I deserve better than that."

He doesn't react for a while, his eyes simply studying your face while he thinks over his response. After a few minutes, he lets himself sink down next to you, laying back on his side, his gaze still glued to you.

Aleksanders dark eyes do not move from you for what feels like hours, taking in every pore, every wrinkle, every bit of texture, taking his time to catalogue every single milimetre of your face in his mind.

He watches how you try to blink away your tears, angry at yourself for showing weakness in a moment where you have to be strong, and he hates himself for pushing you so far away from his heart that you feel like being vulnerable around him, showing weakness in from of your own husband, is a mistake.

He watches you bite your chapped lips, tearing the flesh and covering your front teeth with a bit of blood. An act of self-punishment or a nasty habit you may have developed while he was occupied with Alina? He hates himself more for not being able to answer that question.

It takes a while, but then his hands move to cup your face, holding you like a precious gem, his rough hands suddenly softer than cotton.

Aleksander doesn't tear up like you do. His hands don't shake, and his voice doesn't break when he speaks, but you can feel his sincerity ringing in the air like a bell.

"I'm sorry."

He apologized several times when he found you. Panicked, pained apologies filled with dread and relief and more fear than anyone should be able to feel. But now he's calm. He's not scared of death ripping you out of his grasp in the next minute, isn't trying to lift some of his own guilt off his shoulders before you die in his arms. He had two weeks of processing his thoughts on his own. He had time to think over every mistake he has made, and he intends to right them, starting with you and what he has done to you.

"I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like you weren't enough. I'm sorry for acting like you aren't enough. I'm sorry for forgetting how much greater you are than me. You are and will always be the most precious thing in my life, the most wonderful thing the making could've ever given me. I am a foolish man, but I should know better than that. And you shouldn't forgive me. I do not deserve forgiveness, but I can't help but hope for it anyway. I pray that you find it in your endlessly kind heart to give me one last chance. If you do, my love, my beautiful, wonderful, perfect little wife, I swear I'll make you queen. I will end the Lantsov line and kill the sun summoner and give you the country we once called home. I will give you anything you want, I promise it."

A loud sob tears through your throat, tears running freely over your face and soaking into the pillow below you as you listen to him bear his old, rotten heart and soul to you.

"I don't want the throne," you rasp out. "I just want you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"I know. And I failed to give it to you, but I promise that this will never happen again. Kill me if it does. Stab me in the heart while I sleep, poison my food, slit my throat. I swear that I will not defend myself. Bring my head to the Apparat and let him turn you into a Saint if I betray you again, my love, but please give me this one chance to prove myself to you. I will not fail you again, I swear it."

You almost laugh at that, but the shimmering in his eyes stops you before you can even smile. It's like he's fighting himself to make sure he doesn't cry, reminding you that this is serious.

"I will actually do it, you hear me? If you betray me again, I will rally the Grisha against you. Ulla, too, while I'm at it. They like me more than you anyway. I'll chop your head off and give it to the Apparat and become Sankta Y/N of the dawn or whatever they end up calling me. I'll make sure there are thousands of paintings of how I murdered you. And I'll make it seem like it was easy, too. I'll tell them I overpowered you effortlessly and cut your heart out while you confessed your love to me or something. All of Ravka will make fun of how you died. It'll overshadow the horror stories about the Black Heretic. You will become the joke of a whole nation."

He smiles softly. "I would expect nothing less of you, my love."

You mirror his smile weakly, eyes flickering down to his lips twice before slowly leaning in. Aleksander waits for you, refusing to move while your breath ghosts over his lips.

"Are you sure?" he asks, waiting for you to decide what to do. The tension between you two is heavy, your nose filling with his oh so familiar scent with every breath you take.

"I am," you answer almost silently. "I don't forgive you, not yet. But I think I can give you one last chance. I think I can do it."

Laughing weakly, you continue, "Especially now that I'm allowed to murder you if you betray my trust again."

He hums, his nose brushing softly against yours as he waits for you to confirm your decision.

When you do, your lips pressing against his, it tastes like ash and death, like destruction and poison and chocolate and peace and promises.

It tastes like sin. It tastes like coming home. It tastes like love.

Taglist: @budugu @purebloodwitch @hells-escapees @savagejane1 @deadunicorn159

[tsumtsumrry]

Hii love your writing so much. Do you have the subrry one from your old account? The link on there doesn't work anymore :(. I think it was called "oh my days" or something like that?

hi hi thank u so so so much ily. and yes i do have it! here's part 1 and 2 🤍🤍🤍

part 1:

"Truth or dare? You guys are children." you snort out a laugh as you sip from your bottle of beer, relishing in the way the cool liquid slides down your throat.

"C'mon it'll be fun. We've finished all our work and we have nothing better to do." Tyler, another co-worker says, twisting a pen in his hands with a way too excited look on his face.

"Fine. Okay, Tyler. Truth or dare." You say, your eyebrows raised at him in a challenge.

Harry's frozen, staring at you in longing. He loves that hint of mischief in your eyes, he hopes no one can tell how hard he's staring or how turned on he knows he's about to be.

Harry's sure he's in love with you. You've been working together for so long and it’s hard not to fall for you when you spend that much time together. He loves your sense of humor and your assertiveness. He loves the way you can take charge and look so classy while he does it. He just absolutely adores you. 

“Truth.” Tyler finally decides. 

At this you smirk, “is it true that this is completely stupid?” you let out a laugh and so does everyone else while Tyler just rolls his eyes at you. 

“Fine if you don’t want to participate, I’ll ask someone else.” he swivels around his chair, looking around at all your co-workers, trying to decide who he wants to torture next. 

“Ah, Harry,” he decides and you can visibly see poor Harry suck in a scared breath. 

“Uhm...sure.” he says quietly, running his index finger under his nose twice. A habit you’ve picked up on. “Truth” 

“When’s the last time you’ve had sex and the position or role. Go!” Tyler says quickly and Harry’s jaw drops in bewilderment. 

His face twists up and he opens his mouth to speak, “Do I really have to answer that?” He cracks his knuckles nervously and you fight the urge to pout in sympathy for him. 

“Yeah dude, S’truth or dare. We’re all adults.” Tyler says like it’s obvious. 

“Okay uhm...okay. Like a month ago and she was erm...she was on top.” You can see his face flush with embarrassment when he says it. 

Your eyebrows raise at him and the same time the entire office erupts in hoots and cheers. They’ve obviously had too much too drink. 

“Wait wait wait,” Tyler interupts, “on top like how?” 

“She was on top. Dunno how else to sa―” 

“Like was she...in control?” He probes and it seems like Harry sinks lower into his seat. 

“Yes.” he barely mumbles. 

“Oh my days! I would’ve never guessed.” Tyler snickers, not in a mocking way, just genuinely surprised. Like he said, you guys are all mature adults. 

After truth or dare, you see Harry packing up his stuff, you try to fight off the urge to go up to him, but you fail. And before you know it, you’re walking over to him in quick strides. 

“Hi, Harry.” you say calmly, a complete contrast to the nerves you’re currently feeling. 

“O―oh. Hi. Sorry are you waiting for―let me get out of your way.” he rambles quickly and when you chuckle he stops in his tracks. 

“No, Harry. I came here to talk to you.” 

He swears if you say his name like that one more fucking time he’s going to come in his pants. 

It’s the way you’re talking to him, in that cooing “soft-dom” tone. Surely you know what you’re doing. 

“Is it okay if I ask you about what you said during truth or dare earlier?” You ask and he nods quickly.  “Mkay.” and his heart stops when you smile. “You’re a bit...submissive aren’t you?” you ask. 

Harry has to close his eyes and take a deep breath of composure before he responds. You look down to his pants and your mouth parts when you see the beginning of an erection. 

“Mhm. Yeah.” he almost whimpers, looking at you with pretty doe eyes that you want to commit to memory forvever. 

“Should we test that out?” you whisper in his ear and he fucking shivers. 

“Please.” 

part 2:

You don't exactly remember every step it took to get here, but you're in your bed, Harry laying on top of it, begging for your touch.

"Fuck. Please touch me, please. I'll do anything." you can hear the strain in his voice

“You want me to touch you, Harry?” you whisper, watching as he squirms a bit more. He just wants the friction so bad, he needs to feel your touch. He’s sure he’ll go insane without it. 

“You’re so adorable.” you say, leaning down to let your index finger toy with his tip. He inhales sharply and bucks his hips up, begging for more, he’s whispering “please” over and over under his breath accompanied by sobbed out whimpers. 

He’s reeling, because he’s dreamed about this for so long. As much as he was in love with your personality and you as a person, he was also infatuated with the thought of how you could make him feel. There were so many nights that he fucked his fist to the thought of you making him feel so good he lost all sense of reality. 

“You’re teasing, you’re teasing and I can’t―can’t take it. Please.” 

“Can’t take it?” you taunt and he fervently shakes his head no, his mouth dropped open to let out pained pants, “you’re gonna have to. Take it, baby. I know you can.” 

“Need you.” he whimpers but it sounds more like he’s crying and you pout sympathetically at him. 

“Poor baby.” you take pity on him and swing your legs around his waist, straddling him. 

You lower yourself down, gasping when your bare core makes contact with his cock. His sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes practically roll into the back of his head put a satisfied smile on your face. 

“Oh my god...please.” his words slur together now, “need more. I need more, please give it to me, I need it.” he whines, his hips thrusting up unevenly, tyring to get as much friction as he can. 

He’s so desperate is the thing, he’d do anything to just be inside you, have your warm walls wrapped around him as you take everything he has. It’s all he can think about and the way you’re just sitting on his cock isn’t helping to quench the thirst at all. 

“Please?” a single tear drops from his eye now, his lips jutted out in the cutest fucking pout you’ve ever seen. 

You’re teasing yourself just as much as you’re teasing him, you want him inside you so bad. He’s so big and you have a feeling his knows how to use his cock just right. You won’t lie and say you haven’t imagined it before. 

You take ahold of his cock and he lets out a relieved moan. When you position him so he can slide right in, his chest starts to heave, he’s just so ready for you. 

Then you finally sink down onto him, and it’s unlike everything you’ve ever felt before. 

He moans loudly before the rambles start, “thank you thank you. Oh my god, thank you. You feel so fuckin’ good. S’never felt this good.” He tries to thrust up into you but you push down his hips. He whines but you shush him. It’s like he didn’t hear you because he starts to beg anyways. 

“Let me, let me. Please let me. Can’t take anymore.” another tear falls from his eyes and some sadistic part of you loves it so much, “you’re bein’ mean. So mean.” 

“Shhh, baby. S’okay. Let me ride you.” you whisper and he whimpers and nods agaisnt the mattress. 

You start with soft grinds, watching as his mouth drops open and his eyes flutter closed in relief, “oh...thank you.” he barely whispers. 

“Such a good boy for me. Took everything I gave you so well.” you practically moan out. 

“Mmm. Yeah. M’your―your g-good boy. Jus’ wanna be good. Always...always good.” he whimpers, his words starting to be difficult to get out. This is exactly how you want him. A wreck for you. 

He feels so good inside you, hitting all the right spots and you are turned on beyond comprehension. You’ve never felt anything that feels as right as this does. His little whines and whimpers are making you so wet, the pure ecstasy on his face and the way his mouth is dropped into a cute “o”. He’s so fucking erotic and you’re not sure if he even knows. 

