#don't think you can't burn and age your skin if you're dark

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orcs house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do next.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots and grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter. Come afternoon, and you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew tightly inside and his flask, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety. You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it too runny? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered, he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an Orc and plops another spoon full onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the Orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an Orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it? He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section and point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks which seem a darker green than before.

After that you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

<- Previous

[bunnys-kisses]

hii bunny!!! can I get a chocolate cake and whisky with seb or jenson???

bakery menu

want to order your own? take a look at the menu! there's a little something for everyone! i also write for fandoms outside of f1 so if that interests you let me know! i love getting orders! this one i chose jenson button, ever day i get seb from someone hahah, and i will write them. but thank you for the request!

chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + whisky (degrading language) served by jenson button (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk/degrading language, age gap (20s/40s), mean!jenson, brat!reader, thigh riding, masturbation, non-penetrative sex, clothed man/nude woman, couch sex, nipple play, references to spanking

jenson liked good behaviour from a good girl. a good girl meant a good life, without any troubles. but, there was something a spitfire little thing that he could fold to his pleasure and fuck submission into.

you had been the hardest brat to break, and jenson lived for it. there was nothing like after a long day taking you and fucking any stress of the day out of his body. pushing his cock as deep as he could get it.

letting the messy tip kiss your cervix.

it was a rainy day in july and you had tracked your wet socks through the house after you came back inside. you were soaked from head to toe, but you should've waited for him to come get you from the front door with a towel.

now he had you naked with your wet clothes in a pile on the floor. the older man had his hands on your bare hips and his lips on your hard nipple. he was massaging it between his inscors.

your ass was burning from his earlier smacks, you were surprised you didn't get a spank for every drop of water you got on the hardwood floor. now your nipples were being bit up as you straddled his thigh.

he pulled away a little and rubbed both nipples between his pointer finger and thumb, even giving them a big tug. which made you squirm, "you have to behave, love. you can't be bringing your wet clothes into the house." his voice was firm, "you're such a silly little girl, aren't you? just making a huge mess for me to clean up." he shook his head with slight disappointment which made you whine.

you whined, "please ah! c'mon, you're being so mean!"

he looked at you, eyes went for for a moment. he laughed, "i'm being mean? you got an entire puddle right in the middle of my living room in the house i pay for." he put his lips back on the soft skin and tried his best to leave dark bruises on the skin.

you rubbed your slick pussy up against his thigh, the rough jean material he wore made the hairs on the back of your neck stand out. you were painfully hot like this, naked while he was clothed. a visible sign of submission.

he pulled away from you and relaxed against the couch. he took his cock out of his jeans and spit in his hand before he started to jerk himself off. he said, "come now, love. hop to it. if you want to get yourself off, i'm not helping you. brats have to do things for themselves." he was going to love the sight of this.

you started to move up against his thigh. you straddled it and rubbed your achy clit across it. shivers ran up your spine and made your bruised nipples hard. oh, you were just painfully adorable. look at the sight of you, the little brat he had trained so well.

you were capable of being good, you just needed reason to be. but, don't worry jenson would give you reason after reason to be on your best behaviour.

he continued to jerk himself off, occasionally spitting i his hand more. sadly his hand really wasn't like the sweet cunt that was being dragged across his clothed thigh. he eyed you up and down. from the blissed out expression on his face to the bounce of your bruised breasts.

"who owns this pussy, huh? who owns it because you can't be responsible for it. who owns it the way this house and your car are owned?" he panted heavily as he felt his heartbeat in his ears.

this was just too much and he knew his words were making you crumble.

you croaked as you continued to ride his thigh, "you own it. you own it, jenson." you swallowed roughly, "just like you own everything else." you whined as you felt the pleasure race up your body.

you clothed onto him tighter and continued to move your poor cunt up against his clothed thigh. it was almost pathetic, a woman much younger than him was getting her clit stimulated by the over priced denim he wore.

he cupped your ass with his free hand, the bruised cheek still felt hot under his broad hands. you swallowed and continued to move, he maintained eye contact with your body. you looked so painfully erotic, like a good proper whore.

"you're mine, got it?" he asked as he continued to fuck his hand. as much as he'd love for it to be your soft pussy or perfect throat. but, for now he just had to make due.

you couldn't deny it, it was a fact. you were his, he had sank his claws into you long ago and wasn't letting up. so you better be a good girl and continue to fuck yourself on his thigh.

"please, honey."

he landed a smack across your ass and goped the cheek once more. he felt the thrill of pleasure course through your system as he continued to thrust his cock. the pre-cum was all over his hand as you left a wet mark across his pant leg.

you looked like a horny little puppy. it was sickeningly disgusting and only riled him up further.

"you're such a bad girl." he said, "getting off like this." he grabbed your hand and made you touch his slick cock, "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day. and then you turn around and act like such a brat." his voice was laced with venom

it was all a little too much for you.

you dug your nails into his shoulders as you came, making a mess of the rough jean of his pants. it left a pretty stain as your wetness seeped into the fabric. a big dark spot from his baby girl.

you rested against him and panted heavily, pressing a lot of your weight into him. he relaxed further into the couch with his cock still in his hand. he said to you, "you're such a dirty little slut." he panted, "you always want more, more, more." he swallowed, "but i'll always give you what you want."

"jenson." you whimpered.

a few more jerks of his hand and he finished. ropes of cum got all over the front of his white t-shirt, but he didn't care. he got to see his naked little slut get herself off on his thigh.

he knew his jeans needed a good clean thanks to you. he let go of his cock and panted heavily. his cock twitched when he watched you lick at the cum on his hand. you did it on instinct and moan when the saltiness hit your tongue.

"you're going to be the death of me, honey.' he said as you cleaned him up. he knew he couldn't survive another round like that. so he whispered in your ear, "why don't you put all of our clothes in the wash and meet me in our bedroom. i'll take good care of you." then groped at your bruised ass cheek.

you knew how to behave, jenson ensured that over the time you have been dating. and while he loved your firecracker spirit, nothing got him harder than you dutifully getting up from his lap and going to wash the clothes like a good girl. <3

[bouquetface]

PAC: Next Serious Relationship

I will be detailed asf. This reading won’t be for everyone. Only take as entertainment.

One.

Your next partner:

Curly dark hair, tanned skinned (this person could be mixed or appear racially ambiguous). Age 28-30. Either from somewhere sunny or currently resides somewhere sunny. Nonchalant. Aqua & Scorpio placements.

General reading. Not every reading you come across will resonate. I will not try to appeal to everyone. Just giving honest reads.

Your relationship story:

This won't be love at first sight. This person has a bad reputation. They aren't a cheater but they have spent their twenties messing around. Before you meet, they'll be sick of this bachelor lifestyle. They have many options but they don't trust any of them. They can't imagine a future with them. They fantasize about you a lot before meeting. Their ideal partner, the future you'll have together. They would never admit this to anyone around them but they feel lonely. They miss you before having met you. All this yearning makes me think you have past lives together.

When you meet, it'll likely be through mutual friends. You could be invited to some kind of networking event. Or possibly it's just a party. Very busy place. So many talking you almost can’t hear the people you're talking with. The group you come with will get along with their group. You’ll see each other and their friend group again at future events.

I'll be honest their intentions at the start aren't the best. They'll be the one to add you on social media. They think you're hot and want to add you to their roster. You'll find them attractive but only want to keep them as friend due to their reputation. You could intuitively know or be warned by a friend. You likely will only hang out in a group the first few times. They'll be bummed out, they haven't been friendzoned ever. It'll actually make them suspicious that you like someone else in your mutual social circle.

This is a slow burn relationship. Trust has to be built before you even seriously consider them as a partner. You don't take any shit. You want to be the one, not an option. They are really forced to work for your time. Like when they ask to hang, you aren’t responding yes immediately. If it’s late at night, you’ll say no, I have work in the morning. Or simply no, it’s late. You aren’t stupid, you know there’s no pure reason for someone to be hitting you up at night like this. Slowly but surely, they’ll realize you are the one they’ve been daydreaming about. This will make them get their act together. They will be proving themselves to you. They see you’re an honest, hardworking person. You could be very busy with college or work. They’ll have a lot of respect for this. Accommodating for your schedule, remembering little things you say about coworkers or professors. You’ll have a lot of inside jokes.

There is an element of surprise here. It’s hard to say what it is when it’s a surprise. They may surprise you by bringing you your favorite drink a few times. They may go research something you’re interested in which could surprise you. This surprise might be what makes you think they’re the one. They may hate that you made them wait so long, but trust me, this person needed that humbling. And it’ll be so worth it. Once they get you, all they’re focused on is keeping you.

⚠️ Warning though!! ⚠️

When you two go official, it's going to upset someone. This is where this pile is divided into two groups. For some, it could be a guy friend you have - he thought he had a chance. His attitude will change towards you when you enter this relationship. You'll tell your person but they won't give a fuck. They’re a confident & secure person. They may even laugh at the idea of this guy thinking he had a chance with you. Your friend will be hurt but move on. I don’t even see the friendship ending in this scenario. Once they meet their own person, all past crushes are forgotten.

Now for the other half of you. It’s not as simple of a situation. For some of you, it is a woman. She's been lurking in your person's past. She isn't an ex. But she is someone who was talking to your person. I did warn you that your person had a past. She thought when he was ready to settle down, he'd choose her. She's likely been hanging around for a year, if not YEARS. Oh, this is a bit sad. I'm hearing Jack Harlow's Lil Secret lmao. "'you confident that we soulmates". She really thought she was the one.

Your person is going to cut off everyone he was talking to when you two get serious. She'll be furious. Then, she’ll be in denial. Likely stalking both your socials for months. She thinks you two won’t last. She is convinced that your person is going to come back for her. Embarrassing.

This won't affect the relationship at all though. You two are destined, you'll be protected from this woman. She’ll disappear after a few months. She is bitter. ngl it’s her fault for building up this idea in her head.

I asked for clarification on this woman. Your person did not promise this woman a relationship. They were honest to all their past hookups that they do NOT want a relationship. This woman is just delusional. But I don’t want to hate too much, a lot of people probably been in her situation before. And for most, she’s not batshit and will move on after a few weeks/months. However, some of you do need to be warned, this woman is a total bitch. Will start rumours/talk shit about you with her friends. She’ll get over it eventually. She has no choice lmao you and your person are a forever couple.

It’s honestly giving rockstar boyfriend. Not to imply that he is going to be a musician. This isn’t likely for most. But the fact he is desired by many and well connected in his city. Very passionate relationship. Major Scorpio vibes. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Two.

Your Next Partner:

Sag & Cap placements. Religious. Clean & polished style. Tall, Nice smile, blue eyes. Funny, polite & charming. May wear or like watches. Smells nice.

General reading. Not every reading you come across will resonate. I will not try to appeal to everyone. Just giving honest reads.

Your relationship story:

The feminine will be approached in public. This person is polite and straight forward. They may compliment you and ask for your number. Some of you could meet in an academic environment. After the lecture, they could approach you. For other’s, it could be while you run your usual errands.

Although, they’re very charming and respectful, you could be a bit suspicious. Maybe it is because you tell your friends or family, and they warn you. They’ll think or say it’s not normal for a complete stranger to ask someone out anymore. They are coming from a place of concern. They’ll encourage you to set the date somewhere in a public setting and get their socials. This could stress you out a bit. It could feel too soon to put pressure on them by asking/requesting these things. However, they’ll handle it very well. Very understanding & mature. And once you get to know each other and meet each other’s friend groups & families, everyone is super supportive.

They are serious about you from the start. In a non-creep way, they may have been watching you for a while. They see you as a sweet and kind person. You could be very sensitive. They are a bit opposite. They do well under pressure. Their job could be one that requires them to do well under stress. Maybe law enforcement.

You could have something they believe you need protecting from. This could be a sour relationship you have or had. After a few weeks or months of dating, you may open about your past or family. Some of you had a bad relationship with your ex. It left you with low self esteem. For others, you have a family member that puts too much pressure on you. This could be a very controlling parent. This person will be very understanding, they may actually relate to having a tough parent. It’s not that they don’t love their parent though. This parent likely the father may be very tough on them. Your person could be the eldest. They likely grew up feeling responsible for a lot. Feeling like they need to be the perfect example for their younger siblings. & Feeling like they NEED to make their parent’s proud. This conversation will bring you two closer.

This relationship will feel like a blessing from God. If you aren’t religious, you may become open to the idea. Your person isn’t religious in an extreme orthodox way but faith is important to them. They may casually attend a church or temple. They definitely celebrate religious holidays. They will introduce you to their family very quickly. Maybe an event is coming up and they feel it’s the best opportunity to meet everyone. They don’t have a single doubt about you. To them you are their future spouse. They’re very confident about it. Their family will be very kind to you. They will feel you are a bit out of their league. You may be invited to an activity without your spouse. For example, if they have sisters, you could be to invited to a mother-daughter day out. Do your nails, go out for brunch, etc.

No relationship is perfect. But this is relationship is very close to perfect. You guys will likely do a lot of outdoor activities. Camping, beach day, road trip, etc. You create a lot of beautiful memories together. A lot of photos to show your kids.

Everyone will know you as the IT/Power couple. No one has any doubts that you’ll last forever. Friends of yours and theirs may come to you guys for relationship advice. They may tell you guys they wish they could have a relationship like yours. They aren’t jealous in an evil eye way though. They are truly supportive. Your friend’s are fed up with trying to find someone loyal and trustworthy. They’ll tell you dating is so difficult in this day and age. And these conversations will make you so grateful for having found your person. You guys will likely be the oldest relationship in your social circles. Not in age but as in you’ve been together the longest. So you may meet early on in your 20s. Soon, no one will be able to remember a time before you guys were together.

It’s giving Blake Lively & Ryan Reynolds vibes. 💗💗

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 12: Skip The Bagel Next Time

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 11.7K (I know it's a big boi, but so much happens)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it) and because there is an ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT that the reader stops. Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Dark Themes, Dark Thoughts,  Kidnapping, Torture, Blood, GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF DEATH, DEATH, BLOOD, GUTS, Threatening, Denial, A whole lot of denial,  Manipulation, Self deprecating thoughts, Talks about weed, Super Manipulative Creepy Trash Man, Sexist Comments, Kinda awkward situation, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

A/N: I'm serious y'all this one is BLOODY, the show is too, but really this one has got A LOT. There is an attempted SEXUAL ASSAULT and there are SEVERAL graphic deaths. If you do not like that or if that will hurt you, please don't read this. I love you all and I don't want anyone to be hurt from this.

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

READER POV

The cold was oppressive, seeping through flesh and bone and scratching along your soul. A chill travelled along the bare plains of your face and fingertips to freeze whatever it could, clawing at your clothes to find the skin hidden beneath. You'd never known cold like this, even in the winters when the snow drifted and swirled overhead, glinting in the streetlights as you shuffled home after a long day you were able to keep it at bay, but now there was little you could do to protect yourself.

For you, cold was deadly, just like the early frost that crept along greening leaves in winter, you too felt the effects of the temperature when it dropped.

You thrived in the sunshine and absorbed the rays like a tree raising it's arms to worship the rising sun, but in the cold you were hollow, like the weathered trunk of an old oak long lost to frost and snow.