It’s when you start to bounce a little harder that he really loses it, his eyes fight to stay open and the preassure at the bottom of his belly is honestly becoming to much to bare. He grabs your hips with such a tight grip that you’re sure it’ll bruise tomorrow. 

He thinks he’s close but he honestly has no idea how to distinguish the feeling from everything else, you’re just making him feel too good for him to think. 

“Baby I’m...think m’gonna. Please. Please can I?” he mumbles out incoherently, looking up at you with doe, glassy eyes. 

“Can you what, love? Use your words for me.” 

“Wanna cum. Inside you. Gonna cum inside you. Let me?” his whimpers are becoming more frequent and raising in volume, he’s so close and he just wants to come for you. 

“Cum inside me, pretty boy.” you whisper in his ear and that’s all it takes for him to break. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck. M’so close. Need’a cum. Need―oh please.” he rambles, desperately chasing his release. You allow him to buck his hips up into you, and you coo at him. 

“Yes, baby. Cum for me.” 

He starts to whimper, “m’a good boy.” over and over under his breath and you practically melt on top of him at how adorable he is. It’s one more buck of his hips before you feel him start to unload inside of you. You moan along with him, loving the feeling of him filling you up. 

“Such a good boy.” you moan. 

When he finally comes down, you brush his hair out of his face, wait for his eye contact, then you start to bounce on top of him again, chasing your own orgasm.  “M’all...all done. Please. S’too much fuck.” he whimpers. 

“Mm...don’t think so” you smile as you completely overstimulate him, “you’re gonna make me cum, baby. Get to work.” 

[julesthequirky]

Hunted: Chapter One

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: Drinking with a handsome man at the bar wasn't all that bad. Until it was. Now, you're trapped with a man you don't know, in a place you don't know, where noone can hear you scream. You're starting to think that this was his plan all along. He mentions a brother, and you hope and pray that if you make it out, that you don't meet him.

Warnings: Non-Con (Rape), Explicit Graphic Violence, Super dark fic, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Graphic Description, Non-Consensual Touching, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Forced Non-Consensual Orgasm, Forced Blow Jobs, Kidnapping, Psychological Torture, Physical Torture, Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Asphysxiation, PTSD, Murder, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killer Sam Winchester.

A/N: Please. For the love of God, if any of the above triggers you. Do NOT read. You are responsible for your own mental health and the wellbeing of yourself.

W/C: 1,354

The din of the bar was exactly what you needed as you sat and nursed your beer. It had been a long day, with co-workers competing in some stupid in-office competition, and like sharks, they were out for blood. It just so happened that they all thought you were bait. To make matters worse, the guy you were meant to be seeing stood you up at the last minute. But thankfully, tomorrow was Saturday.

Sighing, you checked your phone for the time. Damn, it wasn’t even late, yet it felt like you’d been here forever. Spose you could finish up—

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You turned at the intrusion of your thoughts. Damn, the man sitting beside you was fine. Finer than fine. Fucking gorgeous even. Bright green eyes with lashes that made you envious. His pink, pouty lips curled into a smile matching the cheeky glint in his eyes.

 “C’mon, drink with me,” he nudged you and gestured for the barman. “Two tequilas, thanks.”

The barman nodded, turned, and took two shot glasses from under the bar to the counter. He grabbed a tequila from behind him and poured the shots. The mysteriously gorgeous man handed over the cash and picked up a shot glass.

How could you say no?

You picked up the glass, clinked it with his and downed the shot.

“To new friendships.” He said, raising his glass and downing the shot.

God, even the collum of his throat was hot.

He drank with you, keeping up with you shot and shot. By the fifth shot in, the booze began to affect you. Blinking, you swiped a hand down your face, feeling a little woozy. Best to slow down.

You asked the barman for a water.

“Aw, come on. N’aw. A water? Doll, you don’t mind me callin’ you that, do you?”

A quick shake of your head had him continuing, his body inclining towards yours.

“Nah, you’re done yet, doll. C’mon. Another round.”

He slid closer, dragging the stool along with him. His knee touched yours, and then he let the side of his leg press against yours. Pleasure sparked along your veins, rushing across your skin. You hitched a breath in, and he smiled at you. He placed a hand on your knee.

“If you want a good time, I can be that guy for you.”

His breath hit the shell of your ear, voice drawling, sweet as molasses.

He was what you wanted. To do. Just for tonight.

You nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Well, alright then.”

He ordered another round, and you tipped it back, letting the liquid slip down your throat, forging its burning path down to your stomach, where it stayed, warming you from the inside. After that round, you excused yourself to the bathroom and made your way to the restrooms.

Fingers clammy, they rubbed your forehead, intent on relieving some of the wooziness. It wasn’t bad. You had all your faculties, and could still walk, think, and talk, at least even with a slight slur.

You hadn’t even asked the man his name. Was it too late now? Did it matter? You shook your head, determining that it wouldn’t matter. You’d have fun, which would be the end of that. You’d never see him again, and you’d take your birth control just as usual.

You flushed, washed your hands and returned to the bar, where he sat, with that damn charming smile. He was out of your league. You knew that. But right now, you didn’t care. He had his red flannel sleeves rolled up, revealing toned and tanned forearms. You just betted that this man would look good in just about anything. And maybe even in nothing.

He had another round lined up.

The thought of another tequila round had your belly cramping and your throat constricting. Nausea trying to claw its way up.

You shook your head. No, you’d reached your limit.

He nudged you with his shoulder.

“C’mon…just one more. That’s it. Think you could do one more? Just for me?”

Damn. He was so charming. Flashing you those emerald greens. Shit. Your fingers twitched as they neared the glass shot.

“That’s a good girl.”

You willed the nausea to cool it. Taking a few breaths and steeling yourself, you tipped the glass back and forced the burning liquid down. Fuck, the aftertaste had you shuddering and coughing into the crook of your elbow. Fuck. That was nasty. Had it always tasted like that? Or maybe you just didn’t have the stomach for tequila anymore. You swiped your lips with the back of your hand, the cold sweat building in your skin as the nausea worked its way back up your throat.

“Shit….”

“Keep it down, darlin’.”

He leant closer, fingers tucking hair behind your ear, hand cradling your cheek.

“In a bit, we’ll get outta here. Sound like a plan?”

You nodded, breathed through the nausea fightin’ you. And won. He flashed pearly whites at you, those fucking fanfiction lips nearing you.

“I got stood up.” You admitted. Admittedly, you weren’t sure why you were telling him this. Probably the alcohol loosening you up.

He shook his head.

“He’s a loser. I would never stand you up. Fuck, you’re too pretty. Forget about him. You got me now.”

He pressed soft, plump lips to your forehead. It was sweet. And nice. And exactly what you needed after your recent dating mishaps.

You turned to flag down the barman. For a water. And you swayed, vision swimming in front of you. You put your hand down on the counter and breathed. Fuck, that last shot had tipped you over the edge. Way over.

“Think, I should go.”

Holy fuck. You struggled to get the words out. Perhaps you had been more drunk than you thought. The words sounded so fucking sludgy in your mouth, tongue numb.

The man nodded and slipped off the stool. You did the same, almost body-slamming into him. He grabbed hold of you as you rested a hand on your head.

“Woah, easy there, tiger.”

“Sorry…” You could barely get the word out as he chuckled lightly, hand gripping yours and turning you towards the door.

“You’re alright, darlin’. I gotchu.”

Yeah, he had you. One strong arm wrapped around your back, the other hand in yours. Your feet stumbled as he helped you out of the bar.

When the cool Kansas air reached you, the wooziness in your head felt so much worse. You tripped on the man’s feet, and he hoisted you up, helping you towards his pickup.

“Whoopsie Daisy.”

You didn’t feel so good. With every bumbling step, your head felt heavy. Body weakening.

He eased you into the truck, almost propping you upright like a doll, your head lolling back against the headrest. He followed suit after you, closing the door.

“Just be nice to me.” You murmured as he peppered kisses down your neck.

“Oh, darlin’, I’ll be nice. I’ll be the nicest.”  He grasped your chin with his thumb and forefinger and pressed a kiss to your lips as his hand slid up your thigh.

“Mmnnph.”

You covered his hand with yours, stopping his path.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Green eyes swam in your vision, and the cabin of his truck spun. You closed your eyes.

“I don’t…” You slurred, struggling to get the words out and having trouble opening your eyes.

“Darlin’, just relax. I’ll make you feel good.”

Feel good, yeah, you didn’t feel so hot. Every part of your body felt too heavy to lift, to move. The man gently shirked your hand from his and roamed higher, slipping under your skirt.

“Don’t... feel…good.” You mumbled.

He laughed softly. “You gotta give me time, darlin’.”

No. No. That’s not what you meant.

His voice was beginning to sound like you were underwater. Your eyelids fluttered as his fingers slipped under your panties, touching your core. He kissed you, and you gave back badly timed kisses, fighting the deep lethargy assailing you, but it took over in moments.

You passed out in his truck cabin with him finger fucking you.

[tessatales]

The Sins of the Winter Soldier Chapter 5

Pairing: Bucky x FReader

Theme: waking after a seizure

Warnings: none really, this is a calmer chapter than the last 😂

A/N: Hey! Sorry i disappeared- Christmas and all that jazz 🤷🏻‍♀️ Here’s the next part! I hope you enjoy ☺️ (if tone/tense is off I’m sorry! I struggled with this chapter for some reason)

Tags: @scott-loki-barnes @kandis-mom @identity2212

Chapter 5

Your eyes felt like lead weights as you tried to pry them open, hesitating only when the copper in your mouth made itself known. It was a putrid taste you’d never got used to in the years you’d been held by Hydra. And their training and torture had only made you hate the tang more. Knowing what came next, you reached blindly for a drink, keeping yours eyes shut tight as you tried your best to keep the impending headache at bay.

“Whoa there kid, what do you need?” Tony’s voice came all to loud in your sensitive ears.

“Water. And less shouting” You groaned as you continued to paw the air until a cold glass pressed itself into your hand.

Bringing the glass to your lips, you drank greedily as you felt the cool liquid wash the headache away. Once you were sure it was safe, you opened your eyes, each one feeling heavier than they should.

“Hey there, how are you feeling” Steve said as he came into focus.

Much to your dismay, everyone was in the medical bay you occupied. Each Avenger seeming to look more concerned than the next.

Guilt hit you hard as you looked at each face, the tiredness and worry seeming to age them all. Slowly, you sat up, allowing the help that came your way as you wiggled your way up the bed.

“What happened? How long have I been out?”

“About 12 hours-” Natasha answered as she rested a new pillow behind you.

“And we were hoping you could tell us what happened” Sam said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, his usual happy go lucky demeanour absent. You frowned, wondering what you could of done that warranted so much concern.

“You controlled your power” Wanda said as she rounded your bed, the team shifting in the small room to allow her past.

I did? You ask in your mind, reaching for the Witch as she settled next to you. Wanda nods, a small, prideful smile gracing her lips.

“You took the book from Dr Spellman and suspended it in a forcefield I can’t even access” Wanda continued out loud, her expression bright as she squeezed your hand lightly.

“It was only a matter of time before the apprentice became the master” You joked, smiling at the Witch.

“Can you remember anything at all? Maybe how you controlled the magic?” Wanda asked, leaning to sit beside you on the medical bed.

Thinking back to before the surge felt like trudging through quick drying cement, each mental step feeling harder and heavier as you tried to remember.

“I remember hearing Bucky-”

Saying his name out loud snapped you out of your memories, your focus razor sharp as you bolted from the bed.

“Whoa there! Where are you going in such a hurry” Steve said with raised hands, his tone lighter than the look on his face. You quickly dodged him though, ignoring your lack of shoes as you began to race down the corridor.

“I need to know he’s alright!” You shouted at the bewildered group as you left, your steps never slowing even when you heard the raised voices of the medical staff you passed.

- - - - - -

You only noticed you’d been changed into your pyjamas when you skid to a stop outside the Pit, the baggy flannel top and shorts allowing the cold of the underground floors to seep into your bones. With a shiver, you activate the door, watching with bated breath as the metal slid open.

Bucky was sat on his bed, his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand as if the weight of the world rested upon him.

To your relief, there was no sign of the chair or robotic arms that had held him only hours before, and due to the serum coursing through his veins, the bloody and bruised marks on his wrists were nearly completely healed.

“Hey” You said softly as you walked the final steps onto the observation deck.

Bucky moved like he’d been shocked, his whole body shooting from the sitting position he was in. Before you could comprehend it, he’d eaten up the space between you, his body now merely inches from the force field that kept you apart.

“I’m alright.” You confessed with a smile, watching as he seemed to asses you from head to toe. You weren’t sure, but it looked as if Bucky was almost blushing as he took in your bare legs.

“Cold?” Bucky asked, his voice rough. You laughed, pulling the flannel tighter around yourself as you spoke.

“Yeah, I didn’t realised I’d been changed into my pyjamas before coming down here. I’ll be fine though” You replied, watching as his eyebrows knit together.

“Anyway, I should be asking you if you’re okay.” You said with mock scorn, hiding your hands in the extra large sleeves of your flannel as you looked around his cell. Bucky waved off your concern, rubbing his wrist against his stomach almost subconsciously before showing you the yellowing bruises.

“Had worse” Bucky replied simply, his voice becoming stronger the more he spoke. Without meaning to however, you flinched, the thought of him experiencing worse making your stomach roll with nausea.

“Sorry” Bucky said in a whisper, his eyes dark as he watched you. You shook your head, trying your best to shake off the images in your head.

“What’s with the outfits? Is this the next step in your recovery?” You ask with a fake smile, trying to lighten the mood as you gesture towards the pile of clothes beside his bed. Bucky nodded, looking between himself and the pile in question.

“Why haven’t you changed yet? Can’t decide?” You continue, thinking out loud as you look at the pile of clothes again. Bucky nodded, his expression almost lost as he gazed at the bundle of clothes.

“There’s a pretty cool flannel in there. We could match. Plus it would look nice with the red t-shirt and those jeans” You say after a moment, gesturing to the clothes in question as he continued to stare.

“Then again, I might want to steal it once you’re out of there. So wear at your own risk” You threaten with a laugh, the sound dying on your lips as he looked at you suddenly. The emotion swirling in his eyes killing the words on your tongue.

“I wouldn’t mind” Bucky replied on an exhale, the sound so quiet you almost missed it. Feelings began to tug in your stomach as you stared at the former Winter Soldier. The only indication he was as rattled as you being the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got four very angry doctors ripping the very fragile egos of the Avengers apart upstairs because we let their patient run straight past us” Bruce said with a smirk, shooting a glance behind him as he wandered into the room.

“Blanket?” Bucky asked, no longer looking at you as he directs the single word question at Bruce. You frowned, wondering why he’d need a blanket when he has plenty in his cell.

Understanding comes quickly when a thick grey throw is draped over your shoulders, the front being tightly secured around you by the scientist.

“He’s right, you’re shivering.” Bruce answered your silent question and you take notice for the first time the lack of feeling in your legs from the cold.

“Why is it so cold down here?” You ask through now chattering teeth, taking hold of the blanket now as you acknowledge the cold.

“We’re that far underground it’s impossible to warm the whole room, so we just heat the cells and the surrounding deck. But the decks currently offline.” Bruce replied with a half shrug, his other arm around you as he attempted to rub some warmth into you.

“Come on, before someone else’s ego gets bruised, Sam looked like he was about to cry when I left” Bruce joked, turning you towards the exit.

“I guess I’ll see you later” You say to Bucky as Bruce guided you away, his arm loose against you as you walked. Bucky nodded, his face half shadowed as he raised his hand to wave.

*Bucky’s POV*

Bucky tired his best to beat the unfamiliar feeling down as he watched the scientist guide Y/N away. His arm draped loosely over the woman’s small frame causing something inside Bucky to churn with raw emotion he didn’t want to identify.

He was not jealous.

He couldn’t be.

He didn’t deserve to be at least.

“Monsters don’t get happy endings”

Chapter six can be found here

[lazycats-stuff]

Jason Todd x male!reader

REQUEST: Ya it has to do with Jason Todd x Joker's son meeting in a club and alcohol heats things up between the two, maybe they had feeling for the other but ignored it? Also, PART 2 is here

This request was made by xweirdo101x, one of my followers. Thanks for the idea and let me know if this is okay. I may or may have not taken this in another direction...

The club was loud, packed with young people who were either dancing or drinking until the point of passing out. Jason simply sat at the bar, drinking his drink and enjoying the distance from the wasted crowd on the dance floor.

Not even Jason knew why he was here. It was spontaneous, seemingly out of nowhere. He didn't have anything to do tonight in regards to patrol. He didn't have any criminals to take down tonight. But he was slightly restless, so what better way to make that restlessness than going to the club?

It was little over midnight and Jason still wasn't able to get rid of that restlessness. He sighed and took a long sip of his drink. The alcohol burned, but it went down smoothly. He licked his lips and glanced around the club, a habit he couldn't get rid off. Although, a good habit and necessary for his... Profession, a term he always used loosely. There was no profession like his family's.

His head throbbed from the vibrations and now he wondered why he even came here. Upscale and posh clubs are not his favorites. So what drew him here? Who knows... And he maybe needs a night off...

He took another sip of his drink, finishing it. He called a bartender over, asking for a refill. The bartender nodded and started working on a refill. Jason took another glance at the crowd, eyes widening slightly once he saw a face he never thought he would see here. It was (Y/N), Joker's son.

He still remembers the shock he had when he found out. And Bruce was caught completely off guard too, he looked like he was going to have a stroke. That was the first time he saw Bruce drink. They did more research on (Y/N) and it turned out that he had nothing to do with Joker and it seemed like Joker knew nothing about (Y/N).

Jason checked him out. His (H/C) hair, his (E/C) eyes that shone differently underneath the club lights... And his body was just- Jason sighed and took a sip. No. That is the son of the man who tortured him, broke him... He can't think that way about him. Innocent or not, involved or not, he shouldn't think so about (Y/N).

He looked up to the ceiling for a moment, hoping for a sign. And sign came. The sign was (Y/N). He sat down next to Jason, completely unaware of Jason chaotic train of thoughts. What did fate have in store for him tonight?

He looked at (Y/N) from the corner of his eye. The photo that they found while investigating doesn't do him any justice. It should be a crime to be this pretty.

Jason blinked a few times. What the hell did he drink? How strong was this alcohol that it made him think that way? He looked down at the bottom of his glass, looking through the liquid.

You know what, what the hell. If something happens, then so be it. Another sip to ease his nerves.

" You come here often? " Jason asked the man next to him.

(Y/N) chuckled in response, turning to look at Jason.

" Really? "

" What? " Jason feigned innocence. " It's a classic one. You can't go wrong with a classic. "

" You are right, but the amount of times I heard that line is astounding. If I had a penny for every time I heard that, I would be filthy rich. " (Y/N) joked, taking a sip of his drink.

" Well, I was going to offer you a drink, but I don't even know your name. " Jason said, tilting his head.

" (Y/N). And you? "

" Jason. " He answered, calling a bartender over to order a drink. Jason order, guessing by the drink that (Y/N) had ordered before.

" So Jason, what brings you here tonight? I just can't see you as a guy who goes to clubs. " (Y/N) asked him, leaning back into the bar chair.

" And you are right. I felt... Restless tonight. " Jason trailed off, taking his glass, never taking his eyes of off (Y/N).

" And you? " Jason questioned (Y/N) now.

" I think I needed a night off, just to let loose and have fun. I had a stressful week at work. "

Jason hummed, nodding and then took a sip of his drink. He knows (Y/N) worked in a big company. It made him feel weird, knowing so much about (Y/N) and yet he doesn't. He felt like he was on a mission, like he had to take him down. He didn't like it. Forget don't like, he hated it.

" Can I ask where you work? Or is that considered creepy? " Jason asked, smirking a little.

" A shipping company. It's boring, but it pays well. You? "

Jason nodded. What was he going to say? I am Red Hood, a masked guy who runs around and beats criminals? Yeah, not happening.

" I work in security. "

" Would you believe me if I thought that you worked in that line of work. " (Y/N) said chuckling.

" Is it the muscles? " Jason joked, taking a sip.

" Well, yes and no. Yes, you need to be strong and in shape to work in a security, but the no part was from your gaze. You looked like you were... How to put it... It looked like you were on guard, like you can't really relax. "

Jason stared at (Y/N), tilting his head. (Y/N) was right. No matter where he is, he can't relax. He is always on guard. Curtesy of Batman and his training.

" How about we go dance? " Jason asked (Y/N), desperate to change the subject.

" Sure. "

They stood up, moving to the dance floor. The DJ has put on something heavy and sexy. (Y/N)'s back was on Jason's front, with Jason putting his arm around his waist. They grounded against each other. (Y/N) truly let loose, grinding against Jason's front. And Jason... Maybe he has to let loose to... Maybe he needs to learn how to let his guard down for a moment, just for a moment to enjoy life.

Just maybe...

Jason allowed his hands to wander down (Y/N)'s body, moving with the rhythm and the beat of the music. They danced like that, not caring for anything in the world. Jason closed his eyes, feeling the beat and (Y/N)'s body shape. Maybe it was the alcohol, but maybe it was the atmosphere and maybe it was (Y/N)...

Either way, he is going to let loose. Truly let loose.

(Y/N) turned around in Jason's arms, wrapping his arms around his neck. He was smaller then Jason, almost by a head. Jason kept his arms around (Y/N).

The smaller male stood up on his toes, almost wanting to kiss Jason. Jason thought for a moment, before saying fuck it to himself. He leaned down, capturing (Y/N)'s lips. They were soft and he pushed his tongue into (Y/N)'s mouth. (Y/N) was compliant, allowing Jason to take the lead.

Jason didn't expect to find himself kissing the Joker's son. Far from it. He should have stopped when he asked to dance. He really should have.

He moved from (Y/N)'s lips as if they burned him. No, he can't do this. This is a mistake, probably the biggest one of his life.

" I can't do this, I can't... " Jason said to himself, turning from (Y/N) and essentially running from the club, not breathing until he was far enough from the club. What in the actual hell?

What the fuck?

He rubbed his face and sighed. What did he do to himself? No, WHY did he do this to himself? Why? He needs to get home, he needs to get to the the apartment and just... Forget about (Y/N). He truly needs to do that.

Maybe even go on patrol...

Jason shook his head as he walked back home. It was dark, the only light being the street lights. If only he could hide in that darkness, away from this situation. If only.