The dark and cold surrounded you in a shroud of chill and ice, making you feel tired and alone. And this time you didn’t know how much longer you could go on before you succumbed to the frigid embrace.

You didn't know how many days had passed since Darren left you with Elijah, there weren't any windows in the freezer and no way to tell the passing of time.

That's what you decided to call it.

There was no light in it, but you'd walked the perimeter on shaky legs feeling along the ice covered walls while trying to avoid the pieces of meat hanging from hooks above you.

At least, you hoped it was meat. There was something else that seemed too dark to consider, but after being in here as long as you had, your mind began to inch along the edge of the cliff that beckoned you to leap into the churning water below.

No one had come since you woke up in the darkness and you’d given up counting seconds.

No Elijah, no Darren, no team, and no Ben.

 hat last one you weren't sure why you added it to the list or why you separated it from thoughts of your team, but you were starting to believe what Elijah said to you in his office, that Ben hated you and now he wasn't going to come help you.

He said he didn’t care, of course he's not going to come.

The thought wasn't unfamiliar, but it was just as unwelcome. You wanted to believe that your team would come for you or at least Annie. She was your best friend and you knew that she would figure out something was up, but you were worried that Darren had figured out how to keep everyone off his trail. He did have your phone and he was your brother which meant he knew most of what to say if someone texted you. But you tried to remain optimistic that Annie would be able to smell the imposter.

You’d tried talking and shouting at the frozen walls for someone to hear you, screamed yourself hoarse, but there was no one to answer.  There's a dull throb in your limbs that won't leave and a hollow in the pit of your stomach. No one had brought food or water, and you'd taken to relieving yourself in the opposite side of the cell.

I guess that's what this is. Elijah put me a cell.

You couldn't hear anything outside, no rumble of the expressway, no splash of water against the rocks, no honking of traffic, and no low murmur of people speaking outside.

It was just you alone in the darkness waiting for whatever came next.

The shudder that works it's way down your spine has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with Elijah. What he said to you in his office worried you. You weren't one to give in, but the superhuman strength he possessed in was troubling you. And without plants nearby you weren't sure you could fight off someone who was so much stronger.

Not to mention you could feel the weakness of your body beginning to close in on you. Being in the cold was quickly becoming unbearable and you weren't sure how much longer you could take this before it caused permanent damage.

You would cry again if you had anything left. You couldn't believe that Darren would do something like this, that he would allow Elijah to take you and that your brother was so desperate to pay off a debt that he used you as a bargaining chip. You wondered if Darren knew what Elijah would do to you or if he didn't care as long as it settled his debt.

After all these years of me paying off his debts, he probably thought that I'd be happy to do something like this. I've been giving up parts of my life so he could go off and live his. I never said no. I never turned my back on my brother and look where it got me.

You'd thought that you were showing your brother how much you loved him by bailing him out as many times as you did, but now you felt stupid and used. You now saw that your brother didn't care about you, the only thing he cared about was how willing you were to give him money and support him for nothing in return.

You huddle further into a ball in the corner of the room, your back pressed against the frozen wall trying to reach out for some kind of plant energy, but there isn't anything. There wasn't a single seed, vegetable, or piece of plant in the freezer or anywhere nearby and it made all of this worse. It made you feel unsettled being away from them and you're reminded of the cruise Annie and you spent together where you were isolated from land in the middle of the ocean and couldn't leave the cabin.

You couldn’t even feel the sickness of the marijuana plants anymore. That was the only welcome part of all of this, that you couldn't feel them anymore, not when it made you dizzy to be that close to them.

Then again, I'll take what I can get. If I get out of this I'm going to start carrying seeds in my pockets everywhere.

You press your lips together, feeling the chapped flesh that was dry and flaking flushed red. Your cheeks and the skin of your face were the same way. You felt tired and you knew it was your body telling you to shut down, slowing your heart rate to save your life, but you fought it.

At first you'd tried to keep moving around the cell, rubbing your left arm up and down your right to keep warm the best you could, while avoiding the large pieces of meat hanging from the hooks above, and distracting yourself with how bad it smelled instead of the cold. But you gave up walking around and decided to conserve as little heat you had left by crouching down and shivering in the corner. Your could feel your mind going a little bit cloudy, as if you couldn't focus on anything. You hadn't slept and you weren't sure if that was why you were confused or if it was your body beginning to shut down.

It scared you to think that if you fell asleep, you wouldn’t wake up again.

Of all the things that Darren had done this was the biggest betrayal, that much was obvious. Telling Elijah that you were a supe who could control plants was one thing, but telling Elijah that you don't do well in the cold was unforgivable, especially because Darren knew how dangerous it was for you to be in cold for a prolonged time.

I wonder if he ever cared for me, or if this has all just been a game to him from the beginning since our parents died.

You had thought that you were doing what your parents would have wanted you to do in supporting your brother, thought that you were showing him the love they would have given him, but now you wished that you'd turned your back on him years ago. 

You move slightly, but wince with the pain that comes streaking down your right arm. It was a bad break and you knew that it probably needed to be set, because it had swollen up beneath your sleeve and was now an ugly purple color in certain places. You couldn't straighten it at all without screaming so now you kept it contracted and against your chest. You would have made a make-shift sling for it, if you didn’t want to keep as much skin covered from the cold.

Maybe the cold is helping it.

You think to yourself gently probing along your right sleeve, but wince when you get to your forearm and lean your head back against the wall while gritting your teeth together to keep from screaming. You had left your hair down as a way of protecting your ears and the skin of your neck, but now the strands were dry and brittle. You worried that they would snap off at any second.

Fuck, Ben where are you?

The thought was surprising. You hadn’t meant to think of him again, hadn’t meant for your mind to drift to him, but it did. You’d be lying if you didn’t imagine Ben barging in and saving your life. When you imagined your team doing a big rescue, Ben was always leading it with Annie close behind him.

You would kill for a hug from him right now, he was always so inhumanly warm and it was such a comfort. The memory of him laying on top of you comes back and you imagine it, feeling the weight of his body, feeling the warmth that curled through him and into you, but then you remember what you yelled at him.

Are those going to be the last things I say to him? All those terrible things about his team and his son?

You frown at the thought. You didn’t want it to be. Now you were more upset that you hadn't listened to him about Darren, that you hadn't seen the things that Ben had. If he were here you might even let him say "I told you so." 

Maybe, and only once.

You wondered if this was how Ben felt when he was trapped in Russia for forty years, if every day he waited for someone to come get him who never would. If every day he remained hopeful that Countess would break down the door and save him. It was cruel of her to leave him there with that hope and you could never imagine doing that to him. You could imagine how alone he must have felt, how small and helpless he did, and how much it probably broke him when he figured out that she wasn’t coming for him.

He's not going to come save me. You think to yourself remembering what he yelled to Darren before he slammed the bathroom door. He doesn’t care about me. Everyone else will come, but he won't. 

The thought made it feel like you were going to cry. Then again you kept having that feeling come surging up, but it never brought any tears. The only way you hadn't dehydrated was that you kept having to break some of the ice off the wall and sucked on it, trying not to ignore how much colder it made you.

But if he didn't care, then why did Ben try to warn me about Darren?

It's not the first time you’d thought that. It was the truth. You didn’t understand why Ben was acting like he cared and yet he said those things to your brother, why Ben shouted things just as bad at you that you'd shouted at him.

He called me stupid. He insulted me. He's just always so damn stubborn and rude and annoying and-

You sigh and press your head into your knees. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing does.

The door handle jingles as if someone is trying to open it and the lights of the freezer flare to life, temporarily blinding you. You blink to clear your vision, squinting at the two large men dressed all in black who enter. One of which you identify as Joe, the man who had been outside at the gate, the other you have no idea who he is, but suspect that he's probably another part of Elijah's security team.

Standing seems like too much effort, so all you do is glare at them from your seated position.

"Come here often?" You cough out a laugh, your voice more of a rasp.

Neither of them laugh.

Annie would have laughed. Maybe Ben.

Joe grabs you by your left arm and hauls you up off of the ground, the motion of your body bending feeling like each joint is creaking and cracking, breaking through ice as they move.

He practically drags you from the room and you don't fight him. If anything you understand that you’re going to need to conserve your strength for wherever it is that you're going.

Your legs don't really work as he hauls you down the hallway, your feet stumble and try to catch against the solid ground, but not quite correctly.

You can feel your skin flaking away under your blouse where Joe is holding you by the arm, the other man following silently behind with his hand in his jacket as if prepared to pull out a gun. You figure that Elijah sent two men as a precaution if you had found some kind of plant in the freezer.

Maybe I should be flattered that he's not underestimating me. You frown. Yeah, no not gonna do that, the asshole locked me in a freezer.

The warm air in the hallway is a welcome change from the freezer, but it almost hurts for your body to be abruptly put in a place so different than the place you'd been inhabiting for who knows how long.

Joe shoves your body forward into a door in front of you and as you move towards it, the door opens and you fall onto the floor directly onto your bad arm.

This time you do scream when the white hot stab of pain shoots through your right arm as it makes contact with the floor. And Joe laughs.

"For a supe you're pretty wimpy." He chortles to himself, yanking you up from the ground again by your left arm. "Then again what a waste of a power, making the flowers grow."

Your teeth grind down. "Keep talking and I'll shove some of those pretty flowers up where the sun don't shine."

"I don't think you're in the position to make threats." Joe smirks. He shoves you deeper into the room and your body stumbles back, but you catch yourself on a plush highbacked navy armchair.

"Oh really? How do you know this hasn't been my plan all along? To get you and tweedle dum over there alone." You clear your throat glancing around the room for something you can use as a weapon.

The room is smaller than the office was, more intimate. With two navy high backed arm chairs, a leather couch that looks more decorative than comfortable and a fireplace where a fire roars, sending a wave of heat through the back of your shirt.

You scramble forward to try and melt your frozen fingertips, but keep the two men in your line of sight.

"I'd be nicer if I were you sweets. When the boss is done with you and he gives you to me, maybe I'll be a little gentler than he is." Joe's eyes trace down your body, making revulsion rise in the back of your throat like bile.

You were already feeling a little better, but you still couldn’t use your right arm and there were no plants that you could draw from. The good news was that these two men weren't supes, which meant that you might be able to take them with just your strength, but your arm was the problem.

"Joe." Elijah sighs as he enters the room behind the two men. "Are you being rude to our guest?"

"Just telling her how it is boss."

"Hmm." Elijah looks you up an down with a sad smile. "You look tired honey. You didn't find your vacation relaxing?"

"Oh it was paradise darling." You seethe, standing up from the floor. You refuse to back down from him.

If he's gonna do something he might as well do it. I'm sick of this tough guy mafia bullshit.

You could sense what was coming, it thrummed through your veins, and sent electrical impulses over every synapse of your body as you prepared for the coming fight. The fog was still hovering in your mind, but the adrenaline beat it back with a stick.

"Usually the cooler makes people more docile. I see it's made you more heated." He looks pleased, and makes a motion with his hand to Joe and the other man, who leave as soon as they see it. "Good. It’s always more fun that way anyway."

The energy in the room shifts for a moment as Elijah approaches you before he runs his large hand over the back of the high backed chair drawing your eye to the thick steel ring on his right fourth finger. It catches in the light of the fire, but you longer feel the warmth of the blaze. It’s worse now that it's the two of you alone, not to mention with Elijah being a supe and no plant in sight, your odds of getting out of this went from 50/50 to 40/60.

Fuck.

You fight the shudder that threatens to shake through you when you see the glint in Elijah's eye, hoping and praying that you have enough energy to take him down. Butcher had made you spar with him every chance you got so it wasn't that you weren't trained, it was that you could feel what little energy you had left draining from your body.

But that didn't mean you weren't going to back down.

"I'd be happy to show you just how wonderful it is to be locked in a freezer with no light. Just say the word." You take another step back eyes searching the room for something to use as a weapon.

"Tempting." His head tilts to the side. "But I can think of more fun things the two of us could do."

"Chess?" You gesture to the board on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"You could call it that." His smile turns more into a smirk.

Elijah flashes forward so fast your didn't see him move, knocking you backward onto the uncomfortable couch. One of his hands is fastened to your throat, the other pins your good arm above you head as his entire weight knocks the wind out of you. Nothing about his weight is comforting or is anything like how Ben laid on you the other night. It's oppressive and heavy, and the thick cloud of his cologne stings your nostrils as you gasp for breath. Everything in your body screams WRONG as you feel his hand squeeze down on your throat so tight you’re sure that it's leaving a mark.

His lips bite against yours, teeth cutting through the thinly chapped and flaky skin. You scream into his mouth and bite down hard until you taste blood wiggling beneath his weight. Elijah roars, the sound of his crescendo vibrating through your body and he backhands you so savagely you see stars.

"You'll pay for that." His eyes are wide and dark like two soulless pits that wish to drag you under and his teeth are bared in a snarl more animal than human. It reminds you of a rabid dog that rips and tears in a savage rage.

Your eyes drop to his mouth.

Is that what I think it is?

The pull is there, small, just barely a throb, but it's there, because between Elijah's two front teeth is your salvation.

"You really should floss more." You spit into his face, feeling your eyes shift to green focusing on the poppy seed caught beneath his gums. You assume he ate a bagel earlier and forgot all about it, but you don't give yourself time to speculate on exactly why it's there, only that it's your chance.

"What are you-"

Elijah doesn't finish his sentence, instead he gags as the stalks and roots begin to pour from his mouth. Poppies bloom from the outstretched stems that hang daintily past his full lips. He coughs and stumbles back from you, blood dripping around the flowers, as the roots begin to thread themselves into the soft skin on the inside of his mouth and twist and tangle down his throat.

Elijah's screams are muffled into the buds and leaves that sprout from his open mouth, eyes wide and staring at you with a mixture of horror and pure hatred. The vessels in his face burst until the blood flows from his eyes and skin freely and the roots breach through bone, vein, and flesh as if searching for earth outside of his body. The plants suck every nutrient they can from what you've given them, breaking Elijah's body down into what they can and cannot use.

The flowers do not hear his screams, the petals do not show remorse and the gentle bend of each bud before it blooms is not sinister, but beneath your hands they are deadly.

Turning someone into a tree you'd never done, sure you'd threatened it, but you’d never done it. You'd locked Newton your ex-boyfriend into a tree years ago, but that wasn't a transformation or a death, that involved the tree cocooning him inside, but it was nothing like this. You stand from the couch watching Elijah writhe in pain and confusion, trying to stop the plants that continue to feast on him.

His hands grasp at his face, ripping away the flowers that sprout from his lips, but he tears away pieces of flesh loosened by the roots away from his skull until chunks of muscle and tissue are mushed into the rug at his feet. There's a terrible snapping sound as the roots continue to expand outward and the flowers stems and stalks continue to unfurl beneath his skin, shattering through bone. Elijah's hands scramble down his chest, tearing away his shirt, the scream in his lungs lost to the crimson blooms that block air from coming in to his chest. He claws at his skin, falling to his knees, the inky black of the tattoos that cover his chest vanishing beneath the roots and stalks the peel away from his flesh and burst from his ribcage, the poppies the final bouquet laid on the casket.

And as you stand there, your un-ruined arm outstretched towards him, feeling the healing ebb and flow of energy from the poppies strengthening you momentarily, you have no remorse. Elijah Black is the first man you've ever essentially killed outright with your powers and yet you feel nothing. The men on the street the night that Ben saved you would have done the same thing to you, you'd spared their lives, but this time you didn't spare his.

He makes one more attempt to scream, the blood from his chest spurting upwards in an arch and splashing against your body, but then he falls silent. The poppies spreading along the plush rug at your feet covering his body, burying it beneath their beautiful petals, smiling at you.

He deserved this.

The little voice at the back of your mind whispers and the feeling of him on top of you comes roaring back, sending revulsion through your body. You didn’t want to think about what almost happened, what would have happened if he hadn't eaten the bagel.

You stoop down to pick one of the flowers before you lay it against your right wrist and manipulate the vines and roots to form a make-shift sling for your broken arm. The exhaustion was back, tugging at your body, but this time you ignore it, knowing that you had a long way to go before you earned your freedom.

At least now my arm is stabilized. You think to yourself. How the hell am I going to get out of here?

"Hey boss are you done yet-" Joe says as he enters the room, but he stops mid-sentence. His eyes trace your body again, but not in the lewd way he'd done earlier, instead you see horror flash in his gaze when he sees the blood flecked across your cheeks and the bits of flesh and muscle that sit in clumps, smashed into the plush rug at your feet.

You feel your eyes shift to green once more, the poppies that cover Elijah's body begin to stir as if an unnatural wind has begun to wisp into the room. "You should have been more worried about getting on my good side Joe, because the flowers might be pretty, but you won't enjoy them as much as they'll enjoy you."

He tries to draw his gun, but it's too late. They'll be nothing left of him or anyone who stands in your way.

Soldier Boy POV

Blood stained Ben's ungloved hands, soaked into his supe suit, and splashed across his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He would bathe in it every day until he found you if that's what it took.

He didn't understand why he felt this way, felt unsure and antsy at the thought of you being trapped somewhere, but he did, and it was almost too much to bear. With each passing hour on the long drive from Boston to New York, Ben could feel himself slipping further and further into a feeling that he couldn't place, a feeling that he'd never felt before in his entire life. His hands had curled into fists where they rested on his thighs with each mile that the car inched closer to you and to whoever the fuck had hurt you. He hadn’t spoken since he threatened Butcher at the motel, well, except for the occasional "Can you drive any fucking faster?" he shouted at Butcher every few minutes.

Even Annie seemed unnaturally quiet where she sat beside Ben in the backseat, her hand clasped tightly in Hughie's. She had been upset since she figured out what Darren had done and Hughie was trying to comfort her. Hughie had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and was whispering gentle things into her ear while she leaned into his chest and hugged him.

It annoyed Ben.

In the past Ben would have mocked a man for doing that, would have made an offhand comment about the man being pussy whipped, but as Ben sat there and listened to Hughie try his best to bring Annie some peace, Ben couldn’t help but remember the night you had a nightmare.

The scream you'd let loose was what jolted him into consciousness. He'd never heard you scream like that before. In that moment he hadn't cared about what you'd said about him not going in your bedroom, all he knew was that he had to be in there and he had to make sure you were okay. When he'd found you sitting on your bed crying and gasping for breath he hadn't wanted to leave you, for the first time in his life Ben had wanted to do exactly what Hughie was doing for Annie. Ben didn't know the first thing about how to do that, but he'd wanted to sit there with you until you calmed down.

He'd never done that for anyone before. Countess had been distressed once because she'd lost an earring her mother gave her, but Ben had just told her to "get the fuck over it."

You were different and as much as Ben hated to admit it to himself, he was starting to realize that as well. He just didn't know why.

When Butcher finally crashed his car through the front gate that surrounded the warehouse Ben jumped from it while it was still in motion, leaving the rest of them to squawk and squabble over a plan like a bunch of fucking chickens.

Ben had a plan, save you. He didn't need to hear Butcher come up with a plan of action when Ben was a man of action.

"Where is she?" Ben snarls to the man he's pinned to the wall of the cool concrete hallway, his voice shaking the foundations of the building.

The dim lightbulbs that line the hallway flicker and flash a yellowed light that curves cruelly over the sharp edges of Ben's face, but he does not back down from the man he has pushed against the wall. The bodies of the other men who stood in Ben's way lay in a trail of blood and bone behind, and the man in his arms would join the fray for wasting his time.

"Go to hell." The man spits in Ben's face.

"You'll go first." Ben says in a murderous growl as he pulls apart the body easily as if the man is made of tissue paper, the sound of the man's screams no more than a memory as they ring down the desolate hallways.

Ben trudges on through the dim light with the sticky smell of blood following behind him. He was hoping that he wasn't too late. Sometimes he forgot how fragile other people were, how easy it was for an accident to occur and for someone like you to get hurt or killed, but Ben didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to consider that possibility.

It's only been 4 days. Ben's jaw clenches together. It would have been no days if she had just fucking listened to me!

Ben frowns. Or it would have been no days if I had followed her.

Ben didn't know why he felt guilty, just that he didn't like it. A part of him kept flashing back to the years he spent in Russia, when he hoped that Countess would come get him, when he thought she loved him as much as he loved her, and when in reality it was her that put him there.

After that happened Ben had decided that it was stupid and unmanly to care about anyone, to love anyone, because it only fucked everything up. But Ben didn't want you to go through what he had. You were so different than he was, softer, kind, and way too trusting. Sometimes he didn’t like that you were doing this kind of work. It didn’t seem like you. When he saw you in the plant shop working it was different, you seemed to be in you element.

But he didn't want you to think that no one was coming to save you, because he was and like hell he was going to let anyone stand in his way.

This is taking too long.

The hallways were twisting and turning and Ben hadn’t seen another soul in at least two minutes. He listens with his hearing hoping to hear you talking or someone talking about you, but he doesn’t all he hears is a heart beat. It's faint, but it's there. The room where it comes from is torn to bits, chairs are laying on their sides stuffing falling out onto the blood stained carpet and covered in a field of red poppies, the smell of blood is thick in the air, and the bodies that lay on the ground are cleaved open with the plants tangling in the organs within, spilling out onto the floor.

Truthfully, Ben hadn't thought that your powers could look like this. Sure, you would make an offhand comment about turning him into a tree or shoving a watermelon up his ass, but he didn’t actually think that you would ever do it. Again, Ben didn’t see this side of you very often. He did piss you off and annoy you, but Ben didn’t actually think you’d ever try to attack him.

Not to mention that Ben thought that being able to make flowers grow seemed like a woman's power, and truthfully he liked watching you walk to work and place your hand on a bouquet or a small cluster of flowering plants to make them perk up, or watch you move around the apartment and see how the plants seemed to turn towards you, but this was surprising. He didn’t think that you could do something like that to someone's body and he wasn't disgusted, in fact he was a little impressed.

Ben raises his gaze from the bodies to see you.

You're on the ground, curled into a ball to protect your right arm that's also covered in poppies, but Ben can tell that it's broken, by how swollen it is.

Your breath is coming in shallow gasps and you heart beats faintly. You're covered in so much blood that Ben is worried that he's too late.

"Petals?" Ben drops to his knees beside where you lay, gingerly picking you up off the ground so that your left arm is resting against his chest. "Petals?" Ben says again, his heart seizing in his chest, throat thick. His hand gently pushes back the hair that sticks to your bloodied cheeks as he checks you over for wounds. Ben feels his jaw tighten when he see the bruising handprint around your throat, the blaze of heat from his anger coming back when he realized that someone had touched you.

"Come on Petals wake up." Ben murmurs, as he brushes your hair back. The strands are dry and brittle against his fingertips. "Come on sweetheart, say something annoying."

"Ben?" He hears you murmur, it’s more of a shallow breath than his name, but it’s something.

Ben exhales the breath he didn’t know that he was holding. "Yeah it's me."

"You came." You whisper and turn your head into his chest, weakly pressing your fingertips over his heart the motion making something stutter inside of him.

Your skin is flushed, veins shimmering beneath, body colder than Ben has ever felt it and he can see the flecks of skin that flake from your lips. Ben’s gaze falls on the mark over your right cheekbone that has already begun to bruise and drop back down to the handprint around your throat. Ben feels the tendrils of his rage beginning to spill over into the cavity in his chest screaming for blood. Ben's eyes flick to the bodies in the room momentarily hoping that they suffered for what they did to you and regrets not getting here sooner to make them suffer for touching you.

"Of course I came Petals." Ben replies his rough hand gently tracing along your cheek. "Did you think I was gonna leave you behind?"

"Thought you were mad." You breathe not opening your eyes. "I'm sorry for-" Your voice breaks as if it’s too much effort to finish the sentence, but he understands what you're about to say.

The feeling in Ben’s chest is not unfamiliar. It was the one he’d felt when he was in Russia every day, the loneliness that drove him mad.

Ben wonders if that's all you’d thought of the past four days. If you really believed that he wasn't going to come save you because you'd yelled at him and said what you did.

What I said wasn't better.

He remembered shouting at Darren that he didn’t care and he felt a twinge deep down when he realized that you must have been thinking that he was going to leave you in all this shit because of it.

"You can make it up to me later sweetheart." Ben stands with you close to his chest, but accidentally jostles your broken arm.

You whimper in pain and Ben freezes, adjusting his left arm under your knees and his right around your waist to secure you to his chest. "Shh it’s okay. I'm going to get you out of here." He reassures and takes a moment to press a kiss to the top of your head at your hairline where your head is turned into him. Ben clenches his jaw together and swallows. He hadn't meant to do that and didn't know why he did, just that he didn’t have the ability to touch your face with his hand and it seemed like the next best thing.

His mind flashes back to Hughie in the car with Annie, the things that Hughie said to her the way Hughie held her close and kissed her head to make sure she knew he was there.

"Okay." You breathe, cuddling further into his chest and pressing your face into his collar bone with a soft sigh as if you don’t know what he did.

Ben was glad, because the last thing he wanted was for you to accuse him of coping a feel when you weren't up to snuff.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Reader POV

A rhythmic beeping noise lulls you from sleep as you sigh softly, but you don't open your eyes. It feels like you’re swimming through tar, as if your limbs are being bound to the soft bed beneath you with cement. Everything hurts and yet you're here and you're alive.

Well, I think I’m alive.

You blink your eyes open, squinting in the oppressive unbroken sunlight that bathes the entire room in a brilliant glow from the un-curtained windows to the left of the bed you're laying in. The room is white, a blank slate,  and unfamiliar. There’s teal couch underneath the large left window and a small cabinet pressed into the corner between the couch and the opposite wall, a tv mounted on the wall across from the bed and a large pale blue curtain hanging to the right of your bed behind a collection of monitors that beep and squabble with one another. The room would be unremarkable if not for the plants.

There are buckets of monstera that unfurl leaves as big as your face jammed into the corners of the room and tangles of jasmine hanging from the top of the cabinet. Cacti line the windowsill absorbing the healing light from the sun, while a cart of honeysuckle, lavender, rose, and more flowering plants than you can name sits at the end of your hospital bed. The smell of gardenia is strong, floating lightly through the air to kiss you on the tip of your nose and you look to your left at the small bedside table to notice the gardenia plant you had on your bedside table back at you apartment blossoming in the warmth of the room.

Bouquets of flowers are shoved onto all other possible surfaces, some big some small, but all of them colorful and beautiful to look at. The healing energy of the plants is everywhere, absorbing into your body and strengthening you, the sweet smells of the flowers masking the stale clean smell of the hospital, and making you feel at home for the first time since you left your apartment with Darren.

Your eyes shift to the teal couch under the window and see that it's not empty, Ben is laying there on his back, his arms crossed over his dark t-shirt, sound asleep. His soft snores a comfort over the sounds of the beeping monitors so close to your bed.

The memories of what happened however long ago come back muffled and slurred through the haze of the drugs the doctors have given you, but you remember the final ones you had before you fell into the abyss.

You remember feeling Ben pick you up and hold you close to him, begging you to answer him, while the warmth of his body was like a soothing soak in a hot bath after a cold day. All you could do was cling to him and try to get as close as you could to absorb some of the heat. You didn’t believe that he would come for you and he did.

Tears glaze your eyes while you watch him sleep, all the sharp edges of his face smoothed in his slumber, all the frown lines you knew all too well no longer there while he slept. He looked different like this, peaceful.

You could feel your heart warming to think that Ben actually did care about you and that was why he came to get you.

"You’re awake." A familiar voice says.

Diana Moore, your grandmother, looks cheerfully at you from the teal rocking chair to the right of the bed, working on a purple knit blanket in her lap.

"Gran?" You clear your throat as you adjust yourself to sit up. "What are you doing here?"

She stands and nears the bed, tucking the granny square blanket she must have covered you with, further under you as she does. "Annie called and said you were hurt in some sort of accident." Your grandmother frowns. "And when I got here she told me what happened."

"Everything?" You say with a grimace.

"Most of it." Her frown deepens around the edges of her mouth. "But it was easy to fill in when she mentioned Darren."

Your grandmother knew everything about your life, there were no secrets between the two of you, and as much as she discouraged you working with Butcher, she pretended that she didn't care. Despite you being a supe, she always seemed to want to keep you away from the hero lifestyle. That was always odd to you, especially when you saw how proud Annie’s mother was of her abilities. Your grandmother although supportive of your abilities, never wanted you to become a hero. Whenever you’d ask her why she’d always say that “the grass looks greener on the other side.” It wasn’t an answer, but you never pushed her for one.

"I'm-"

"What your brother did is not your fault, and if the next words out of your mouth are an apology I will pack up everything you own and make you move back home." She raises an eyebrow.

It was an empty threat, you loved being in Illinois with her and you both knew it, but you let it slide.

Your grandmother looks the same way she did as when you first went to live with her when you were twelve. Not to mention for someone who was just over eighty years old, she looked pretty good. Whenever someone mentioned that to her she’d only say that “time had been good to her.”

Her gray hair is wavy and pinned back away from her face in an elegant twist that makes her look classic and poised. Her clothes are stylish, clean blue-jeans with a floral blouse that is covered by a thin cream colored sweater she knitted herself and a pair of black flats.

She was the reason you started knitting and crocheting. The love she instilled into each handmade item she delivered to her neighbors, made you love your grandmother's gentle spirit all the more. She'd always been like that, a shoulder to cry on, the person who always baked and filled the house with warmth, the person who took care of her neighbors when they were ill and made sure that they were well fed, and all the people back home loved her almost as much as you did.

She became the mother you’d lost and you didn’t realize how much you’d missed her until this exact moment.

Tears burn against your eyes as the events of the past few days surge up in a lump at the back of your throat. The memories of Elijah said and did, the freezer, the deaths, and the betrayal from your brother all too much to bear.

"Oh sweetie." Your grandmother whispers gently sitting on the edge of the bed and lets you hug her. You cry into her shoulder, holding her tight, the smell of her perfume familiar. "It's okay." She rubs your back. "Let it all out."

You do. It's the hardest you'd cried in weeks, but she sits there with you and continues to hold you close to her the way she'd done since you were twelve.

"Better?" She cups your cheek, her blue eyes tracing your face. They were the same as your father's and it made you miss him more.

"Yeah." You sniffle.

"Good. I brought you some fudge."

"What?"

"And some meat-pies and I stopped by your apartment and put a few frozen lassagna's in there for later. You look thin. Have you been eating?"

"Yes I have." You roll your eyes, but smile, because even when you thought you were all grown up she was trying to take care of you.