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

King of Your Heart

Chapter 13 "Let Me Suck Your D*ck in the Bathroom"

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

summary: All that Frankie has ever wanted to be was your everything. After years of being best friends one phone call changes everything between the two of you.

inspired by The King by Sarah Kinsley

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader is 28-29, Frankie 38-39), friends with benefits -> situationship, Frankie isn't a dad, jealously, best friends with benefits, reader is toxic, reader wears makeup, reader has long hair, this chapter is literally just porn but make it halloween, dress code- SLUT IT OUT, smut, drinking, smut, benny's halloween bash!!, smut, frankie is fucking horny for a woman in thigh highs, smut, blowjobs, licking, oh yeah did I mention smut!, princess and frankie are like rabbits, frankie gets drunk, angst with a happy ending finally, no y/n, pet names, possessiveness, triple frontier boys, Tom is dead, reader is a flirt

an: WELCOME TO BENNY'S HALLOWEEN BASH, get ready for a lot of smut, Princess is slut for Frankie as a smooth-dressing cowboy (a little nod to our beloved Whiskey<3).

inside the world of king of your heart

playlist

series mainlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hiroikegawa

"Just sit down and I'm gonna do your hair," You patted the cushiony vanity seat, Frankie never did his hair ever. He liked his messy curls and finishing it off with his hat but tonight was the one night he would ever do this. You smiled and pushed Frankie down into the seat, your fingers combing through his damp curls, his eyes fluttering shut when you lightly scratched his scalp with your new acrylics. You looked at Frankie through the mirror admiring how he shaved his beard and trimmed up his mustache. 

"I like it that I can see your face," You hum, grabbing the comb and gel into your hands. "I get to see my handsome Frankie," your words made Frankie blush, and he rolled his eyes trying to act like he didn't care. He loves it when you tell him he's handsome. He feels like he could do anything all because his lady thinks he's beautiful. 

You smiled at Frankie and combed the gel through his hair, taming the deep chocolate curls. "Do I have to dress up?" Frankie mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him. This is 3rd time around having the conversation. It's Halloween, Frankie. It's my favorite holiday. Please for me. You've been saying since you and Frankie got back together. It's time to debut as a couple officially. "Yes you are dressing up and you are going to look so sexy," You say in a sultry tone and smile sweetly at Frankie. 

The torture was over when you finished off his hair when a good amount of hairspray. Clean-cut Frankie was something you didn't get to see often and well it was a sight to see. His jawline, his face more chiseled out, and his hair out of his face letting his features be the star of the show. Frankie is beautiful, you always thought he was crafted by a higher power. Frankie is standing in the mirror buttoning up the white dress shirt, you turn him around and take over the last couple of buttons then grab the tie to go around his neck. You take a deep breath as you loop the fabric and pull it up to his neck- fuck. 

You set the hat on top of his head and step back looking at your work. Frankie loosened the ties just a bit and your stare was burning into his skin, that's what he always liked about you, never afraid to admire what you like. "Everything you hoped for?" Frankie tilts his head and smirks, jaw dropped and lust blowing your pupils. 

"Everything and more...okay I-I need to finish off my makeup, then we are leaving." You shake yourself out of the lustful haze and step around Frankie. Focus. You dip the end of a brush into the red bottle of fake blood. Focus. Frankie watches you drip the red thick liquid from the corners of your mouth, smearing it across your face for an effortless look. Focus. Dipping again but letting the tear of blood run down your chest and leak down your cleavage. Your costume was just an excuse to wear the black Body Con mini dress that you bought months ago, so you threw on the fake blood and glued fangs to your teeth. Just an excuse to slut it out. Frankie certainly appreciates the way your best features were on display. 

Frankie comes up behind you moves your hair out of your face and gently kisses your soft neck. You sigh, holding back from the intrusive thoughts of pushing Frankie on the bed and fucking him in costume. "I need to put on my tights then we are leaving," you unwrap yourself from his arms and pull out the black thigh highs, very sheer black mesh with a lace strap at the cuff. Frankie watched you sit on the edge of the bed lifting one leg in the air, he noticed the French tip pedicure that you got done. 

The way your body was just on display for him to stare at, Frankie wanted to not leave the house at all tonight. But you and Frankie are not having sex yet, because you think it would be a good idea to date properly, not having sex until 2 months which ends Halloween, that means he can and will make a move tonight. "Princess, you just look so good to eat," Frankie purrs, when he slides between your legs, helping you secure the thigh-high, you were rolling your eyes with a smile on your face. 

"Fish, we are not having sex, now let's get to the party it's already 10!" You push Frankie away from you, grabbing your purse, beer, and vodka. Frankie took his sweet time by grabbing the keys and his beer then locking the door, settling the beer in place, and strapping himself in, checking his mirrors. You grew tired of him being childish, your hands wrapping his tie and pulling him close. Your lips melted into his, the feeling of his mustache grazing your sweet soft skin. Frankie slid his tongue to meet yours, his hands caressing your waist and thighs, his fingers snapping the top of the thigh highs making you yelp and moan into his hot wet mouth. His touch was a white flash of heat inching toward your aching core. Desperate to be touched by his calloused strong strategic fingers. 

"Let me suck your dick in the bathroom...so drive," You pull away from Frankie, buckling your seatbelt. Frankie grins pulls out of the park and throws it into drive, you laugh holding on to the door. You love seeing Frankie be playful and just a boy. Knowing that you bring that out in him brought such warmth in your heart oozing it through your veins. The streetlights guide you to the front of Benny's house, with people piling in through the one door. You quickly get out of the truck and make your way through people, just a quick hello then you are dragging Frankie to the bathroom.  

Frankie was trying to catch up with you but people held him back, it felt like he was in his 20s again trying to get into parties. Once he pushes his way through, he finds you sitting on the kitchen counter serving yourself shots while talking to Benny's girlfriend Mari. You were smiling and making faces every time you took a shot. He thought you looked so pretty in the kitchen light, "There's my cowboy," You call out to him, Mari turns around and laughs at how Frankie looked in his get-up. "Don't laugh at him, he is the most good-looking cowboy ever," You reach out for Frankie, and he takes the bottle from your hands and pours himself a shot, knocking it back. Frankie taking shots was a big deal, he was just always about getting beer drunk. 

You don't know what it was but Frankie taking a shot had to be the hottest thing ever. You watched how his adams' apple bobbed when he downed the alcohol. "C'mon baby, let's go dance," Frankie leans into you and whispers into your ear, your face burns from how forward he was being. You want Frankie to like this more. He helps you off the counter takes you to the living room and slips you guys down the hall to Benny's room. Frankie slams the door closed and locks it. You could feel the shots starting to settle in. Frankie backs you into the bathroom and shoves you facing the mirror, your hands bracing yourself from falling forward. Your core started to ache when Frankie started to manhandle you. 

You drop down to your knees and your hands quickly undo his belt and unzip his jeans, without any hesitation, you giggled when you saw the tattoo on his plump ass. You turn his hips to show you the tattoo better, you lean toward his tattoo and lick his skin. Frankie hisses fisting your hair. "Be a good girl and suck my dick," Frankie's stern tone captures your attention, and drool falls from your swollen lips. You smile up at Frankie opening your mouth, and kissing the tip of his hard cock, "Sweet girl, you like kissing my cock?" Frankie smugly coos, fists your hair, and thrusts down your throat. You gag just a bit then moaned with a mouth full of cock of the man who makes you forget all common sense. Your eyes were stinging from the salt of your tears, your hands caressing his thick thighs, just letting Frankie take control of your body.

Frankie couldn't stop himself from fucking your throat, loving the sounds that spilled out when he pulled his wet hot cock from your whiny mouth. "F-fuck baby...If I'm gonna cum then it's gonna be in your tight pussy," Frankie growls, forcing you back to your feet, you automatically bend over the sink, spreading your legs, on your tiptoes to level with Frankie. He pushes your dress up, giving a breathtaking view of your ass with a black g-string and the thigh highs gripping deliciously on your plump thighs. His thumb brushes over the tattooed skin then slaps your cheek, watching it jiggle. 

"Princess, I need you to your rub your cute little clit for me while I fuck you," Frankie feels guilty for getting you off at least one time by his mouth. His finger slid inside you collecting your wetness and using it to coat his hard cock. His cock notches at your entrance and pushes in without warning.

You reach between your legs, and first, just lightly rub your clit on the palm of your hand, just tease yourself a little bit. "I said touch yourself, little princess," Frankie grunts, pulling himself all the way out and then slamming back into your slicked hole, you let a girlish moan loving how the tip of his throbbing length hits your cervix. Your legs trembled with each thrust, the sweet spot only Frankie can reach being hit and added pressure from the counter right on your pelvis. "Ooh-YES, yes, yes, Frankie baby right there!" You let out the most pornographic scream. Frankie smiling at how fucked out you look in the mirror, eyes crossing, a smile, and tits threatening to spill over the top of your dress. 

Frankie wraps your leg around his waist, forcing you to face him. He presses his hand down on your pelvis whilst fucking deeper into you. The white-hot waves crash through your veins, your juices splash on Frankie's button-up and slacks.

"You're so fucking hot," You slurred, letting your body go limp as Frankie chases his high. "You're so sexy, Frankie...only man for me-" You gasp for a breath as Frankie spills his seed into you, feeling his cock throb and spurt out a lot of pent-up cum.  He looks down and takes in the view of your cum and his mix together leaking out around his still-hard cock and down your thighs and ass. He looks up at you, glistening in sweat and smelling of sex, the vanilla base in your perfume, and the way his cologne smells on you. 

"I love you, Princesa." Frankie kisses your forehead gently as he removes his cock from you. This is the first time he ever used, Princesa. You smile and look at him with such love and happiness. Your eyes twinkled, giving Frankie a look into the galaxy. "I love you, Francisco" 

[the-personiftranslator]

So You Want To Eat A Personification

One day, it was asked what personif would taste like.

Well, it depends on your relation to that personif, the part of the personif you’re eating, how you’re eating the personif, and which personif you’re eating. The Foundation is agreed by all to be very unpleasant except for O5-10 Kay Martin, and they drink coffee the way they drink coffee, so I don’t think they’re the best judge on taste anyway.

Meat and other bodily parts taken from a dead personif will of course be different from such sliced or siphoned from a living one. Blood often becomes tasteless, which is, according to Geog, the reason so many people in the modern day worship the HRE. They ingested his blood accidentally through the water supply.

Blood is the most common part of personif consumed, due to its significance in human culture as a whole, its relatively easy acquisition, and the fact it won’t kill you instantly if it’s your first time eating personif the way cerebrospinal fluid would. If you are eating the blood of a personif for the first time and have not had exchange for very long with them, 1) please compare your existing knowledge of the personif to the BITE model one more time to make sure she’s not actually a cultspirit because a lot of cultspirits do this to signal that you’re taken to other personifs, 2) your safe dose is less than a cup. Exact dosages that will not result in you falling violently ill vary depending on person, but generally if you start feeling nauseous, stop and drink a normal liquid.

Fat and muscle are also relatively beginner-safe parts of a personif to try. The most common places of harvest are the thighs and forearms for reasons that are immediately apparent if you look at an impact play safety guide.