"Hmm." She presses her lips into a tight line looking you up and down.

"Fine, sometimes I skip a meal." You admit.

"You shouldn't. Especially with how often you use your powers." She squeezes your left hand because your right one was now in a bright green colored cast.

You wonder if they chose that color randomly or if Annie told them to pick that.

"I know Gran. Where's Annie?" You ask. It kind of hurt that she wasn't here when you woke up, but you couldn't fight the happy feeling knowing that Ben was here. That one also hurt a little bit, especially when it filled you with the hope that Ben wanted to have a relationship when you knew he didn't.

"She just went to get some dinner with Hughie. He's a nice boy, good manners. A lot like your boyfriend." She gestures over to the couch where Ben is snoring.

Ben having good manners? She's kidding right?

"He's not my boyfriend-"

"No?" Your grandmother gives you a knowing look. "He sure seems like it."

"He's my roommate. And well-" You bite the inside of your cheek feeling your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment. "I think we're friends."

I mean he carried me out of the warehouse that's gotta be a friend thing right?

"He hasn’t left that couch since I got here. Not to mention he keeps harassing the doctor whenever he comes in, keeps asking him when you're going to wake up. Made one of the nurses cry-“

"He what?"

"You didn't tell me you knew Soldier Boy."

You pause looking up at your grandmother. "What?"

"He's Soldier Boy." She says it matter of fact.

"How did you-"

"He looks just like him." Your grandmother examines Ben's sleeping face again. "Plus I met him a few times before, but that was a long time ago."

Your mouth drops open. "You met Soldier Boy. When?"

"Story for another time dear."

"Oh please tell me that you didn’t go out with him." Sometimes you forgot how old Ben was and the thought that he and your grandmother had a thing made you feel nauseous.

I swear if Ben and my grandmother fucked or made out I am going to go crazy and I'm taking him down with me.

"No of course not." Her cheeks flush. "I was dating your grandfather when we met."

"Oh."

I guess that's a little better, but still weird.

"But he was certainly trying his best." She snorts.

"Please no more." You cringe back from her trying not to imagine Ben hitting on your grandmother.

"I'm just teasing sweetie." She kisses you on the forehead with a smile. "Not really."

"Oh my sweet goodness, please do not tell me anything else." You groan blocking out the mental images of Ben with your grandmother.

She sits back down in her chair with her knitting smiling to herself, the subtle scrape of the needles together reminded you of the quiet nights the two of you spent back home sitting in the living room and watching TV.

Guess I won't be able to crochet for a while with this thing. You frown at the cast on your right arm more disappointed at the prospect of not being able to crochet than what had happened to you.

"He was with Crimson Countess anyway." Your grandmother rolls her eyes when she says her name.

"Wait a minute, you knew Ben when he was with Countess?"

How in the fuck did I not know this? Why didn’t she tell me that she knew famous supes? Why did she know them?

She nods not looking up from the purple mass in her lap. "She was a real piece of work, very callous, and uncaring whenever the cameras weren't flashing." You watch her eyes slide to where Ben is laying. "I always hated the way she seemed to treat him. She was manipulative, very good at getting whatever she wanted. She was possessive when it came to Ben, fiercely jealous of anyone who got near him. Weird given the relationship they had" The thought makes her frown and for a moment you see something slide across your grandmother's face that was unlike the woman who'd raised you.

"But why were you around them in the first place?" You ask her.

Your grandmother had never said that she was around supes, never said that she was a part of any of that. All you knew was that she met your grandfather who was a retired veteran turned doctor and settled down in Illinois so he could open a private practice, but to know that she knew Ben was making your head spin.

"Another time. You need rest."

"But-"

"Please sweetie. I don't want to talk about the past right now. Not when you need to sleep."

“But-“

She looks up at you with the same matronly look she always had when she told you to go to bed and you were being unruly.

“Okay.”

The doctor walks into the room, his smile brightening when he notices that you're awake. "Hello, I'm Dr. Martinez. How are you feeling today?"

"Good I guess." Your eyes were still focused on your grandmother who has begun to knit innocently as if the last few things that she'd mentioned hadn't happened.

"Well it’s reassuring that you're awake." His eyes skate to where Ben is sleeping and you see just a glimmer of fear behind them. "We were all eagerly hoping that you would wake up soon-"

Did he threaten the doctor with bodily harm? Because that feels very Ben-like.

"How long have I been asleep?" You ask taking a sip from the cup of ice water on your tray.

"Three days."

"Three what-" You shriek, spewing water all over the bed.

Ben jolts upwards from sleep to his feet, looking around the room with narrowed eyes like he believes that someone is in the room about to attack you.

"Ben it's okay." You say with a cough to clear the water that came out your nose. Ben's gaze flicks to where you're laying in the bed.

You weren't prepared to see the tension leave his shoulders and to see relief flash through his eyes, before they harden once more to his usual expression.

Was he worried about me? I mean my grandmother said that he hasn't left the couch and that he's been harassing the doctors…

"Yes." Dr. Martinez looks at where Ben is now standing over your bed, but Ben hasn't looked away from you. In fact you see his eyes shift over your face, down to your throat, then to the cast on your right arm and see his frown grow by the minute.

"Sorry I wasn't ready for that." You clear your throat with a forced smile.

"It's alright. But the good news is you're awake-"

"No shit sherlock." Ben snarks. "Did your big fancy degree tell you that?"

“Sir-“ Dr. Martinez starts, but Ben interrupts him.

“Because-“ Ben begins to say something else but you reach out and touch his arm with your left hand before you can stop yourself. His gaze focuses back on you.

“Ben, it’s okay. I’m okay. Let him talk.” You squeeze his warm forearm to reassure him.

His green eyes flick back to your face, something flashing through his eyes that looks very different than the man you usually saw. He doesn't apologize, but he nods his head in the direction of the doctor to let him know that he could continue. Ben also doesn't move your hand from his forearm, in fact, he steps a little closer to you.

You miss the smile your grandmother hides behind her hand when she sees Ben’s reaction.

"As I said you're awake and it looks like you're doing much better now that we've given you fluids. You were dehydrated when you came in and had a touch of hyperthermia which is unusual given how warm it's been lately." Dr. Martinez gestures to the sunny day outside. "Your right arm is broken, but we set it and it should be about 6 weeks until you're fully healed. As for the black eye and the-" The doctor clears his throat, eyes looking to Ben for a moment. "Marks around your neck, those should be gone within a few weeks or so."

Does he think Ben did this to me?

The thought makes you angry. As mad as Ben had gotten at you in the past, you didn’t believe that he would ever hurt you. Sure he'd hurt you the first day you'd met, but you weren't afraid of him, you couldn’t be. Even when his temper flared you didn't fear that he would hurt you. Yeah he had a bad temper, but Ben always seemed to stomp away when you pissed him off, not attack you.

"And how long do I have to stay here?"

"Well, now that you're awake I want to keep you one more night for observation and do blood work again, but I'm not worried about sending you home." Dr. Martinez looks at Ben again before he looks at you. "Unless you want to stay longer?"

"What the fuck are you trying to say doc?" Ben growls, realizing exactly what the doctor is insinuating.

Your hand skates down Ben’s arm and entwines with his fingertips. Ben looks at it surprised.  “I'd like to go home with Ben as soon as possible." You say it to the doctor with a frown, not liking what the doctor is trying to say, but then you realize exactly how it sounds.

It wasn't a lie, you wanted to go home with Ben, wanted to go back to your everyday life and forget that all of this happened. You didn't mean to hold his hand, but it just seemed like the only way to get your point across.

"Alrighty then. I'll just have the nurse come in and take a little more blood." The doctor replies and backs quickly out of the room, casting one more look at Ben.

The three of you sit there for a moment in the silence that follows, Ben's eyes still on you, your hand still holding on to his. You quickly let go.

“I'm going to go down to the cafeteria before it closes. Do you want anything Ben?"

"No thanks Di. I'm good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck as if he's unsure what comes next.

"Di?" You turn to look at your grandmother with a frown.

"Do you want something sweetie?" She doesn’t look phased at Ben's use of the nickname.

"No I'm fine Di." You emphasize the nickname, but she doesn’t react.

"I'll bring you back some tea. That always seems to help you relax." She winks and places the mass of purple yarn onto the chair before she leaves the room with an elegant flourish.

The silence grows.

"Please tell me that you didn't fuck my grandmother. Because that wasn't on my bingo card this year and I really don’t want to have nightmares about the two of you."

Ben snorts. "Jealous Petals?"

"Oh fuck, just get out of here." You cover your eyes with your hand. "I can't even look at you right now. You're such a slut Gramps."

Ben only laughs at you and sits down on the side of your bed. His fingers gently pull your hand away from your face so he can look at you again.

"I didn't fuck your grandmother. We knew each other forever ago." He's still holding on to your wrist, his thumb smoothing against the soft skin on the inside of you arm. "But I will say that she is just as beautiful now as she was then. Really aged like fine wine-“

"You're not making this better."

"You look a lot like her." Ben says quietly.

Did he just call me beautiful?

You sit there for another minute, eyes focused on where Ben is holding your wrist. “I’m really sorry for what I said about Homelander and your team. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You already apologized.”

“When?”

“When I found you.” His jaw tightens at the memory. “You apologized.”

“Oh.”

“Are you-“ He clears his throat, eyes raising from your wrist to look at you. “Are you feeling better?” You watch his eyes trace the bruises around your neck, the black eye, and the cast again.

And for a moment he almost looks guilty.

Why is he guilty?

“Yeah. All the plants are really helping. It always makes me feel better to be surrounded by so many.” You smile at him, but Ben doesn’t return it.

“Plant boy brought them by.” Ben grunts. “You probably should call him. He was fawning all over you like a fucking pussy, thought he was going to cry.”

You thought that was ironic given that your grandmother had just told you that Ben hadn’t left the couch since you were brought in, but you didn’t want to tease him about that. Not now anyway.

You look at the gardenia on the small bedside table, the one you know that’s from home. “Not that one.” You glance back at Ben.

“No. I told Annie to bring that one.” Ben says as if it’s difficult for him. “I figured if it was on your bedside table in your room it must be important.”

“It’s my favorite. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand with your good one. “Really Ben, thank you for everything.” 

“Sure.”

Ben isn’t really holding your hand, your left is laying on its back cradled in his right where his thumb continues to rub along the thin skin of the inside as if he wants to trace along the veins.

“How long was I with Elijah?”

“Four days.” Ben grits his teeth together.

It was a surprise to hear how long you’d been there aloud, but a part of you knew in your heart how long it had been. 

“That feels about right.”

“I should have come sooner.”‘Ben murmurs it more to himself than to you. “I shouldn’t have let you go-“

“You tried to stop me remember? I should have listened to you instead of insulting you. I just-“ The tears were coming back. “I wanted to believe Darren. He’s my brother I thought-“ Your voice breaks. “And then Elijah-“

The memories of everything that happened were coming back tenfold now, worse then they had when your grandmother was there. The monitors to the right of the bed are beeping frantically now as your heart rate begins to spike and you begin to sob.

“Fuck.” Ben says under his breath. “Look Petals it’s okay. It’s alright-“

“No it’s not. My brother sold me to Elijah because he had fucking poker debt and Elijah wanted me to fix all those fucked up plants and then he-“  Your can't finish the sentence. You pull your hand from Ben's grasp to rub at your eyes, trying to make the tears stop but they don't. Memories of Elijah holding you down against the couch come surging up followed by the anxiety ridden question "What if?"

Ben's entire body goes stiff. "What did he do?"

You level your gaze at your left hand where it lays in your lap not wanting to answer. Ben's hand comes to cup your chin raising your eyes back to his. His green eyes have hardened, a murderous fire burning behind them that makes you worry about anyone who would ever get in his way. You'd never seen him so mad before, not even at you when you pissed him off.

"What did he do?" Ben says again in a low growl.

"He broke my arm-" You swallow the sob. "And then he put me in a freezer for a few days and when he took me out he tried to-" The memory of his oppressive weight and expensive cologne fills your nose, followed by the feeling of his hand fastened around your throat.

"He touched you?" Ben spits.

"I stopped him." You say in a whisper.

"How?"

"He had a poppy seed in his teeth."

The look in Ben's eyes shifts to surprise. "Really?"

You nod with a sniffle as another round of fresh tears comes out of your eyes.

"I saw the aftermath of it." Ben sighs retracting his hand from your chin. "Didn't think you could do something like that."

"Me neither. Guess it was a "desperate times desperate measures" sort of situation." You swipe the back your hand across your eyes. "But I really do want to go home, forget any of this happened-" Your voice cracks a little.

Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder in an awkward patting motion. "It's okay, Petals."

It enough to make you cough out a laugh. "What are you doing?"

"I don't fucking know. I just-" He drops his hand from your shoulder looking angry. "I don't like it when you cry." Ben says it more to himself than to you, as if he's ashamed he admitted it.

The admission makes something flicker to life in the center of your chest, a pilot light to some furnace that you'd blown out a long time ago.

"And I don’t fucking know what to do when women cry! Because y'all are always so damn emotional and-" He continues looking frustrated.

When you pull him into a hug, Ben stops mid-sentence. It's difficult with one arm, but you try your best. It's the first one the two of you have ever shared, given how much Ben hated showing affection that made sense, but you wanted to hug him. He had saved your life and maybe you could be friends despite everything else.

And you wanted to hug you because even though it made Ben uncomfortable, he had tried to comfort you. You weren't sure why, all you knew was that it made you smile.

Ben doesn't move, he goes completely tense in your arms, not accustomed to this and unsure what to do next. A part of you thought it was kind of cute how awkward he was when it came to something like this, but another part felt bad for him. You liked hugging people and were accustomed to doing just that, but it hurt you to think that Ben hadn't had any experience with someone giving him a hug that wasn't attached to anything else.

"Thank you, Ben." You whisper, pressing your face into his t-shirt. The smell of his spicy cologne burns your nose in the best way, the feeling of his warmth taking away the residual chill you feel when you think of the memories from a few days ago.

This is better than I remember.

You think, remembering how it felt to wake up in his arms and feel how his body molded around yours as if he was made for you.

"You're welcome, Petals." He says tightly, the pleasant rumble of his words vibrating against your cheek. He's not hugging you back, but you didn't expect him to. Not when he was awkward when it came to things like this.

You pull back from him, wiping your eyes again with the back of your hand. The longer you sit there together, the longer the silence grows between the two of you, but it's not uncomfortable. It's filled with an energy that you can't describe, hovering in the space, alive and charged.

Ben slowly raises his hand to your face, brushing back a strand of your hair with a surprising gentleness, the roughness of his hand is a comfort and you weren't prepared for how his touch burns against your skin.

“Did you really think I’d leave you there?” Ben murmurs, his eyes are a light green in the sunlight, like the budding grass on a summer day.

“You were mad at me. I-“ You look down at your lap.

“So?" Ben raises your chin with his hand.  "I said some shit too."

It wasn't an apology, but you were sure it was as close as he was going to get. What was weirding you out a bit was how often he was touching you and how gently. Not that you thought he would hurt you, just that he'd never tried to be this open to touch before. 

“Yeah, but it’s different. You might have pissed me off but I would have come to get you anyway because I know how much what happened in Russia hurt you.” It was the truth. You wouldn't have let anyone stop you if you knew that Ben was trapped somewhere, even if the two of you had been in a fight. He was your friend, sort of anyway. And you took care of your friends.