Organs! Now, I hope I don’t have to say that unless you have been provided with an adequate explanation for how they were able to source organ meat from a living personif that doesn’t entail torture, you probably shouldn’t eat it and it would be wise to leave immediately and call anyone other than the SCP Foundation. Assuming you are sure the kidney on your table was sourced somewhat ethically, I’ll run through a list of some major organs and explain what they might taste like based on common symbolism associated with them. For OTJs and STJs, because NTJs don’t take as well to being eaten in general.

Eyes: they’re often crunchy like glass and may cut your mouth like glass would, but I’ve never put glass in that particular orifice of my body so I wouldn’t know. I also have never eaten an eye because the texture freaks me out.

Nose: it has been universally reported that it will taste the way the personif’s true body smells.

Lips: lecterns and mass protests.

Neck: I’ll be talking about that on @yourcityisanomega.

Heart: do NOT eat this unless you know the personif personally because you WILL die. I cannot emphasize enough that with these fuckers symbolism is everything. If you do know the personif well enough to not die, I can’t give you any pointers on the taste other than that it will be very strong, and you’ll likely feel as if you’re on the sugar high of your life afterward. Because you are. You’re high. You’re eating a creature made out of your own thoughts. You probably need to reevaluate your work-life balance. How are your children doing? Do you have children at all? Did you want to before you met this personif? (And for the love of the god that you’ve replaced with her don’t have children WITH the personif it’s got a higher chance of going wrong than fucking your sibling will and also if you know the personif that well you’re probably in charge of a major part of her and that’s dubcon by default.)

Liver, kidneys, anything part of the urinary system: it’s going to smell and taste like the wastewater treatment plant no matter what you do because that’s what it fucking is. Just don’t eat it.

Lungs: again, it’s going to taste the way the true body smells, but the texture will be much more interesting.

Anything in the endocrine system: odd choice, but okay. This is also probably a bad idea to eat as an initiation ritual because you’ll feel like a teenager all over again, and if you’re eating the adrenal glands, you’ve got a high chance of developing an anxiety disorder.

Stomach, intestines, anything in the digestive system: it might taste like actual food. Highly recommend if you’ve known the personif long enough for it not to be a shock. (I really like beef tripe so I’m probably biased on this.)

Reproductive system: @yourcityisanomega.

Brain/cerebrospinal fluid: if you’re not prepared the trip will be worse than Datura. Don’t. Just don’t. It is a controlled substance and you could be arrested, assuming you survive at all. Even a drop of the stuff can knock you out for days reliving the personif’s worst memories. And then you’ll spend the rest of your very short life doing nothing but worshipping them.

Now, why would you want to do any of this?

You might be curious—Geog definitely was. Or you might be French and this isn’t that far removed from your normal diet. But the most likely reason is that you want to ensure that someone can take you out of your personif, but they’ll never take your personif out of you. Eating them facilitates exchange and allows you a slight window into their mind, while you become more susceptible to their influence. Throughout history, many groups have drunken small amounts of personif blood to increase unity in dire situations, or larger amounts as a test of loyalty. The O5 Council requires daily consumption of Ira Siegel for a few months by those undergoing training for the position.

But exchange means letting an outside force manipulate your thoughts, and too much of it turns you into the personif’s puppet, or a very messy codependent father-daughter relationship like with Aaron and Ira. For those who don’t build up tolerance, the shock can kill.

I blame the goihumans discord server for everything.

[aziraphales-library]

hello ! do you happen to know of any hurt!Crowley fics that focus on all the little hurtful things Aziraphale has said to him throughout the years ? like examples from the show would be all the "foul fiend" stuff or "you do something, im the nice one !"

or maybe like how A always seemingly expecting the worse of C or constantly is reminding him of his demonic status as a sort of insult

hope i described that well ? basically aziraphale hurting crowley with little comments throughout the years (even if he didnt really mean them) and that building up

Hi. We have a bunch of fics like this on our #apologies tag, in which Aziraphale acknowledges and apologies for how he’s talked to and treated Crowley over the years, so do check those out. Here are some more fics along the same lines...

Worst Case Scenario by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Aziraphale keeps insisting that a Heavenly victory will be “rather lovely”, and Crowley is sick of hearing it. If Heaven wins, they’ll either destroy or torture all demons. How can Aziraphale think that’s lovely? Crowley confronts him with reality.

Loose feathers by tenebi (T)

Situation: Crowley and Aziraphale have been drinking, Aziraphale yet again mentions Crowley's nature and his “ incapacity to love ”. “I mean it’s not like you have been treating me like I am always here to personally attack you or it’s not like you have been putting every fucking problem of this earth on my back just because I happen to be there, and yeah I know I know that what demons do but I was expecting you to understand after a bit… or when you keep telling every soul that we meet that we aren’t friends” Crowley's voice began to crack, but he didn’t care anymore.

His glasses were giving him enough protection to hide the pain in his eyes and the literal pain caused by the liquid that had started to gather up in his eyes.

“ but the worst the worst is that even after everything, the 6000 years, the armageddon and the trial.. you still think I don’t-”

Six Thousand Years by Ilovecastiel18 (G)

Post-canon. Aziraphale explains to Crowley that he has loved him for a long time, he was just scared of what Heaven would think. Crowley gets angry because Hell would have done worse, but he never hid his love. He leaves to think things over and comes back with a gift for Aziraphale and an apology. Hurt/Comfort, angst, romance, fluff, love confessions.

Let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me by elf_on_the_shelf (M)

The World didn't end but that doesn't mean there aren't quite a lot of things to be addressed yet. Especially between an angel and a demon and especially after they have avoided talking about them for so long.

Looks like I am finally doing a "night at Crowley's flat" fic, two years too late :)))

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by prongsredconvers (G)

“I’m not angry, Aziraphale” Crowley interrupted him, his tone somewhere between a sigh and a mumble “I was never angry at you. I just don’t want to have dinner with you” “But if you are not angry, then why?” Crowley slowly rocked on his feet. “Because I’m tired, angel” Aziraphale stared at him. There wasn’t irritation in his voice. Nor anger. It sounded void, emotionless. Maybe a little resigned. “Tired of what?” “Of everything” the demon replied

Or: After a fight, Aziraphale understands how much he's really hurt Crowley and tries hard to fix it. Also, Crowley finally takes care of himself.

Warmth by indigo (E)

Friends with benefits really had to be the very best solution there was for any self-respecting immortal being on Earth. Handy. Convenient. The perfect way to de-stress with none of the hassle of trying to find a human willing to overlook the more demonic parts of appearance. It was reliable. Comforting even. Dependable, emotionless relief.

Perfect, Crowley thought.

Right up until the point when, well, it wasn’t.

Be warned - that last one is super angsty!

- Mod D

[agustdenovo]

Eye of the Storm (Yoongi's POV.)

➻ pairing: hyyh yoongi x hyyh jungkook AKA min cein x jeon jeha

➻ genre: hyyh!au, based in the bangtan universe, pure angst bc is it ever anything else with these two? 😭

➻ summary: Yoongi can't live without Jung Kook. Yet, the only sensible thing to do is push him away, he tells himself.

➻ wordcount: 573

➻ released: 21st of june, 2024.

➻ author’s note: my first published work here hsjfshds this was honestly just something i wrote on a whim!! but!! i hope i've done these two justice, hyyh makes me bawl every 2-3 business days :')

disclaimer: i do not ship any of the actual bts members with each other, nor will i ever in the future. this is about hyyh yoonkook, characters from the BU, NOT the bts members yoongi and jungkook.

crossposted to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56794450

I am a whirlwind of destruction. A tsunami batters my heart, my head is ravaged by perpetual sandstorms and yet no force of nature can hope to inflict even an atom’s worth of damage as I have done so already.

I am a storm, and Jung Kook is right in the eye of mine. He stands there, unflinching, and I, like a coward, decide to abandon him once more.

The light in his eyes makes me violently ill.

“Why didn’t you go see Jung Kook? Don’t you know what you mean to him?”

He said my music makes him want to live. I can’t steal that away from him.

I know what I mean to him. Of course I do, which is why I can’t let him stay. He has stars in his eyes, and I pluck them right out with the coarse words climbing up my throat, leaving my lips like dry lumps of coal. And despite every bone in my body yearning to see his teeth peek out in that smile of his again, I shirk his gaze. He calls me hyung. I call him something far worse.

I can’t tell if I’m the pathetic one for always leaving, or Jung Kook for always staying. My arms are tattered with his claw marks from all the times he refused to let me go. They’re my favourite scars. I rub my arms raw, trying to make them disappear.

“Go home, Jung Kook.”

Futile. Streamers of light from his eyes wrap around me, trapping me, glueing my feet to the ground. No diamonds can even hope to compare with his, twinkling in his waterline from the misty yellow and blue lights from nearby skyscrapers.

I curse. I yell at him to go away, but he refuses to budge. His conviction is almost as strong as my anger.

Or maybe he’s just as stupid as me, because he walks over and gives me a hug; like he isn’t the Sun itself. And I, the Moon, foolishly orbiting Terra when my existence revolves around a star.

Warmth seeps into the crevices of my heart. Jung Kook wants to save a man cursed from his very creation. Cursed to cycles of dolour, a samsara of misery. Yet, I can’t muster up the energy to push him off. His arms around me feel like relief and torture all in one. Liquid drips onto my neck. Fruitless to ponder upon its source.

Only after a long minute does he let go. I stare into red-rimmed eyes. My voice sounds unfamiliar when I choke out the same words again, and I clench my fists until my jagged nails draw blood.

“Go home.”

Tonight seems like a good night for a stiff drink. I wonder if the corner store will still be open at this time, instead of thinking about the crestfallen look on Jung Kook’s face. No matter how many times I cause it, it will never cease feeling as if a dagger were twisted into my very soul.

“Promise me you’ll come see me tomorrow.”

I turn and walk away, before Jung Kook can say more.

Maybe if I pretend he isn’t there, he’ll leave and not foolishly come back, for once.

Maybe then I won’t be forced to spit out grimy words and act like it isn’t killing me, for once.

Maybe, that way, I’ll be able to save Jung Kook from my cursed fate, for ever.

[thenightling]

Review of Interview with the Vampire episode 7.

Ever since the 1994 Interview with vampire movie, lots of vampire films and shows have made it “Fatal” for a vampire to drink dead blood, which is very odd because in Anne Rice’s novels they can’t actually die this way, it just weakens them and causes what Lestat describes as a temporary “rolling delirium”.   In the novel Lestat told Claudia to never drink from the dead “lest the death take you down with it” but wasn't actually because it would really kill them. Even in the Interview with the vampire movie, where that line exists, Lestat drinks dead blood and lives. It just made him queasy.  But for some reason after that movie lots of vampire fictions started to run with the idea that they die from drinking dead blood even though it didn't even really happen in the story it supposedly came from.  Lestat shouldn’t be spitting out blood with cancer in it!  This isn’t American Horror story: Hotel.  Too many white blood cells shouldn’t bother Lestat.   It might taste a little different but I doubt it would be disgusting to him.   Cancer means an excess of cell growth. Most blood cancers are leukemia. Too many white blood cells.   Blood is made of Red Blood Cells (erythrocytes), White blood cells (Leukocytes), Plasma (the liquid part of blood, pretty much just salt water), and platelets (the stuff that makes you clot).  So it would be like eating something with a little too much of an ingredient in a very simple dish.  Like slightly too much sugar in sugar cookies.   