Ben’s body tenses at the mention of Russia, the memories that flash through his eyes are not pleasant. “Then don’t you think I’d want to come get you if I understand how fucked up that is?”

You blink at him surprised. "I didn't think about that."

Ben smirks. "And I thought you knew everything Petals."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"Never." His hand is still cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing just barely over your cheek.

Electricity charges through the air and you feel your lips begin to tingle. You want to kiss him so badly, to pull him close and allow yourself to finally fall into him. The memory of the two of you on the couch the other day resurfaces when he almost kissed you, when he looked so different than he usually did, when he looked at you differently in a way that you weren't sure what it meant, the same way he was looking at you right now. The gardenia plant on the bedside table explodes with fresh blooms and Ben glances over it with a chuckle. It was embarrassing that he knew your deepest darkest secret and it caused a flush to creep into your cheeks.

Ben smiles the same way he did the morning you were curled up against his chest on your couch. His thumb dips to brush along your bottom lip and you inhale in surprise. It seems to jar Ben back into reality.

"I'm going to go feed Bean." Ben drops his hand and stands from the bed, but he's still smiling at you the same way he was a few seconds ago. "I'll be back in an hour."

You try not to feel the loss of his skin against yours and try not to focus on how good it felt for him to touch you so tenderly.

"You don't have to come back." You begin to say, trying to make the flush fade. "It's only one more night and-"

"It's not that bad." Ben shrugs. "I mean my butt isn't as comfy on this couch as the one at home." He cracks another smile repeating what he said when you took him to IKEA, but then something flashes in his eyes. "Besides, the apartment's too quiet without your bitching. Rather be here and witness it first hand."

Is he trying to say that he misses me? No. There's no way that he'd ever admit that.

"Get out of here, you ass." You try to push him, but he catches your hand.

"Be careful Petals, you don’t want to break the only arm you have left."

"I'm gonna break my foot off in your ass if you don’t get out of here." You groan rolling your eyes.

"Didn't think you’d be into that, but I'd be willing to try whatever you want Petals. As long as I get you all to myself" Ben is still holding on to your hand. "Do you-" His smirk shifts into something softer and he swallows. "Want me to bring you anything from home?"

You imagine that his voice changes when he says the word "home." But you don't imagine the way it sticks in your chest when he does.

"No, I think I'm okay." You frown down at your cast mournfully. "I'm never going to be able to finish any of my crochet projects with this thing."

"Yes, because that's why most people are upset when they break an arm."

"I thought you'd know by now that I'm not like everyone else."

"Trust me I noticed." Ben chuckles with a smile that makes your heartbeat stutter.

"Don’t knock it til you try it Gramps. I thought you'd be old enough to appreciate the quality of handmade goods. Didn’t your generation still do that or whatever?"

Ben rolls his eyes, but then he squeezes your hand so quick you think that you imagined it. "I'll be back. Try not to give your grandmother a hard time while I'm gone."

"You think that me giving her a hard time will ruin your chances with her?" You snort.

"I already tried years ago." Ben shrugs. "Then again she might give me another chance. It's been a while"

"You couldn't handle me then Benjamin and you can't handle me now." Your grandmother says as she re-enters the room holding a steaming cup of tea for you and a cup for herself. "But hurry back. I want to beat you at poker one more time before I go back to Illinois."

"I let you win." Ben grouses.

"Whatever you say sweetie." She sits back down on the chair to resume knitting, but you catch a glimmer of her smile quirking the ends of her lips.

Ben only rolls his eyes and throws you one last look filled with an emotion that you can't place before he vanishes out the door. And you try not to think about how empty the room is when he's gone, how the hell he knows your grandmother, and why your heart was skipping like a kid frolicking in a field full of sunflowers.

A/N: I know Darren didn't get got in this chapter, but he is going to come back into play next chapter. But this one was definitely bloody... Kinda was horrified with the place my mind went when she was killing those men with those poppies, but I like to think that people really do underestimate what she can do because they think she "just makes the plants grow" when in reality it's more complicated and way more powerful than people think. And I know, a lot of more denial, but we are starting to see the walls beginning to crumble and the unraveling between the two of them as they both begin to come to terms with their feelings.

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love to hear what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series please let me know :)

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[onismdaydream]

if your asks are closed please don’t feel obligated to reply to this!! i just love love love your writing and keeping up with your blog in general, so i figured you should be my first ask!

gentle dom!megumi with daddy kink!reader. i don’t care about anything else. i just need megumi praise in my life.

hii!! sorry it took me a few days to respond but i did write a little something for this! also thank you, you're so sweet <333 i haven't really written daddy kink in a bit so i hope its okay and that you like it !

tw: MDNI. afab reader. aged up character. daddy kink. p in v. pet names and praise. not proofread. (0.5k)

all you can focus on is megumi. his hot breath hitting your skin as he whispers sweet and filthy words, his hands settled on your hips to keep you in place, the drag of his cock against your walls. he surrounds you, envelops your entire being, fills every tiny crevice, until you're drowning in him.

it's overwhelming, but if he were to pull away, you'd surely die. you wouldn't be able to withstand it, not when everything feels so damn good.

“taking me so well,” he murmurs, forehead pressing against yours so he takes up your vision, too. eclipsing the dimmed glow of the lamp, the features of megumi’s face soften. angelic and ethereal. “such a good girl for me.”

it's like you turn into putty at his praise, heart feeling soft and mushy from simple words that are uttered with such adoration. you don't think anyone has ever made you feel this way before — not even close. megumi makes you feel so loved and treasured and safe. it's why you can let your guard down around him, the walls you've put up crumbling to dust as he presses his lips to yours.

it's so much, too much, and you can't stop the words tumbling from your swollen lips.

“please, daddy — ‘m so close!”

his hips stutter in their pace, his cock hitting deep inside you as he squeezes at your hips. you open your mouth again, a rushed apology at the tip of your tongue but the groan that rumbles through megumi’s chest stops you.

“say it…” he licks his lips, dark and long eyelashes fluttering open to reveal his blown out pupils focusing on you with such desire. “can you say that again for me, pretty?”

it's much more timid as you repeat the word, your heart seemingly ready to burst through your ribcage. but megumi is there with his thumb rubbing against your cheek, the action so tender that it makes you want to cry.

“don't be nervous, baby. wanna hear you say it again, please.” his voice is soft, his tone sweet enough that you know you can back out if you wanted to. you know that megumi would never force you to do anything, that he would never pressure you. and you love him for that, always putting your needs first.

“daddy, please,” you try again, slowly regaining your usual confidence. it's not completely unnatural falling from your mouth, a warm and familiar comfort surrounding the word. the comfort that he provides for you.

his thumb is hot against your skin, nearly burning with this newfound desire. he drags it towards your mouth, pulling at your bottom lip as he watches you with such intensity. like he's committing you and this moment to memory.

“yeah,” megumi breathes out after a moment, hips beginning to grind against yours once more. you gasp at the sensation, his pubic bone pressing on your clit, sending a new wave of pleasure in your veins. “daddy’s got you. gonna make you feel so good, okay?”

[deonsx]

If They Cheat On You

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno

Content: Cheating..

Dazai Osamu

The man you loved more than yourself in the world doesn't come home anymore, even if he comes, he comes drunk and late at night. When you saw him like this, you asked him a lot of questions, but he dismissed them all with the excuse of "work"

It was one of those nights, you sat on your seat overlooking the sea and started waiting for Osamu, but he didn't come early as usual, hours passed, you only thought about him, you had no patience anymore, finally the sound of the key was heard and the door opened, a familiar silhouette entered, turned on the light of the dark room and made you see him clearly. messy hair, rumpled trench coat, unbuttoned white shirt, and a faint smell of alcohol

You stood up from the couch and directed your step towards the brunette who finally noticed you. You looked at his indifferent face. His face was no longer looking at you with those tender, happy and loving eyes as before.. his gloomy face was dragging you into the darkness, "You-" just as he was talking, you saw bite marks under his scattered bandages and The truth you never wanted to accept has finally been revealed

Your eyes filled with tears as if they were burning, the tears stinging your eyes made you wrinkle your face "Why..? Just tell me.." the seriousness on his face did not change but the brunette let out a deep breath "I'm sorry you're right you deserved at least an explanation s/o" your eyes filled with pain even more. His face, indifferent and not caring about you anymore, was hurting you. “Now..I don't feel anything for you anymore”

Chuuya Nakahara

Your boyfriend was sleeping around at work for a long time and this made you suspicious after a long time, you finally decided to go to his workplace. It was the middle of the night, everywhere was dark except for one part, in that part, white light was leaking from under Chuuya's office, he was a hard worker. You knew that's why you never insisted, but now... you hear moaning sounds coming from your boyfriend's office

"No, this can't be real" you chose to tell yourself false stories in a light whisper and denied seeing the truth, but your steps were slowly approaching those voices, you could see Chuuya through the glass door and..a blonde girl was sitting on his lap.. "You smell of wine, my love" Chuuya was thin. He said it while kissing a certain woman's hands..the lies he told you...was he telling her now?

You had the strength to open the glass door even after seeing this.. slowly your hand reached for the door handle and the door opened wide to look at the faces of the duo who had not seen you yet and yes, now they were both looking at you with serious but nervous eyes. "S/o...?" The name he bestowed on you with kisses on your warm skin every night was now telling you while another woman was in his arms

He looked away but then the woman got off his lap and hid behind him "What, you think I'm going to hurt her?" You said it with a smile of pain, but chuuya said the thing that broke you, "Please don't hurt her, she's not guilty."

Fyodor Dostoyevski

A new woman had come to the place where you worked with your boyfriend, she was the same age as you and a model-like woman. She was brunette, tall, with colorful eyes and a melodious tongue. You were always suspicious of someone like her, but you trusted Fyodor very much. A month passed and you only saw the woman in the mornings. Apart from that, no one could find her, and this made you suspicious

Something escaped their mouth as they listened to their co-workers gossiping "This new woman is around that guy every day" Your friend said with a pout on her face and the others agreed, you frowned "She has a boyfriend? How long have you known?" When you asked this, the surroundings fell silent, everyone had a worried expression on their faces, they were so relaxed that they didn't realize you were there

They turned to you, who was leaning behind them in the doorway, and coughed rapidly, "Nothing! Come on guys, let's get to work!" Everyone disappeared in a hurry, but that was enough to make you cringe. You weren't stupid, but you had some ideas about who this man was, your boyfriend Fyodor? Was it him? You used to leave work first every night, but before this sitation we used to go out always together

You waited for it to be night and you waited for the message that Fyodor sent you every night. Finally, your phone rang and every day's message was mailed to you in the same way. "Honey, I have a busy workday today, see you tomorrow." The sign you were waiting for came, you slowly walked towards the direction of his office, that is, the basement. No one would enter this floor unless something important happened. After all, it was the boss's office. "Slow down, dear!" a girl moan?

Finally everything came true and it was that girl's voice.. you didn't want to go in and show yourself and you didn't want to cry in front of the door you quickly ran out of the office and went to the shared house you lived with your boyfriend and packed your things then before turning off your phone you sent him one last message "I throw away the one who gave me pain, I'm leaving you”

Nikolai Gogol

It's been a long time since you've been together, every moment you spent together made your heart soar and butterflies fly in your belly, he made you feel very special, he was with you in every moment, these are what you thought when you looked at your pregnancy test, the butterflies in your belly have given way to a beautiful child

You were going to give him this surprise when he got home and that's why you decided to tell him that you were not at home. You sent a message saying "Honey, I'm going out to have fun with friends tonight" Now all you had to do was wait for your boyfriend

But your boyfriend didn't come home, it's been a long time, but he didn't come home. Under normal circumstances, he would come through the door of your house sulking, having finished his work... you called him to make sure and he answered the phone after ringing twice. "Hello, love?" Hearing his affectionate voice on the other end of the phone made you even more happy to wait. "Nikolai, I called to let you know that I will be late," you said with a chirp. After 1-2 minutes, you hung up the phone and continued to wait for him

It was 10:00pm when you heard the door lock and yes you could finally hear her chirping laughter but you thought "What is she laughing at??" You thought it must be one of his stupid jokes again. When the door opened, you waited to greet him, but when he walked in with a woman, your world fell apart. Your boyfriend's laughter faded quickly, his face looked at you with tension. "You/him?" You were just looking at the woman he brought with him

You had a big fight and you even tried to attack the woman but instead of explaining to you nikolai protected the woman and this drove you crazy "Were you cheating on me!? all this time? was everything a lie!" You slapped Nikolai hard, but he didn't speak, the woman next to him spoke to you instead. "Please don't hurt him!" what.. were you to blame?? Why did they put you in this position?

You quickly left that house with the child in your womb, you cut off all ties with him without needing to tell him. Before leaving, he said only one thing to you: "I couldn’t leave you when I should have left.. I'm sorry”

Jouno Saigiku

Everything was thought out thoroughly, a beautiful table and official candles that highlighted the romance of the table, a nice meat dinner, everything was ready for our 3rd anniversary, and now you just had to wait...

Hours passed but no one came, Jouno didn't come.. he was late some days of the week these days, but you got confirmation from him whether he could come for today's surprise... but he didn't show up, you decided to call him as the clock hit 1 am. He didn't answer, you sent him a message but he didn't reply

Now you were just worried and you didn't know what to do, it hurt to be ignored, he had promised you but he wasn't here, what if something happened to him? You called each of his coworkers and they said he had already left work. To his surprise, he had already finished work 2 hours before your scheduled time.. so where was he now?

You just waited.. the clock struck the morning and you were desperately worried about him on the table where there were already melted candles. When you heard the door being unlocked with the key, you got up with excitement, he didn't care if he was late or he forgot, we were just wondering if he was hurt or not, until the door opened and jouno with messy hair and Until you see come with kiss marks on your jacket

"What is this jouno..?" You asked the confused man as your eyes scanned all traces of him, He didn't answer and that drove you crazy You pulled his shirt and started yelling at him "3 YEARS! 3 WHOLE YEARS AND YOU CHOOSE TO CHEAT ON ME ON OUR ANNIVERSARY!?" His hands moved to the ones you were choking him with and he moved his head away "This day wasn't special...it's been 5 months s/o"

Enjoy!

[becca-e-barnes]

The Bad Day at Work

I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃

Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography

Minors, do not interact

You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.

You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.

"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.

You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.

"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.

"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."

He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.

Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.

"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.

"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."

Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?

It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.

I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.

Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.

"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.

"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."

You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.

"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.

That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.

You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.

Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.

"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.

"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.

You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.

Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.

You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.

"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.

The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.

It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.

"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.

"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."

The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.

"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?

You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.

"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.

He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.

"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."

[saekkas]

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

summary: rin's becoming more human the longer he's with you. he doesn't mind at all.

tags: f!reader, merfolk au, shark mermaid hybrid rin, human reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, falling in love, cultural differences, kissing.

wc: 2k

notes: i'm honestly very proud of this. i hope i did rinnie justice!

rin normally doesn't care about anything else but hunting, it's a given with how quickly he's growing. only months before his eleventh birthday, rin's already outgrown the other merchildren in his pod.

his tail is getting bigger, stronger, and he's starting to catch up to the wild orcas roaming the big blue seas which he calls home. it's a pretty thing, sleek and smooth but scaly.

black as the hair on his head with coralline blue and teal swirling up the limb, he looks like the fearsome predator he is. not only that, but his skin is also becoming thicker even his sharp nails can't scratch through them like they used to.

what he most prides in himself though, are his teeth. shark teeth are unique in the way they shred, falling out every year to signify their age. rin collects his, keeping every single one on his neck, wrapped around a long piece of netting he found near the shore.

he has ten wrapped around his neck, proudly showing off their sharpness and glimmer to anyone who passes.

the coral reefs are beautiful this time of year, they're teeming with life and growing into their colors. rin's laying among one, absentmindedly running his finger through an anemone, watching as the clown fish scatter at his motions.

the sun is bright ahead, casting a light that shines directly on him. he loves the feeling. basking under the sun yet not burning because of his skin.

minutes or even hours go by. rin can never seem to tell the time, not when the current flows through his gills. he almost falls asleep right where he is when a shadow passes up head. rin's eyes flutter open and it only takes him a moment to propel himself to the surface, his hands tightly gripping at what he assumes to be a seal.

he flinches when your scream pierces his ears. even though the sound is cloudy under water, rin moves back, letting his hands fall to his sides. his dorsal fin breaches the water as he circles you, keeping his distance before swimming closer.

only to receive a kick to the face.

rin grunts, feeling the telltale signs of a tooth shredding. he keeps it in one hand, letting his tail push him out of the water. his head pops out, bright teal eyes and messy flock of dark hair surrounding his visage. he's surprised you don't react as dramatically as you did.

rin isn't as interested with humans as the rest of his pod but he's followed enough fishing boats around to understand and speak their language.

he eyes you, stiff as a plank on your surfing board. you're a small thing, weak looking, and pruned. he wonders what you're doing out in the middle of the ocean all alone.

at first, all that comes out of his mouth are hums and growls. he's trying to communicate the best he can but when you start to lift a leg again, which rin thinks is meant to be a threat, he stops.

"are you a merman?" your voice is shaky at best, as is your entire body. your hands clench around the shells you've been collecting, ready to throw it at the unfamiliar creature. "my grandparents used to tell me about you. i didn't think you were real."

fascination replaces the fear in your eyes, and rin feels himself stiffen. you look to be the same age he is, and you have nothing to protect yourself with. he sighs internally, letting out a low chirp that you seem to perk at.

"can you talk?" you use your legs, kicking against the calm waters to bring yourself closer to him. rin leans back, cautiously flicking water at your face with his tail. you giggle at his action. "i won't hurt you. in fact, you're the one who could hurt me if you wanted to."

he calms a little at that. rin has always been the cautious one, especially with the way humans use their machines to trap his kind for amusement. he nods, pointing at you and then at himself, speaking lowly, "i thought you were a seal. please don't swim alone like this."

he dives back into the depths, only looking back at your form one last time when he hears you yell something at him. your name. rin smiles, clenching the tooth wrapped around his palm, and swims back home.

the seasons pass, the necklace around rin's neck becoming heavier as he grows. he's recently turned twenty-one yet there are only twenty pieces of his teeth dangling around his neck.

he doesn't wear the eleventh one because of you.

through the years, rin's become verily acquainted with your presence. friendship, you had called it. at first it was another accidental meeting between the two of you when he was out hunting near the shore. one thing led to another and rin finds himself too used to your laughter, the little quirks that you possess, and the differences between your worlds.

he's a full-grown shark now. his shoulders have broadened, his tail a sight to behold. he has the ability to roam the oceans, swim across the world, yet the waters feel empty without you beside him. rin has to shake the thought out of his head when he hears your voice calling out.

the waters of the open ocean ripple when you kick and slam your feet, and it has rin shaking his head. he launches himself at your board, hearing your maniacal laughter when he breaches the surface. he tips your surfboard, effectively sending you right into the water.

"that's no fair!" you push the wet hair out of your face, splashing rin when his head pops out of the water. "i never get to surprise you."

rin flicks his tail, sending a wave of water right at your face. he chuckles lowly when you splutter. humans and their need for air never seem to not amuse him.

"my brother can probably hear you at the bottom of the ocean with how loud you were being."

you snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. "i'm sure sae is comfortably unaware of my presence in his secret cave."

rin only chuckles at that, swimming closer to wrap a hand around your waist, pushing you up against his chest.

that's another thing rin has become acquainted with ever since meeting you. skin ship. the act of touching itself is uncommon among shark folk. gentle caresses and acts of service are reserved only for family or mates. with strangers and even friends, aggression is usually what he uses; play fights, hunting, preying.

and here he is, letting you touch him and take away all his time as if it were a normality.

the worst part about it? rin feels as if he wants it, needs it. he can barely spend an entire day without you, your smile and gentle touches soothe him in ways he can't understand. he hates to admit it, but sae was right. he's been too blind all this time, like a guppy threading through murky waters.

he just needs to own up to it.

"hello? earth to rin?"

his eyes come back into focus, solely fixed on you. there's a smile on your face, your feet softly kicking against the water. the sun is setting behind you, and rin feels his heart beat out of his chest at the sight.

he hums, a mere flick of his tail sending you both forward. he wraps his arms around your waist tighter, careful with his nails, and helps you stay afloat against the water.

he wonders if you can feel the thrumming in his chest against yours.

"someone's distracted today," you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck.

moments of intimacy between you are sparce but they're special, especially on days where you both want nothing but to float away in the sea. his nails, pointed and sharp, trail up your waist and settle on your lower back.

he's not sure what's making you shiver. the cold temperature or his touch.

"something special happen?"

rin nuzzles his nose against your neck, right where your gills are supposed to be if you were like him. a low rumble sounds deep in his chest, one you recognize to be a greeting. one he never forgets to gift you.

"i have something for you." his voice by your neck is low, deep as the ocean you swim in. you feel his hands roam down to your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his waist. when they do, you hear him sigh, his dorsal fin slumping in content.

you watch with amusement, lifting a finger to caress the limb. it makes him groan, wrapping his hands around you tighter, before suddenly diving down into the depths, bringing you with him.

his movement are fast, and you try to keep your eyes open, even when the salt stings. rin does this often. most times when he's flustered or something's bothering him. today, you assume, it's a combination of both.

when he breaches the surface, you inhale as much oxygen as you can. looking around, you see that he's brought you onto a small stack of land that's covered in sand, surrounded by miles of water.

"i have something for you," he repeats, his eyes unblinking as he stares at you. "i want you to have it."

you let him open your palm, watch as he drops a necklace decorated with pearls and a single tooth in the middle.

"is this," you gasp, looking at the necklace around his neck and back to, what is now, yours. "rin. you didn't have to."

"i didn't." he nods as he says his words, now shyly avoiding your gaze. his dorsal fin stands rigid against his back, his tail anxiously wrapping around one of your legs. he's so different yet so similar to you, in so many ways. "i wanted to."

"thank you," you whisper softly, leaning over to where he sits by the edge of the water. "i want to give you something too."

"what is it?" his tail flicks against your thigh, the texture smooth and scaly, hefty above the skin. it's a weight you're used to. a weight that grounds you. "i'd like anything you give me."

there's the beginnings of a blush on rin's cheek and you silently giggle, wondering whether shark folk are always so brash and obvious with their words.

"well, i'll hold you to it."

rin hesitates, freezing when you lift a hand to his neck, gently caressing the gills on the area. he blinks, as if in a daze as your hand moves to his face, lingering on his cheek.

he's never let anyone come this close before. you've never come this close before. it feels foreign yet so much like home. he sighs, closing his eyes and slumping most of his weight on you, nuzzling his face into your hold.

he feels you lean down and blinks his eyes open when there's a gentle pressure on his lips. it leaves him tingling and he looks at you with wide eyes. "what did you do? what was that?"

"it's called a kiss." you swipe the hair that's covering his eyes away, still keeping a hand on his cheek. "it's what humans do to express their affection."

rin tilts his head, his tail coiling around your leg tighter. "you have affections for me?"

"i do," you say before laughing when he coos suddenly. he dives into the water right after, hiding his blush as only half of his head pops out.

"i have affections for you too." the sound of his voice is muffled by the water, but his excitement is clear with the way he's shaking. almost like a fish out of sea. a rin out of his element. "i liked that.. kiss too. can we do it again?"

"we can do it as many times as you want," you answer with a grin, tapping your thigh with a hand. "i can't kiss you when you're all the way there, though."

rin waddles closer to you, pulling himself onto the sand. letting his tail curl around your body, he smiles with sharp teeth as you pull him into another kiss. he can definitely get used to this.

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

ALBUM FIC OF THE DAY: Halcyon by @justagalwhowrites (15/?)

A LYRICS COLLECTION BASED ON GOLDIE AND JOEL

TRACKLIST VIBES

Did I spend the whole day thinking about the last Halcyon chapter? Yes. The whole damn day. The only way to deal with was being a big girl and listening to every Taylor song that reminded me of them. They are my favorite couple, you can blame Kit for it.

GOLDIE AND JOEL CODED LYRICS

“We are alone with our changing minds, we fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds or fades in time” (State of Grace)

“So you were never a saint and I loved in shades of wrong, we learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts” (State of Grace)

“These are the hands of fate, you're my Achilles heel, this is the golden age of somethin' good And right and real” (State of Grace)

“Put your lips close to mine as long as they don't touch. Out of focus, eye to eye, til the gravity's too much” (Treacherous)

“I'd be smart to walk away but you're quicksand” (Treacherous)

“All we are is skin and bone trained to get along, forever going with the flow, but you're friction” (Treacherous)

“That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would follow you, follow you home” (Treacherous)

“I guess we fell apart in the usual way and the story's got dust on every page but, sometimes, I wonder how you think about it now and I see your face in every crowd” (Holy Ground)

“Words, how little they mean when you're a little too late. I stood right by the tracks, your face in a locket” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“We had a beautiful, magic love there, what a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“In dreams, I meet you in warm conversation and we both wake in lonely beds and different cities” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting. Silence, the train runs off its tracks. Kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen? Hang up, give up and, for the life of us, we can't get back” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“But if the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?” (Death By A Thousand Cuts)

“Hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness” (False God)

“There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven. I'll tell you the truth but never goodbye” (Daylight)

“I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked, clearin' the air I breathed in the smoke” (Daylight)

“I once believed love would be burning red, but it's golden like daylight” (Daylight)

“Is it insensitive for me to say "get your shit together so I can love you"? Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything or do you just not want to?” (Renegade)

“You fire off missiles cause you hate yourself but do you know you're demolishing me? And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave” (Renegade)

“Someday, when you leave me I bet these memories follow you around” (Wildest Dreams)

“This love is good, this love is bad, this love is alive back from the dead. These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to me” (This Love)

“We’re a shot in the darkest dark oh no, oh no, I'm unarmed” (Say Don’t Go)

“Why’d you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screaming” (Say Don’t Go)

“Cause you kiss mе and it stops time and I'm yours, but you're not mine” (Say Don’t Go)

“Truth is, I can't pretend it's platonic, it's just ended” (Now That We Don’t Talk)

“Was it over when she laid down on your couch? Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?” (Is It Over Now?)

“One thing after another, fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications, and I have to say, by the way I just may like some explanations” (Question…?)

“Did you realize out of time? She was on your mind with some dickhead guy that you saw that night” (Question…?)

“And maybe it's the past that's talking, screaming from the crypt telling me to punish you for things you never did” (The Great War)

“I was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight” (Midnight Rain)

“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain” (Midnight Rain)

“Please, don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere” (New Year’s Day)

“Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames If we know the steps anyway?” (loml)

“As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned cause love's never lost when perspective is earned” (Peter)

“And the years passed like scenes of a show, the professor said to write what you know looking backwards might be the only way to move forward” (The Manuscript)

“The only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores” (The Manuscript)

“What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?” (Guilty As Sin)

“if you wanted me, you really should've showed” (the 1)

“I persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?” (the 1)

“I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything but I know I miss you” (betty)

“There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me but if it's all the same to you It's the same to me” (‘tis the damn season)

“I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave but if it's okay with you, it's okay with me” (‘tis the damn season)

“I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch. Everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you” (gold rush)

“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes, my mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore” (gold rush)

“I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland, my house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you” (ivy)

“I'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time” (ivy)

“it's a war, tt's the goddamn fight of my life and you started it” (ivy)

“Pages turn and stick to each other, wages earned and lessons learned but I, I'm right where you left me” (right where you left me)

“If our love died young, I can't bear witness, and it's been so long, if you ever think you got it wrong, I'm right where you left me” (right where you left me)

“A simple complication, miscommunications lead to fallout. So many things that I wish you knew, so many walls up, I can't break through” (The Story Of Us)

“Don't you smile at me and ask me how I've been, don't you say you've missed me if you don't want me again, you don't know how much I feel I love you still” (Don’t You)

“I'm on the bleachers dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time” (You Belong With Me)

“All this time, how could you not know, baby? You belong with me” (You Belong With Me)

TRACKLIST (all songs mentioned)

State of Grace

Treacherous

Holy Ground

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Death By A Thousand Cuts

False God

Daylight

Renegade

Wildest Dreams

This Love

Say Don't Go

Now That We Don’t Talk

Is It Over Now?

Question...?

The Great War

Midnight Rain

New Year's Day

loml

Peter

The Manuscript

Guilty As Sin

the 1

betty

‘tis the damn season

gold rush

ivy

right where you left me

The Story Of Us

Don't You

You Belong With Me

[serpentsillusion]

|| Sebastian finally meets his match ||

A foreshadowing with Jess

Teasing, NSFW, Dom play, mild language and aggression ⚠️🥵 🔞 (maybe?) Characters aged up.

My first "real" smut-ish post. Let me know what you think and if I should continue this story! 🔥🤭 Plus new art!

One time, Sebastian let Jess borrow the shirt off his back after accidentally falling into the lake on one of their adventures in 5th year. Nearing the end of their 7th year, he completely forgot she still had his shirt in her possession. A familiar smell of Roses now entangling that piece of fabric that once belonged to him.

"I like having friends in my debt." He said. One time.

Jess remembered those words he spoke when he saved her ass in the restricted section from that damned poltergeist a couple years ago. She never did give his shirt back. Until the night she remembered she had a debt to "repay".

And so she went, a clever idea fabricated in her mind....

The night was long and exhausting, Sebastian decided to finally go back to his dorm to get some well deserved rest. He entered the door to his dorm only to be met with a very meticulous shadow meeting him in his room.

Much to Sebastian's surprise after a long night of reading, studying and doing research, there she was. Sitting pretty atop his bed wearing his shirt, and nothing else but bare skin underneath.

"I thought I was in your debt once, Sallow" she said in the shadows, a coy smirk starting on her lips.

"What are you doing here alone Jess? How did you get in here? And in MY bed at that?" He stopped frozen in his tracks, unable to make a sound at first. He slowly started looking down at her body, realizing that his shirt was the only thing she had on. He was shocked and completely beside himself. "Is this actually happening right now? Holy shit!" He thought to himself silently. She was silent at a reply.

Then.. a malicious smile starting to form on his own mouth.