Lestat made his own mother a vampire.  She was dying of Tuberculosis (consumption).  He would have tasted that in the blood too.   

Why did they add the idea that they can die of starvation? Vampires going into long-term non-feeding hibernation was a major recurring thing in the novels.  Considering Lestat’s literary taste in clothes (velvet and frills even in present day) it seems weird that he’d admire Nazi fashions.  It doesn’t even match his show tastes.

This is unnecessarily gory, there is absolutely NO point in Louis ripping off a random victim’s jaw. Ripping out eye balls.  Why?  the mutilation serves no purpose.  It’s just torture p0rn.  Not the work of Anne Rice.

 I’m a horror junkie and I recognized the music when Anoinette the vampire entered the room in her masculine masquerade costume.  That was the Dracula resurrection music from Dracula AD ‘72.   A Hammer horror movie starring Christopher Lee.   It’s the music that played when Dracula walks away after Johnny Alucard says “Master. I did it.  I summoned you!” and Dracula says “It was my will.” First they steal a song title from Fright Night / Fright Night: Part 2 and now they actually use the scoring from a 70s Hammer Horror movie.  Did they at least pay Hammer or did they hope no one would notice since it’s such an “obscure” movie?

 It’s nice to see Louis deliberately spared Lestat this time but to call Armand the love of his life is disturbing when in the novels it was actually Armand who orchestrated Claudia’s death. The reveal that Rashid was Armand was pretty predictable but the foreshadowing was deliberate.   I really hate this showrunner.  “uber romanticism.”  He calls this “uber romanticism?” Why are there so many scenes of Louis and Lestat smoking?  Anne Rice’s vampires never smoked in the books.  It’s like those smoking scenes were written by a pretentious and shallow Goth stuck in the 80s.  With most show adaptations of older books they reduce the smoking, not randomly add it because some perpetually-twelve-years-old show runner thinks it looks sexy.

I was going to be gentle about how obvious the reveal about Armand was because the foreshadowing and clues seemed deliberate and I was going to give credit that they weren’t trying to “subvert expectations” but instead probably hoped we’d figure it out.  Honestly I’m tired of subversion of expectations.  But no.  When you watch the bonus content the show runner makes it clear this was genuinely supposed to be a surprise twist you wouldn’t guess right away but... I knew since episode 2...   It was obvious.  

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort's Will - Chapter 25 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Brayden

"Mr. Primary," he says weakly.

"While I have served time under your leadership, as well as a Vampire's, my true place started and remains with humankind."

Reyo arches a brow, relaxing the blade just slightly.

"What are you getting at, Leo?"

Leo stands a little taller, breathing through the terror bubbling inside him.

"On behalf of humankind, I officially give you our surrender."

Reyo lets the words sink in, enjoying the sound of subservience.

"Humankind won't listen to you. Not after you abandoned their cause."

Almost anticipating this response, Leo holds his hands up and shakes his head.

"I never abandoned our cause," he argues calmly.

"I had to say I did, for obvious reasons. But the entire time I was undercover, my sole mission and purpose keeping Finn safe."

Reyo squints.

"Why?"

Leo gestures to my human, doing well to keep his emotions intact.

"You said it yourself, Mr. Primary. Whoever has Finn at their side will win this war. He is, as you coined him, the greatest weapon."

My eyes dance down Leo's body position.

He is tense, his heartbeat racing with every lie he tells.

This is all a ruse, a means to end this dinner massacre.

Nothing more.

If this was all were all true, he would have spoken up well before now.

No... he knew Mark and Ethan would have dispelled his lie without a second thought.

Now that they are no longer a threat, he is banking on the lie, hoping that the fear in the urinating man next me is stronger than his loyalty.

Reyo presses the blade against the man's neck again, growling close to his ear.

"Is what he said true? Will mankind listen to Leo if he surrenders?"

The urinating man clears his throat, blinking back visible tears.

"Yes, M-Mr. Primary," he stutters quietly.

"It's true. They will listen to Leo and still look to him as a leader."

His testament seems enough to suffice.

For now.

Reyo releases his hold on the piss-stained man and begins the abhorrent task of coercing a surrender from Axel's followers.

From what I know of the precious Mr. Primary, however, he has a special hatred for vampires.

If he truly has been plotting this moment for as long as he says, he will enjoy it.

Savor it.

If one can consider the death of those humans merciful, I can only imagine what horrors lay in store for my species at his hands.

Instead of approaching them with a weapon, Reyo claps his hands together.

"Guards, please dispose of the deceased. I think our other guests are ready for their meal."

The double doors swing open, just long enough for to make way for a single, silver cart to come through.

The plate ware clatters against the serving tray as the Secondary pushes it over the uneven floor.

Unlike the Secondary guards around the table, this one blanches when he sees the human corpses being pulled from the table.

His eyes follow the blood that trails behind them, mixing into the dirt floor and turning to a deep brown.

His wets his lips and tears his eyes away from the morbid scene.

With shaking hands, he pushes the cart around the table and sets small cups in front of Axel's followers.

They're filled with blood.

My nostril's flare as I pick up the owner of its scent, and my eyes narrow.

My human's blood.

Nirv's blood.

Axel's followers stare at the liquid with eager eyes.

Torture, they can handle.

Starvation of blood, they cannot.

You see, starvation puts vampires into a trance-like state.

It consumes us. A

ll logic is cast aside, every cell in our bodies force us to act, like a tether to an anchor, drowning us of our our self-control.

'Drink.'

True to our species' nature, they lean forward to take the bait.

With hands still tied behind their backs, they grip the cups with their lips and tip them back.

Their throats bob up and down as they drink my human's blood.

They finish it within seconds, spitting the cup aside and licking their chins to lap up the remains.

My human's blood is of a euphoric quality.

They have never tasted anything like it.

Soon, they will discover why.

Reyo seems pleased with the outcome, with how little coercion is needed for his other captives to fall into his plan.

"How... delightful," he whispers, eyes flickering among them.

He doesn't have the patience to watch their demise.

Perhaps, at this point, he is desensitized to it.

Either that or the promise of announcing the humans' surrender is too close to his fingertips to resist.

Reyo pushes away from the table and points to Leo, then the man with the pissed pants.

"You two," he says.

"Put on a smile. Today marks a good day. Today will forever go down as history, the first day of a new future, together. We have a war to end, gentleman. Let's move."

Leo and I share a final look before the guards surrounding us yank him from the table.

In his eyes lie the same message we have shared between one another for quite some time.

A silent promise, to keep my human safe, no matter the cost.

They move towards the door, leaving me, my human, Kelly, Tegan, another Secondary guard and Axel's followers behind.

Two of Axel's followers begin to convulse.

The third glances at his allies and realization dawns.

They drank their deaths.

My human must realize it too because another wave of sadness pushes through me in waves, emotional shackles that ties our bloodlines together.

He hangs his head in defeat but there are no more tears left to cry. Not even from my human.

"Tegan," Reyo says, yelling over the painful cries of death from my fellow vampires.

"Five minutes. No more."

Reyo then stares at my human, a look so feral and so potent that my fangs elongate in warning.

"Consider these five minutes as my final gift to you, Finn. An apology as well as a thank-you of good faith. By now, you must realize, you are mine, Finn. Indefinitely. Now that the war is coming to a close, I cannot risk having them there, constantly plotting ways to take you away from me. So," Reyo says, gesturing slowly to me, then Kelly.

"This is your chance to say good-bye, Finn. Use it wisely."

[tristaspoetry]

Echoes of Love and Madness

A masquerade of goonish thoughts floods the starry sky. It is merely a fallacy of what must be conducted under this orchestration of musical thoughts.

The sky was auburn red on this winter’s day. It was the day I met you, and it was the day I lost you. I was a poet, a revolutionary, and an anarchist, brimming with patriotism. You were my queen, a lone deserter from the back streets of some bar. You were nothing more than a beggar. Being the patriot I am, I gave you all my cash. You counted it and smiled gently. I felt like I amused you. You grabbed my hand and gently led me to your place. It was the most romantic night of my life. You did not know it at the time, but you were my first. Now everywhere I go, I see clones of you. Is it just my imagination, or are you everyone and no one?

I searched for you, I longed for you. I would even kill for you if I could find you, if I could see your smile. I would do anything for you. Yet, why do they arrest me? Why do they send me away to Alcatraz? I’m no Houdini, so there won’t be any escape. But why? Why must I be here? I’ve done nothing wrong. All I’ve done is love like no other. Is loving someone a crime in the eyes of society? Do they ridicule me? They must think of me as Humbert and you as Charlotte, yet that is far from the truth. I’m innocent. I tell you, all I’ve done is love and live like no other.

It’s been days since I’ve been in this prison. Now you’re but a speck of fragmented thoughts, swirling around my mind and ruminating in my heart. Were you a blonde Californian dancing to the peppers and drinking in the blues? Or were you a brunette from New York, drowning in snow and sipping powdered milk? You could be both, and you could be neither. You could have been a man for all I know. I don’t have the faintest clue. Who do you think I am? Scooby Doo?

Are you alive or dead? Should I be sending Holmes after you? In his opiate-dazed stupor. Yet, aren’t we all Holmes now, with the internet buried beneath an epidemic of false head musings? Do you miss me, my love? Those drowned-out guards in this impenetrable prison can’t keep us apart. I shall once again reign supreme in our mating ritual of souls.

My love, I’m remembering you less and less. I think the guards are putting poison in my food. My memory is becoming hazy, my body is weakening, and I feel my life draining. They’re giving me these pills, or candies as they call them. My love, what am I supposed to do? They say I need them to forget you, to forget my past. Why must I forget my past? Wasn’t I fit to be king? Wasn’t I a leader of men? Why must I forget you when your entire being is fully ingrained into who I am? Without you, there’s no me. Without me, there’s no world. Can’t these bumble-headed buffoons see that without me, the designer of life and purgatory, the god amongst men, this world will collapse into a state of nothingness?

I’ve been in this prison for months now, my love. The memories of you are becoming few and far between. It’s like a decathlon of mental gymnastics just to remember who you are, who I am. I remember the summer days when you would just lie in the park, listening to the mockingbirds sing. Mockingbirds? God damn it, haven’t these guards heard not to kill a mockingbird? I feel like Tom Robinson. My life is being robbed from me by the prejudiced gravediggers of society!

How the mighty have fallen! Once a mighty revolutionary, the people’s champion of hope and love. Now squabbling like the homeless denizens of downtown alleys. All I need is my medicine, my love. If I had this liquid gold, this elixir of life, I could break free from these chains that imprison me.

My beloved. My beloved? Who is my beloved? These guards here say I never had one. That’s mighty strange to think, but I don’t even know who I am. When I first came to this prison, it was dark with the sounds of torturous wails. Now it just looks like a hospital. Am I in a padded room? When I first came here, I was a revolutionary hero on the verge of a coup d’état. Now I don’t even know who I am. I only know I’m me.

What I do know now, my beloved, is that you were my burning blaze of glorious insanity. Isn’t that why they locked me up in this padded room, and I took this candy for you to disappear? Until we meet again, adieu.