"Looks like we will have to make a compromise then sweetheart." Sebastian spoke back sharply, a dark hunger and raging fire slowly starting in his eyes as he observed her body,looking at her slowly up and down, analyzing the woman in front of him, attempting to resist the very temptation right in front of him. Suddenly and then all at once feeling a heat in his body he never knew. She was challenging him.

"A compromise?" She added,"I don't like playing fair Sallow, and you know that. "I like breaking the rules every now and then, and I can be sneaky." She laughed softly, staring at him in his deep brown eyes, her body not moving but still.

"You are a devious woman, you know that Jess?" He said. His eyes tearing her apart slowly, silently. He could feel himself quickly hardened in his trousers, and starting to throb. The area constricting under the fabric he was wearing.

"Vicious and domineering, you might add as well Sallow. Her eyes lowered to the lower half of his body, completely aware of what she was doing to him. "If you want your precious shirt back, you're going to have to pry it off my body yourself." She switched, a fire and dark hunger burning in her own eyes. A challenge indeed.

He growled almost silently, breathing out slowly but almost trembling as he said, "You have absolutely no idea what you are asking for." Sebastian added, clenching his knuckles, feeling an insatiable heat moving to the lower half of his body. "What are you trying to prove being here alone anyway?" He eyes look around quickly, sharply to see that the other boys' beds are empty and it is way past curfew.

"What? Have you finally met your own match Sebastian?" Her eyes not taking her sights off his, her piercing gaze shooting directly through his and his shoots back to meet hers again. "Maybe I want to see exactly what you're made of Sebastian; Maybe there's a reason you talk up all that mess you do, but you can't actually back it up." Sebastian's eyes widened. "And don't worry about where the others are, I took care of the boys on my own. They won't be back anytime soon." (They were bribed into camping that night on an "assignment" Professor Shah just so happened to "come up with" last minute for "extra curricular credit")

His eyes pierced right back through hers like a lion preying on a gazelle waiting to pounce. With a very low growl he shuddered "I would highly suggest you go back to your room now Jess, unless you are actually looking to get harmed tonight." Sebastian starts to shiver slightly unable to contain the building urge to completely divide and conquer the power that Jess thinks she has in that very much smaller frame she possesses, much smaller and more fragile than Sebastian's. Adrenaline building in his system. But Jess was tough, and she persisted.

"The other boys are gone for the night Sallow, no need to play games with me." She says, perching herself on her legs, one slightly under the other. "I didn't bother eating dinner tonight either, what's the point when I like playing with my food before I indulge." "You said so yourself, don't you love a woman with an appetite?"

Sebastian attempted to swallow his nerves, His eyes widened and then grew darker and more intense, but so did hers as they continued to display their own levels of dominance with each other, not breaking eye contact in anyway. Sebastian cracked his fingers beside him and he let out one last low growl before his eyes turned from dark and hungry, to completely overcome with a murderous, primal feeling he had never felt before. His face became more and more blush and hot around his cheeks.

"I'm warning you Jess." He urged "I don't want you to end up in a position you don't want to be in." He insisted, eyes like the burning pits of hell at this point. Animalistic in Nature.

Jess adjusts herself once more before adding "Maybe I want to be in different positions tonight Sallow, I'm not as fragile as you might think, and there is no one here to stop you." She shoots one last equally primal gaze unto his. "If you don't know how to use that mouth of yours, Maybe someone should teach you."

Sebastian breaks, he lets out a quivering breath and he can no longer contain himself. The last thing he sees is that pretty figure illuminated by the light of the open door sitting on top of his bed smirking casually at him before he loses all senses. He VERY quickly approaches her, slamming the door behind him...

Ft. My newest art! 🎨 I hope you guys enjoyed the tease! 🤭😆 Jess would absolutely destroy this man, mentally and physically. 🐍✨

[crabbunch]

*boats ur boys*

Etho is sitting on the edge of the cobblestone platform, staring out into the deep dark. Impulse and Bdubs are up on the surface, collecting sand. Joel leans against the wall, and watches Etho, and savours what might be the last moments he will be able to share with his soulbound.

Alone, at least.

Etho is a strange, quiet guy, and Joel thinks that he would probably be okay to let the silence hover around them for as long as he could continue the guise of being quiet as to not wake up a warden. Joel knows that they are high enough to be perfectly safe, but he lets Etho have the stillness of the moment anyways.

For a little bit, anyways. After about half an hour, his fingers start to itch, and his faces twitches. He'd love to bite something, but he'll have to settle with talking.

"Etho," Joel says loudly.

Etho jumps a little, and turns around to face Joel, eyes wide. "Yeah?"

"We've been soulbound for ages now," Joel starts, walking over to sit next to him. "And I hardly know anything about you."

Etho blinks. "I mean, really? I can't think of anything you don't know."

"Your face," Joel replies immediately. "I don't know what it looks like. Take off the mask."

"My face?" Etho's voice cracks. "Joel, I think there's been a misunderstanding-"

"I'm not flirting," Joel backpedals. "I mean, I was flirting a little I guess, but mostly actually I was just curious to see what you look like underneath the mask, you know?"

"I'm not wearing a mask," Etho says.

"...Etho, I can see the mask on your face," Joel argues, squinting at the blue fabric.

"I'm not wearing a mask!" Etho insists. "That's just- my face just looks like that!"

"Sure, sure," Joel says. "That's- that's fine. We're only soulbound, we're only- look, Etho, I know you like jokes, but I seriously want a straight answer from you right now! If you're uncomfortable with showing me, that's fine, just- tell me, you know?"

"I-" Etho blinks, and blinks, and blinks. "Joel, I am being serious."

Etho pats his pockets, and pulls a potato out of his pocket. He takes an exaggerated bite of it for Joel's sake, and Joel-

"What," Joel says. "Wait. You mean to tell me- you just have a section of skin that's blue in exactly the shape of a mask."

"Yeah," Etho says. "Do you wanna feel it?"

Joel leans over and gently presses a finger to Etho's cheek. He rubs it back and forth- it feels exactly like normal skin.

"Wow," Joel breathes. "Wow. Okay. Uh, thank you?"

Etho's eyes crinkle happily. "Sure thing. I'm really not as private as most people think."

"And you don't say anything about it?" Joel says indignantly, leaning closer to Etho. He presses his shoulder into Etho's side and leans his head against his shoulder.

Etho gives him a strange look. "No?"

"Right, right, forgot that you were you," Joel laughs. "...who else knows?"

"Bdubs," says Etho. Joel's stomach twists uncomfortably. "Cleo, Beef, Doc. Pause, I think? That's probably it."

"Right," says Joel. "Uh, we should probably get going. People to kill, stuff to burn, you know?"

"Are you going to miss this?" Etho asks instead of replying. He looks away from the general direction of Joel back towards the ancient city.

"Are you?" Joel shoots back. He doesn't think he could stand to admit that it will feel like loosing a limb when he and Etho unravel from each other and go back to living their solitary lives if Etho doesn't feel the same way.

"I'm not sure," Etho says thoughtfully. "I guess I'll find out once we die."

"Right," says Joel.

He stares out into the darkness and tries to see whatever it is Etho sees in it- he doesn't quite get it, probably, but he comes a little close. The empty-quiet-longing tug in his gut helps.

Did you love me, Joel does not ask. Did you love this like you love your quiet places and your jokes and Bdubs, or was the rush of everything I felt too much? He does not ask, because he cannot bear to hear any answer.

"You're right, we should get going," Etho stands up with a chuckle. He rubs the back of his head and offers Joel a hand to help him stand up.

"We better find Impulse and Bdubs before they get themselves killed," Joel agrees. "Idiots. They'd walk right off a cliff without realizing it if we weren't there for them."

"Oh, you know Bdubs," Etho says in the same tone of voice he mocked Joel with after he got them both killed. "He's fragile."

"Y-yeah," Joel stutters, and they walk out of the caves into the bright noonday sun, and Joel does not think about the ways Etho loves at all.

[novafire-is-thinking]

I’ve seen a few people passing around a uquiz and doing it for their OCs. I only do these if they give interesting/insightful results for my top favorite OCs, and this one definitely meets my standards:

What kind of love are you?

LOVE AS A FORCE OF NATURE

Your love is like whiplash -- it comes in with the rain, it blows the doors wide open. When you fall in love, it is sudden and hard and immense. It is powerful. It is earthshaking and world-ending. Nature is a force, and that force can be destructive if you're not careful. See how the world is doused in gasoline and set on fire -- your love consumes, your love takes, your love burns. You're hot and cold all at once, a hurricane and a wildfire bound together in skin, and when you're in love, it can feel like it's eating you alive from the inside out. When you love, it is with everything you have because it is everything you have. Be careful, darling, because not everyone survives the storm.

LOVE AS YOUTH

Your love is buoyant. Your love is bountiful. It is ageless, and it will never age. When you fall in love, it is breathless. It is joyful and endless, it is magnificent. You think it, like your youth, will last forever. Youth is eternal, and so is your love. Your love skips rocks and tells stories, your love roasts marshmallows over fires, and laughs freely. Your love does not take itself too seriously. Your love is jumping into puddles just to watch the water splash, and dancing in the rain, and it is watching Sunday morning reruns of cartoons to feel young once more. Your love is forever, forever young. Being loved by you is to be loved by the summer months. And those never end, do they? Well, I won't tell if you don't.

LOVE AS A CHOICE

You choose to love. Love does not come to you easily, but every day you wake up and choose it. It would be so easy, wouldn't it, to grow cold and callous and grim. But you rise to greet the world, making the conscious effort to find something, anything to love. When you fall for someone, you do not kid yourself of their flaws. Instead, you resolve to see them for who they are, mistakes and all and you love them all the same. Your love is work, and it does not come easy. Your love sweats and toils. It is calloused and sunburned; it bears scars and comes with stories. Your love is worn, but it is no less valuable for it. Being loved by you is like being loved by a gardener, a mother, a teacher. Your love may not always be the simplest, but it is worth the effort.

LOVE AS A FLAW

Cowering, your love hides in the dark. In shadows and under cover of night, your love runs from corner to corner, afraid to linger, afraid to be caught. Afraid, afraid, afraid of everything. When you fall in love, it is with alarm bells ringing. Your love is a mistake, a flaw in the code, a purchase you don't remember making and desperately want to return. You didn't ask for this. You didn't want this. It's a problem-- your problem --and you would do anything to pass it off, burn it away, scoop it out of you with bare hands, or carved out with hooked knives before it can destroy you. Get it out, just get it out now. You don't care who you hurt in the process, only that you can't afford to be hurt first. Being loved by you is to be loved by a figment of the imagination. It is to be loved in halves, or not at all.

[peachymilkandcream]

Kingdom of Ash and Greed|Part 2|King Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: Glad to see we're back at it again with new content. At the time of writing this I just got back from vacation so it's nice getting into the habit of writing again, I've missed writing for these characters and their stories. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, big age difference, kidnapping, slavery, violence, power imbalance, implied somnophilia, forced pregnancies, mind breaking, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, etc.

================================================

The kingdom reminded her of the man who ruled it. Dark, ashen, and grey. It was as if the land fed off the blood and violence its fearless leader stained it with, growing sickly and blackened trees.

Even here Evelyn couldn't escape the burning smell in the air, and the smoke that threatened to fill her lungs. Levi's nation was one who pioneered metal working and weapons of destruction, and to keep up with the king's thirst for blood the blacksmiths worked at all hours to fill the demand.

The whole ride he kept her firmly against his chest, glaring at any who looked him in surprise that he had brought a bride this time, and not another head of some cowardly king who surrendered thinking they would be safe.

At least she thought that's what he wanted with her.

As she entered the courtyard, servants rushed to attend their king for fear of ending up just like another one of his conquests.

"You there, get her bathed and half-way decent for my chambers. Those filth that spawned her probably never knew how to clean her properly."

Evelyn opened her mouth to protest the insult, but quickly shut it when she saw his face.

"Yes your Majesty-"

Without so much as a second glance she was pulled away from Levi, brought to a freezing tub and scrubbed until her skin broke in places. Back home, she was accustomed to quartz baths in the comfort of her chambers, warm and with rose water to make her smell nice.

This treatment was that of a slave.

When they were done she was given a horribly immodest dressing gown before being thrust into Levi's chambers, shutting the door behind them.

She was utterly alone.

===============================================

When Evelyn was sure she was about to freeze to death the door opened, Levi cleaned and refreshed after his ride of victory and bloodstained boots.

"So you can clean up, can't you?"

"Please just let me go your Majesty, I promise my father will pay tribute to you as long as he lives, and when I take his place I will do the same, and my children-"

He slaps her hard across the face. "Did I give you permission to speak brat? No. I didn't think so." He paces around her, taking in every inch of her appearance.

"There are several things you're mistaken about. First, you're coward of a father can't afford to pay me shit. This long siege has rendered your pathetic monarchy penniless."

Evelyn pales, she knew things were bad, but never to this degree.

"Second, you're a woman. And it's plain to me that your head has been filled with the idea that you can do it on your own, rule, take charge. When in reality the lessons you needed to learn is how to spread your legs and swallow."

"How dare you- I am a princess-"

"A glorified cunt and womb your Highness."

"My father-"

"Spoiled you, made you think you were Miss High and Mighty. Looking down on all the rest. When in reality, I think what you need is a lesson in discipline, respect, and where your place is in this world."

She stares him down with a look of contempt. "Don't you think your people will rebel against the idea of their king marrying a enemy princess who will now be above them."

"You're right, they will. So it's a good thing that wasn't my plan."

This quiets her for a long moment, if not for a wife and queen then what did he want? "Then I believe it's my right to know why I am here."

Levi sighs, shrugging off his outer robe. "In my life I have clawed my way to where I am by not letting myself be distracted by earthly pleasures. Drinking, gambling....women." He looks at her with desire in his eyes. "But with my age increasing and my number of heirs staying the same my people and I have become....restless. All this work for their benefit, my kingdom, my world of power and authority- if a sniper's arrow were to take me....all would be lost. And I can't allow that can I?"

Evelyn retreats slightly as he advances, keeping eye contact with him as if that alone could stop him. "An bastard s-son- no one would allow him to take the throne-"

"In most countries, yes. But my people trust me, and they know with my seed and the stubbornness and rebellious flair of my enemies- well, that would make a mighty ruler indeed." He bends and grabs the hem of her dressing gown. "And besides, who wouldn't want to see the prize gem of the rebellious country that caused them such struggle round and pregnant with the son of her worst enemy?"

At the last word he pulls her towards him, pulling the robe off and leaving her exposed.

"Don't fight it my dear, it'll only make it harder for you."

[randomperson99sworld]

Hope

~ Chapter 8 ~

Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester save a young woman —Natalie Johnson, from a coven of witches who are after her deceased grandmothers spell book. At first Dean doesn’t trust her, will he ever? Natalie is just simply a woman who gets roped up in the supernatural world from a mistake her grandmother made.

Pairing: Dean x OC

Warning: Age gap, slow burn, smut (not until the later seasons), language, gore.

Word Count: 2,114

A/N: Poor Natalie, she lost everyone too, in her own way :(. This is my last chapter til later today hopefully, I’m going to try to get some sleep finally lol. Happy reading! ♥️

Dean had been at the bunker, going through his usual routine of cleaning weapons and ignoring the nagging thoughts that always seemed to crawl into his mind when the world got quiet. Sam had already turned in for the night, and the bunker was dark, except for the low glow of the lamp Dean was working under.