My love, maybe I really am Humbert, and you are my Charlotte in this web of lies. Maybe I’m Bob Ewell instead of Tom Robinson. I’m not the mockingbird in this story. I may be nothing more than a slithering snake, but at least I was able to see Eden when I met you. Now, my dear audience of nosy gremlins who by now I assume want me hanged, think to yourself, aren’t you just as guilty as I am? You look at me from your pedestal of purity and holiness. Yet, is it not you who let this happen? Is it not you whose first instinct is to turn a blind eye if it doesn’t involve you? Is it not you who are only charitable because you fear hell? If you want monsters like me to stop, do not teach your children to judge. You know as much as I do. You want nothing to do with those you see below yourself. They’re heathens, they’re animals, you say to yourself. Isn’t that why you burned them at the stake? Is it not because they were different? Stories like mine will happen time and time again until we as a society learn to accept each other as humans and as equals, despite our differences.

support me here if you'd like https://ko-fi.com/tristaharrison

check out my blog here Shadows of Love and Madness: A Tale of Identity and Redemption — TristasPoetry

[flightofaqrow]

drunk call

qrow + James ( @caeloservare​ )

qrow listens, the concern of James’ voice and bend in his brow drawing him in. and with each word tumbling from liquor-laced lips, wine red eyes grow narrower, more skeptical.

why him? he just wanted to drink with a pal in peace. oh, right. that’s something the universe could never afford to give him.

“it’s… it’sa fairy tale, my man.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Assuming a mostly healthy woman with quite fragile posture weights around 40kg, wouldn't glass shoes break under the princess while walking? Glass doesn't stretch unless it's too hot to touch, so wearing glass shoes must have been torture. Why was the prince attracted to a girl publicly torturing herself in front of likely entire noble class? Even assuming somehow shoes didn't break and she didn't cut herself with the shards. She danced there, Qrow! Why was she doing that? What's the point of this fairytale? Why is it so widely popular? ... Gods, this is sickening." James’ concern is very serious.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

qrow listens, the concern of James’ voice and bend in his brow drawing him in. and with each word tumbling from liquor-laced lips, wine red eyes grow narrower, more skeptical.

it’s kinda cute that the man would care about this hypothetical other person so much, in such… thorough detail, but. why this?

why him? he just wanted to drink with a pal in peace.

oh, right. that’s something the universe could never afford to give him.

“it’s… it’sa fairy tale, my man,”  qrow’s hand gestures in the air as if to say so what, “they tend ta be, yanno… exaggerated. and anyway, if y’ask me - female fashion doesn’t always make sense. …or the noble class fer that matter.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Fair point, but why is it shown as romantic love story? Public torturing is passé even for noble snobs! It was for long before the Great War. Aren’t fairytales supposed to be educational? What’s the lesson here? It takes a masochist to please a sadist? Do everything you can to get attention even if it costs you your legs?”

If James had any insight into Qrow’s thoughts, he’d be a little surprised with how different they define peace. For him that was it - ability to drink himself stupid, however accidental it was, be vulnerable and be able to talk with someone, knowing that it won’t be number one issue all over tomorrow’s news. Another little secret, a moment shared with Qrow, with guard down, without regret nor doubt, knowing it was safe.

“Fairytales are awful. There’s not even fairies most of the time.” Clearly he shouldn’t, but he gladly takes a long sip from his glass. “I hope this one wasn’t Ozpin’s idea.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

qrow’s concern turns to outright laughter, if at nothing but the indignant sound of James’ voice over faeries. he giggles, gleefully, as the fourth… fifth? more? round of liquor hits him harder. maybe a ranting man wasn’t so bad after all.

as long as the rants stayed this absurd. maybe it was better to worry about these little problems for awhile than the big ones that haunted his nights and nightmares.

he pats James on the shoulder, “no faeries?” he feigns offense, “we needt’a getcha some better stories then, pal.”

he also leaves out the fact that there was a faerie godmother in that one; maybe not all versions had her.

“I hope this one wasn’t Ozpin’s idea.”

“eh,” that line brings him slightly out of his reverie. he leans away again, one long leg crossing over the knee of the other, “nah, prob’ly Salem’s.” it was nice to be able to speak openly about these things with some people. to say her name as if she were a regular enemy, and not some big scary secret.

red eyes stare into his tumbler as he swirls amber liquid and ice around in the glass, “she likes’ta make th’ damsels sound all helpless ‘n sympathetic in ‘er stories. yet somehow they’re the center ‘f th’story an’ usu’ly get what they want by th’end. Ozpin’s are more th’type t’have th’ lesson.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Some kind of mixed emotions run through James’ face at mention of Salem. There’s mostly bitter anger, but also something else.

“She sucks.” He decides out loud. “She sucks. Just like her stupid stories. We need to put an end to this. Oz and his boring lectures are way better. Superior even. Still no fairies though.” He pouts, but his face eases as his focus leaves Salem again.

“There should be fairies in fairytales. It only makes sense!”

[bloodypeachblog]

MEDICAL UPDATE

Warning: this post will discuss stuff about kidney stones, urine, medical prep, body functions, that kind of stuff. If that stuff grosses you out, you have been warned.

Ok so you remember when I said a while back that I had kidney stones? No? Well, long story short, I had 3 of em. Anyways..

A few weeks ago, I felt what I believe was a stone moving, so I told my mom and we set up a plan: take the remaining tamsulosin i had from the last stone [the date was still good] and call my doctor.

Later on, one night, I was lying in bed sleeping and I then feel something akin to trying to push something through a hole but it got stuck. The next few days, I started having pains in the lower belly area and where my bladder is.

Then the dry-heaving began. It was time to go to the doctor.

The appointment comes, doc has me do a urine test, it came out normal. But he did think something was going on, so he scheduled an IVP and ultrasound to check things out.

Well, today was that day. And yes, I had to do prep. Which was the worst pain I've ever experienced, and I've had an oblong kidney stone go through me.

Let me just say this: you should NOT fuck around with magnesium citrate. That shit is so nauseatingly sweet that you will gag or feel sick at even thinking about it afterwards. Plus it BURNS going down. Also, by any means, DO NOT DRINK IT WHILE IN A MOVING VEHICLE. (My mom was looking after my grandma, so they picked me up to go to her house since itd be a shorter trip to the hospital).

(A side note, I had to do a clear liquid diet after I took the magnesium, so I felt so envious when I saw my mom and grandma eat solid food. The broth I drank tasted like Lipton's Noodle Soup, so it did help fake fullness).

And you thought the entry of the magnesium drink was bad, wait til you hear about the exit. It BURNS. You will be ABSOLUTELY RAW. You will cry. I sure did. It stings because the liquid coming out of you is the magnesium citrate, which is a saline solution. Saline, for those of you who don't know, is salt water. SALT WATER ON RAW SKIN. Now you can imagine the pain.

Also, my grandma's house has no AC whatsoever, at least upstairs where I slept (I had to sleep there because the room I had was the closest to the bathroom). I'm also heat sensitive, so that mixed with dehydration was not a fun time. When I fell asleep, I woke up thinking I was dead because I could hardly move. But that's my fault for taking my regular meds along with a Unisom gelcap. But I couldn't sleep well because of my constant bathroom trips and the constant burning from what I said before.

Now, the actual appointment. We get there, got me signed in, and I'm taken to the ultrasound room. The lady was very nice and friendly, but when she scanned me with the scanner and she pushed down, OH GOD THE PAIN. I think it hurt more because my body was still tender from the prep, I was very tired, and I'm sensitive to pain, so I'm not blaming the woman. She was just doing her job. But I was ready to scream. Luckily it wasnt long til it was done.

Then after that, i was sent back for my IVP. What they do is, they have you in nothing but your underwear, shoes, socks, and a hospital gown and you have to lay on this table under what looks like a sci-fi machine but is basically an x-ray machine. And they put an IV in you to inject a contrast dye so they can see everything clearer. Now I've always had difficulty with IVs and getting blood drawn because of my deep veins (it's genetic!), but the lady that did it was a champ, it barely even hurt. But the tourniquets were SHEER PAIN. After all of that though, it was smooth sailing. Some re-positioning, some more pics, a few standing pics, then we were done.

After that, I was finally able to eat and go home and sleep. Guys, food is a great thing. So is sleep.

I'm starting to recover and I'm doing better than before. My next appointment with my urologist is on the 6th, so we'll see what they find.

Anywho, that's that. Imma sleep now.

[lovelybucky1]

Justice Is Blind

warnings: consumption of alcohol, friends with benefits, smut, mentions of feminization, semi-public sex, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, confession of feelings, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

The crowd in the bar grows as you take a deep breath as you raise your glass to your lips, then you down the shot in one gulp. It burns and the taste makes your stomach turn, but you’ve had a long day. You needed this.

Your case that you had spent the last two weeks preparing for didn’t exactly go in your favor. Two weeks of late nights, energy drinks, and frustrated trips to the gym, just to have your devilishly handsome legal nemesis to beat you.

Just as you’re about to flag the bartender down for another drink, someone clears their throat behind you. You turn around to find none other than Matt Murdock, your aforementioned nemesis.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks, gesturing towards the empty stool next to you. You don’t answer but he sits anyway, not really caring if you gave him permission or not.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“You have a very distinct smell… defeat with a hint of vanilla,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes.

“Did you come here just to gloat?”

Before he could answer, the bartender comes over and asks for his order. He orders a scotch for himself, and something disgustingly sweet for you.

“Whatever do you mean?” he replies once the bartender walks away.

“Dumb isn’t a cute look on you, Matt,” you scoff.

“Are you implying that something else is a cute look on me?” He gives you a smile that’s all teeth and you’re thankful he can’t see the way your eyes flutter when he looks at you like that.

The bartender returns with your drinks, and you reluctantly sip on the neon-colored liquid in the glass.

“Why are you here?” you ask him.

“Now you’re the one playing dumb.” And damn him for seeing right through you. You both know why he’s here; you’re here for the same reason, but it’s never been acknowledged. You have an unspoken arrangement with Matt; the winner calls the shots and the loser has to go along for the ride. It’d be a fine deal if it ever went your way. “I was hoping you’d wear that little nurse outfit I sent to your office for your birthday. You did receive it, right? I wouldn’t blame your secretary for keeping it for herself.” If it’s possible for Matt’s grin to get wider, it did.

“Please, if either of us are dressing up, it won’t be me.”

“I mean, if that’s what you’re into. You can do whatever you want with me when you win a case.”

“I’ll make you regret all this teasing, Murdock,” you threaten.

“Oh, I’m sure I will.”

He takes a sip of his drink and your eyes follow the lone drop of scotch that escapes his mouth. His tongue darts out to catch it and you swear you see him fighting back a smirk.

“You only win cases because you’re hot. You seduce the jury into siding with you.”

He cocks his head and reaches out to place his hand high on your thigh, not even bothering to act polite and work his way up. Cocky bastard.

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey, I’m sure your pretty face can make up for most of what you lack.”

“I want to punch you so bad right now,” you confess.

“Make me beg for mercy and you have yourself a deal,” he raises his eyebrow at you and you can’t deny how appealing that sounds, but you’ll save that for another day.

“How about we get out of here. There’s no use prolonging my torture,” you say, your voice breathier now that he is closer.

“I’ll take as much time as I want.”

As stubborn as you are with him, you honestly can’t wait to get him alone. He pays for the tab since he’s so much more successful, then you grab his hand and lead him out of the bar. You hail a cab and climb into the back seat. This is where the fun always starts.

His thigh is pressed against yours, and you know it’s purposeful because he has plenty of room on the other side of him. He places his hand on your leg, higher than before, and digs his fingers into your soft skin. He leans close to you, his nose brushing your ear and his hot breath ghosting over the side of your face.

“You make it so difficult to pay attention in court. All I could think about was getting to fuck you. Shit, I almost went to jerk off in the bathroom during recess.” He grabs your wrist and places your hand in his lap where you could feel his semi-hard cock straining against his slacks. “Would you let me fuck you in the bathroom? No competition, no bet, just you and me relieving some tension.”

His words make you shiver with anticipation. During your first few nights spent together, you would tease him for being all talk, but one thing is for certain, Matt Murdock has the skills to back his ego.

“Take your panties off,” he whispers.

“What?” you match his tone.

“You heard me.”

“Are you crazy?”

“A little. Take them off.”

You remove your hand from his crotch and pull your panties down from underneath your skirt. It’s a bit clumsy as you lift up to get them off, but it doesn’t take long before they’re crumpled into a ball in his hand. He holds them up to his face and inhales, taking in the scent of your arousal. Your face changes from confused to shocked when you see him stuff them into his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s call it a good luck charm for next time, hm?”

“I hate you so much,” you breathe out.

“You’re a bad lair.”

The cab stops in front of your building and the two of you get out just as clumsily as you got in. The elevator ride up to your floor is painfully long, but you can’t risk getting caught mid-makeout like you did a few months back. You still can’t look your neighbor in the eye. When you reach your floor, you drag him down the hallway and he leans against the door jam as you fumble with your keys.

“I could probably find the key faster than you,” he teases.

You finally find the right key and unlock the door and you lead him inside. You throw your keys and jacket onto your kitchen counter, then you turn your attention to Matt.

“Where do you-” Your question is cut off by his lips capturing yours in the rough, heated kiss. His stubble scratches your cheeks and you’d hate it if it didn’t make him look so damn sexy.

While dominating the kiss, he slowly backs you against the wall of your living room. Your heart skips a beat when your heels hit the wall, and you feel him laugh into the kiss.

He grabs your thigh and hooks it around his waist so your bare pussy is pressed against his hard cock. The contact makes him groan, and the sound lights a fire inside of you. You push your hands into his hair and tug at the roots, making him groan even louder.

“Keep that up and this is gonna be over before it starts, sweetie,” he says against your lips.

You break the kiss and move your hand down to loosen his tie. Once it’s undone, you start to work on the buttons of his shirt, but he gets impatient. He grabs either side of his shirt and rips it open, sending pearly white buttons scattering across your floor.

“I’ll clean those up,” he says before crashing his lips against yours again. He won’t clean them up, you both know that.

Matt’s hand creeps between your legs and slides between your soaked lips. He slips one finger, then two in with ease and begins to finger you, opening you up for his cock. His long fingers curl and rub all the right spots that have your knees shaking after only a few minutes.

The position makes it awkward, but you fumble with his belt and pants until his zipper is down and you can fit your hand inside. You grab his hard cock and you hear his breath catch in his throat. As cocky as Matt is, you find it endearing that he’s so sensitive. You grip him as he rocks against your hand, chasing the friction that he has lasted so long without.

You groan as your head falls forward and you rest it on Matt’s solid chest. He leans down to bury his nose in your hair, taking in the scent of your hair that he has grown to miss when you’re gone.

“Fuck, Matt, I don’t want to cum yet,” you pant as his fingers fuck into you.

“Why not?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“Want to fuck you.”

“You can have both,” he says, the smirk evident in his voice.

Matt makes it his personal mission to wring as many orgasms out of you as possible, and this time is no different. His thumb meets your clit and he rubs it while he fucks you with his fingers, and it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming around them. Once he rides you through it, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to his lips. You pick your head up to watch as he pushes his fingers between his lips and sucks your cum off of them. A whine involuntarily escapes your mouth but you don’t have the energy to be embarrassed, not when you’re still reeling and when Matt looks this angelic in the dim lighting of the apartment.

“Why don’t we move to the bed? You’re still shaking,” he grins devilishly.

You roll your eyes half-heartedly and make your way through your dark apartment to your bed. Your knees are a bit wobbly, so Matt lets you lean on him for support. The irony certainly isn’t lost on you.

When you reach the bed, you both rush to undress each other. Matt shrugs his open shirt off and tosses it to the floor, then slips his oxfords off before pushing his pants and boxers down, kicking them near his shirt. You had gotten distracted while undressing yourself, and when Matt realizes that you’re still half dressed because you had been watching him, his smirk grows.

“Are you enjoying the show?”

His voice snaps you out of your trance and you finish getting undressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say.

“All that money to go to law school, but you still can’t lie…” He puts your hands on your hips and tugs you close so your fronts are pressed together. “I can tell when you lie; your heart beats faster. I can also tell when you’re nervous.” You look up at him as his hands explore your body, groping over your back, ass, and down to your thighs. “You’re nervous around me a lot, aren’t you?” He poses it as a question, but he already knows the answer.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Murdock,” you scoff, turning in his arms. He stops you before you could break free from his hold, so you’re pinned between his bare chest and the edge of your bed.

He reaches his arm around your body and slips his fingers between your lips to toy with your sensitive clit once again. You stifle a gasp, but he heard it anyway.

“Still sensitive, sweetheart? We can take it slow,” he says, still rubbing at the same pace. The overstimulation makes you squirm, and you know he’ll slow down if you tell him to, but the torture is part of the game.

“Will you hurry up and fuck me?” you hiss, making his chuckle.

“What’s the rush? I’d ask if you have a date, but I know you don’t. You haven’t been on a date since we first hooked up. Are you afraid no one can compare to me?” His mouth is right next to your ear, whispering with hot breath that makes goosebumps break out on your skin. You can’t find an answer in your scrambled brain, so he continues. “I tried to sleep with other women but… I always came back to you. I need you as much as you need me; don’t lie and tell me you don’t.”

There’s no point in lying anymore. All of your attraction and infatuation with Matt is in the open, and apparently he reciprocates your feelings. This is a conversation for afterwards, or never, but not in the middle of sex.

“Will you be a good girl and let me give you what you need?”

“Yes,” you huff, getting more frustrated by the second.

“I want you to say it,” you can feel his smirk against your neck

“I’ll be a good girl,” you respond with the most bite you can manage.

He laughs as he pushes you down on the bed. Before you can even bounce, Matt’s pinning you down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He pushes your legs apart and slots himself between them, his cock pressed against your pussy.

“I’m guessing it’s too much to ask you to say please?” he jokes as he lines the head up with your entrance.

“Go to hell, Matt,” you huff.

“Only if I get to take you with me,” he says as he pushes into you.

It only takes one slow stroke for him to be fully sheathed inside of you, and the feeling of Matt inside you, on top of you, surrounding you, is almost more than you can handle. He pushes himself up, resting his weight on his forearm so he has a better angle, and the subtle display of his strength doesn’t go unnoticed. He keeps his head close to yours, trailing kisses down your neck, claiming you with his lips and teeth, leaving the occasional mark that, even though he can’t see it, tell’s everyone else that you’re owned. As much as you hate the thought of being owned, especially by Matt, you can’t deny that he’s ruined everyone else for you. He’s the only one you want like this.

He slowly rocks his hips against you, torturously slow, especially for the teasing that led up to this. His free hand slides down your body and grabs your thigh, keeping a possessive grip on it to keep you exactly where he wants you.

“Please,” you whine pathetically, but you don’t have it in you to care, especially not when the desperate sound of your voice spurs Matt on.

He thrusts his hips faster now, actually fucking you instead of slowly griding against you to see how much you could take.

His breath is hot and loud in your ear and you can tell this is just as much torture for him as it is for you. Matt Murdock and his masochistic streak that runs a mile wide.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers breathlessly.

“You don’t know that,” you say. Sure, you’d like to believe that Matt would think you were beautiful if he could see you, but you couldn’t be certain.

“Doesn’t matter, I can feel it. You’re -fuck- so perfect, every part of you. Can’t get enough of you.”

You don’t have to be able to hear his heartbeat to know he’s telling the truth. For the first time since meeting him, there weren’t any teasing remarks, no innuendos, no hint of a smirk in his voice.

You shut your eyes tightly and your hands roam over his upper body. You allow yourself to imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like if you couldn’t see him. You felt the raised bumps of scars on his torso, each of which probably have a wild story behind them. Despite the scars and hard muscle underneath, his skin is soft and smooth in a way that makes you sure he has some kind of skincare routine. It’s much too wholesome to think about during sex, but you can’t help but let your mind wander to a wholesome image of Matt, fresh from the shower and relaxed.

Your hands slide up into his hair and you guide him away from your neck so you can kiss him. These kisses aren’t like the ones from earlier. Gone is the desperate groping, the rough, bruising force and nipping teeth. These kisses are gentle, tender, and as he laces his fingers with yours in a firm hold, you can feel the intention behind it.

“God, Matt, I’m gonna cum,” you whisper between kisses.

“Watch your language,” he replies, because no matter how intimate the situation, Matt will always be Matt.

“Watch it for me,” you say before capturing his lips again.

Matt keeps a steady pace and slowly, you are pushed over the edge and your orgasm washes over you. You feel like you spend hours in pure bliss as Matt fucks you through it. You vaguely register him pulling out because the loss of him makes you feel beyond empty.

Once you come down from your high, you reach out for Matt but he is out of reach. You open your eyes and find yourself alone in your room. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be an issue, but you doubt Matt has your apartment layout recognized.

“Matt?” you call out, your voice echoing against the hardwood floors.

“In the kitchen!” he responds, followed by the sound of the sink running. How did he-

Before you could begin to wonder how he found the sink so quickly, he returns with a warm, wet towel and a bottle of water. He cleans his cooling cum off of your stomach, which you are grateful for being the position you were lying in was starting to hurt your back.

Once you’re cleaned, he tosses the rag to the floor, once again promising to clean it up in the morning which you know he won’t do. He joins you on the bed, under the covers for the first time. You lay with your legs tangled together and your faces inches apart. It’s hard to see in the dark room, but the light from the window catches his eyes and makes them sparkle like you’ve never seen before.

“I think we should-”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he interrupts.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” you roll your eyes.

“After all that, you still have an attitude,” he chuckles to himself. “Fine then, say what you were going to say.”

You pause for a moment because that had, in fact, been what you were going to say. You hate that Matt can predict you like this, but it also makes you feel important, that he cares enough about you to make note of the little things you say and do.

“What happens after this?” you ask instead.

“So we’re gonna talk about it,” he gives a small smile as he shifts underneath the covers. “I think… that we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

Oh. That makes your heart sink and a cold feeling of regret washes over you. How could you be so foolish to think that this was anything more than a casual hookup, and now you’ve ruined it-

“You’re more than a… prize to me. I only agreed to this bet because I didn’t think you’d actually date me, and I’d take you in any way I could get you,” he confesses.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t date you?”

“I mean, look at you. You’re way out of my league,” he playfully nudges your calf with his foot. “You just always seemed like you didn’t like me.”

“Yeah, because every time I see your stupid, pretty face, I know I’m about to have my ass handed to me in court.”

He laughs and his eyes crinkle at the outer corners, and you can’t help yourself when you reach out to touch them. He mirrors your position and rests his hand on your cheek. He brushes your cheekbones with his thumb before moving onto the bridge of your nose.

“I knew it,” he says with a smile. “I knew you’re beautiful.”