Then his phone rang.

When he saw Natalie's name on the screen, his stomach dropped a little. It was late, and calls at this hour never meant anything good. He answered, immediately on edge.

"Dean!" Her voice was slurred, and he could hear the noise of a bar in the background. "Uh... So, I may have had a little too much to drink."

Dean frowned, his brows knitting together. "Where are you?"

"At the bar. You know... the one by the gas station." She hiccuped, then giggled. "I, um, can't drive. And walking sounds... impossible right now."

Dean sighed deeply, running a hand down his face. "You're telling me you went out, got trashed, and now you're calling me to pick your ass up?"

"Yup!" Natalie chirped. "You're the best, Dean."

He was annoyed, but he couldn't exactly leave her there, either. "Alright, stay put. I'm walking over. I'll drive you back."

She gave him a long, drawn-out "Okaaaay," and then hung up.

Dean grabbed his jacket, still muttering to himself as he left the bunker. Walking to the bar didn't take long—it was only about a ten-minute trek—but the entire way there, Dean couldn't shake the irritation that simmered under his skin. Why the hell would she do something so reckless? She was smarter than that.

When he arrived at the bar, it wasn't hard to spot her. Natalie was sitting at the counter, laughing and talking to the bartender, her cheeks flushed from too much alcohol. The bartender gave him a knowing look when he approached.

"Deaaann!" Natalie spotted him and beamed. "My bestie is here!"

The bartender chuckled, shaking his head as Dean stood in front of her, arms crossed. "She's had a lot to drink tonight, man. You might want to get her home."

Dean glared at Natalie, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, I can see that."

He moved to guide her off the barstool, but she shrugged him off, wobbling slightly. "I got it, Dean. I can walk."

"Uh-huh," Dean muttered, clearly unconvinced. "Sure you do."

She took one step and immediately stumbled, nearly falling flat on her face. Dean's reflexes kicked in, and he caught her before she hit the ground, his hands gripping her arms.

"Maybe I don't got it," she giggled, looking up at him with an innocent grin.

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. "Yeah, no kidding."

He maneuvered her toward the door, stuffing her into the passenger seat of her car. Natalie leaned back in the seat, still grinning at him like she didn't have a care in the world. Dean walked around to the driver's side, sliding in and gripping the steering wheel, taking a moment to calm his rising frustration.

"What the hell were you thinking, Natalie?" he asked her, his voice tight with annoyance.

Natalie sighed, her smile fading as she stared out the window. "I don't know," she confessed, her voice suddenly quieter, more vulnerable. "I just... I had a lot on my mind, I guess."

Dean glanced at her, seeing the change in her demeanor, and some of his irritation faded. There was something about the way she said it—so raw and sad—that made him stop pressing. He'd been in that place before. He knew what it was like to drink to forget, to drown out the pain and guilt.

Natalie turned to look at him, her hazel eyes soft and unfocused, the alcohol still making her a little hazy. "You have really pretty eyes," she said out of nowhere, her words slow and a little slurred.

Dean blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Your eyes," she repeated, smiling lazily. "They're really nice. Green... like, emerald or something."

Dean rolled his eyes again, but there was no real edge to it this time. "You're drunk."

"Maybe," Natalie agreed, her head resting back against the seat. "But I'm right. You have pretty eyes, Dean."

Dean huffed, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. "Yeah, well, save the compliments for when you're sober."

The drive back to the bunker was quiet, except for the soft hum of the engine and Natalie's occasional hiccups. She had stopped talking, her head leaning against the window, staring out at the dark road as the streetlights passed by.

Dean kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts wandered. He was still annoyed, sure, but part of him knew that Natalie had her own reasons for drinking herself into a stupor. She never talked about her past much, but he knew enough to understand she'd been through hell in her own way.

She'd lost everyone. Her adopted father, her adopted mother, her sister... and then her nephew, Isaac. And lastly her grandmother. Dean didn't know the details, but he knew Isaac had been like a son to her. He knew that pain, that kind of loss, and he didn't blame her for wanting to escape it for a little while.

Natalie suddenly broke the silence, her voice soft. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Dean glanced over at her, surprised by the sincerity in her tone. "Yeah, well... you did. Going out and getting wasted on your own isn't exactly safe, you know."

"I know," she sighed. "I just... It gets heavy, you know?"

Dean knew. He knew all too well. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I get it."

Natalie closed her eyes, her head resting against the seat. "Thanks for picking me up."

Dean didn't respond right away, his grip tightening on the wheel. He wanted to be mad at her, wanted to scold her for being reckless, but he couldn't. Not really. He'd been in her shoes too many times.

"Don't mention it," he said finally, his voice softer than before.

When they pulled into the bunker, Dean helped Natalie out of the car, keeping a steady hand on her arm as she wobbled slightly. She leaned on him more than she probably realized, her head drooping with exhaustion as they walked inside.

Once they were in the safety of the bunker, Dean guided her to her room, making sure she didn't trip or stumble on the way there. When they reached her door, Natalie looked up at him, her eyes a little clearer, though still heavy with sleep.

"Dean," she murmured, her voice quieter now. "I'm sorry."

Dean frowned, tilting his head slightly. "For what?"

"For being a mess," she said with a sad, lopsided smile.

Dean shook his head, surprising himself with the tenderness in his voice. "You're not a mess, Nat. Just... don't scare me like that again, okay?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes drooping shut as she leaned against the doorframe. "Okay."

Dean opened the door to her room and helped her inside, making sure she was settled before stepping back toward the door.

"Get some sleep," he said, his voice a little gruff, but not unkind.

Natalie smiled sleepily. "Thanks, Dean. You're... a good guy."

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Get some sleep, Natalie."

As he walked out and closed the door behind him, Dean couldn't help but feel the weight of his own words. He wasn't sure he believed them, but tonight, seeing her like that—hurting, lost, just like he'd been so many times—it reminded him that he wasn't the only one carrying demons.

Dean shut the door to Natalie's room softly, making sure she was settled before heading back down the hall. As he walked toward the war room, he found Sam sitting at the table, glancing up when he heard Dean's footsteps.

"What happened?" Sam asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, sighing as he dropped into the chair across from his brother. "She got drunk at the bar."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Drunk? Where?"

"The one by the gas station," Dean muttered, his frustration bubbling up again. "She called me to come get her. Couldn't drive, too drunk to walk." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "She was reckless, man. If that witch had shown up while she was stumbling around town, it could've ended bad."

Sam's face softened, his brow furrowing as he considered it. "Yeah, but... it's not like she went to a dive bar in the middle of nowhere. She probably thought it was fine since it's in walking distance."

Dean huffed, shaking his head. "Still. She's got a target on her back. That witch is out there, and who knows what else is looking for the Dark Scroll. She can't just go out drinking like that, acting like everything's normal. It's not safe."

Sam studied his brother for a moment, seeing the mix of anger and concern etched into Dean's face. "You care about her, though."

Dean's eyes snapped up, narrowing in Sam's direction. "She's a pain in my ass," he grumbled, deflecting the statement as best he could. "And now I'm babysitting her, which is exactly what I didn't want to be doing."

Sam smirked slightly, his knowing look cutting right through Dean's walls. "Right, but if it were anyone else, you wouldn't have gone to pick them up. You care, Dean."

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his jaw tightening. He didn't want to admit it, didn't want to give voice to the fact that Natalie had wormed her way into his lifetime. But Sam wasn't wrong. He did care. Probably more than he should. That was the problem.

"You've always had a thing for helping people who need it," Sam continued, his voice gentler now. "Natalie's no different. She's been through hell, too. Maybe not in the same way we have, but... it's enough to make anyone act out sometimes."

Dean sighed, staring at the table, not wanting to meet Sam's gaze. "Yeah, well, she's not exactly making it easy."

Sam leaned back, his arms crossed loosely. "She's not trying to be a pain, Dean. She's just... dealing with it the best way she can. And honestly, she's been through more than most people can handle."

Dean's mind wandered back to what he knew about Natalie's past—losing her entire family one by one, raising her nephew and then losing him, too. It wasn't the supernatural life that had destroyed her, but bad luck and tragedy all the same. He didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at the floor as the weight of it sank in.

Sam saw the shift in his expression and softened his tone. "Look, I get why you're frustrated. But she's trying to handle things on her own. It's not easy for her either."

Dean shook his head slightly, letting out a tired sigh. "I know."

The silence between them was heavy, but not tense. Sam didn't push any further, knowing that Dean needed time to process. Dean wasn't great with emotions—he never had been—but when he cared about someone, it was obvious in the way he protected them, even if he grumbled and complained the whole time.

"Just... don't be too hard on her, alright?" Sam said finally. "She's part of this now, whether you like it or not."

Dean grunted, but there was no real heat behind it. "Yeah. I know."

Sam smiled faintly, recognizing the reluctant acceptance in Dean's voice. He'd seen it before—when Dean tried to deny that he cared, but the truth was always there, under the surface. Natalie was a pain in his ass, sure, but she was also under his protection now. And Dean Winchester didn't let down the people he cared about.

With that, Sam stood up, clapping Dean on the shoulder. "Get some sleep. You've had a long night."

Dean nodded, still deep in thought, and Sam headed down the hall to turn in for the night.

As Dean sat there in the quiet of the war room, he couldn't help but think about Natalie's words in the car—how lost she'd seemed, how she'd apologized for being a mess. He knew that feeling all too well. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the only one who needed someone to keep them grounded.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. "She is a pain in my ass."

But even as he said it, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

[jacthereaper]

Connection

Ages pass with lingering glances, curious thoughts, and conversations overheard. The occasional image popped into mind over our months separated, and I would leave it there, unquestioned.

Now, revisiting the energy of your presence, I'm questioning those images.

After seeing you again, I told a mutual friend, once you'd walked away, that I think you're so hot.

Later, you ask that mutual friend what she thinks of me.

I start flirting and the visions all come back, ready to be interrogated. They pulsate in my mind like videos and clips of memories, but they haven't even happened yet. The movie in my mind's eye shows me how the hair on your skin rises to my touch, craving my fingertips. How breathless you'd become with my tongue on your throat. The sensation of my hands gripping your thighs as I push my hips between your legs.

Coming to see you speak, I notice how your eyes continuously land on me. For a second, I cockily think that you're seeking my approval. I push it from my mind, we are only acquaintances after all. I keep my eyes on you, watching and listening intently. You're so smart, so many stimulating thoughts in your head. I can't wait to make your head empty.

The small moments we spend bonding over shared interests are full of heat. I feel myself magnetically drawn to you; thinking of your lips, staring at your eyes, replaying your voice in my head. I have to listen to my impulses now, so I find you. So easily. Our connections make it a breeze, though I refrain from scouring any further. We keep talking, so casually, too. But I feel like there's more beneath the surface.

After getting invited to a club with you, my mind runs rampant with fantasies. Though, at the time, I'd attribute it to my desperation. I thought about kissing you in the dark light of the club, feeling my way up your thighs. Hearing you whimper when my lips meet your neck. Kissing you sloppily as I guide you into my bedroom. Pushing you onto my mattress. Kissing in my car with wandering hands. Your lips on my neck, hoping you'll admire the way I moan. Your hand around my throat as you straddle me.

My imagination finds its way out of my mind when I arrive at the club, taking in all of the stimuli. Seeing you, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander. The imagination certainly made its way from my mind - now, I could feel it on my skin. Trembling, vibrating, burning. Your outfit, demeanor, height, energy; it all overwhelms me in the best way possible. The conversation feels effortless, I craved being around you. I wanted to hear every word that left your mouth, every thought that ached at the precipice of your mind, ever minute sound I could manage to hear. I fought the urge to touch you - to reach out and grab your hand, to hold your back, to push your hair behind your ear.

Over dinner, I reveal some of my desires, as do you. Though, given my history of rejection, I move with caution. I want you too badly to mess it up. I'm turning on my charm & charisma, which everyone so clearly points out when you ask about me. But, it's working. You come home with me after all.

The whole drive to my apartment I spend it thinking about you. I don't want to push your boundaries or misread cues, but I feel like they're clear. I feel like everything is making sense. I picture sitting together on my shitty couch, our knees touching, eyes locking. I can't stop staring at your lips and eyes. Eye contact normally makes me uncomfortable, but there's something in your gaze that has me trapped. I see myself ghosting my hand along your knee.

When you finally arrived, everything went far better than I'd imagined.

The flashes in my mind haven't stopped since.

Your moans and whimpers are so clear in my mind. How your eyes fluttered when you told me you admired me. How your hair felt in my grasp. The way your skin felt between my teeth. Your scent lingering on my pillows. I feel pleasantly plagued by my realistic imagination. I see ghosts when I enter a room. Seeing you where you'd been - on my floor, in my doorway, on my bed, in my kitchen, and so on. It's so vivid.

The clarity of my visions allows me to create new ones. The new ones distract me all day long. New ways to make you laugh, to make you whine and moan, to please you, to hurt you the way you crave, to hold you close again, to taste you.

Do you want to create new ones?

[living-morganism-101]

Deliciously Beautiful

When I was a little girl, I would pray to God that I would wake up the next morning with long hair and banana cream skin and light colored eyes. From a young age, I learned to denounced my darkness, my hot comb burned scalp, my crooked teeth and my desire to be wanted.

I have a crippling need to be constantly validated. Perhaps that is why I was so desperate for someone, anyone, to give me love. I thought that's what I was supposed to want. And for a time, I did. I just didn't want it from boys 4 times my age. But when you're nothing more than dirt underneath someone's shoe, you can't be too choosy. I had a lot of nerve to be ugly with high standards. But when I was little girl, I felt like a god. Some days, I still do. Only now, deep down, it lingers; the hatred for myself I pretend I don't carry.

If my father got one thing right about me, its that I was an attention whore. I wanted boys my age to touch me the way grown men did. I wanted boys my age to kiss me the way grown men did. I wanted boys to like me the way grown men did. But more than anything, I simply wanted to fit in.

This is your warning not to give up your power. Do not let others be the one make or break you. We are fragile and we hope and we are small and we are stupid and we are mortal and we are lied to and through all of that, we love. God, do we love. That is why we are so paper thin. When you give up too much of yourself, you find it easier to live in another human's skin. You search for missing parts of yourself in them, you rip them open and you slip inside them and the blood will make it messy, but fuck. There is an unexplainable peace in being whole, even if it means sucking someone else dry. It's shameful, it's delusional, it's madness, it's sinfully sweet. It's everything you want except for what you need.

Some 20-ish years later, I lay in a messy bed and ponder my existence, like any idiot would. I reached for my phone for the what felt like the millionth time. It was time for hourly ritual; flicking through every social media app my thumb can reach and showing myself lives I only knew a fraction of, but still wished were mine. Social media, I learned, is just an endless digital buffet of useless junk designed to make my brain feel more and more like a sack of wet sand.

I see your perfect little blog, with your perfect, slender fingers and even more perfectly coated crimson nails. Your perfect smile on your perfect lips. I wonder if you could give me the perfect kiss, if I asked kindly. 100 different scenarios run through my peanut sized brain on how I can have what you do. But I honestly didn't care too much about living your life more than I cared about wanting to eat it.

I wanted to savor you and digest you and scrape you off my plate. I wanted my fist full with your perfect hair. I wanted your flesh between my rotten teeth. I hoped that in consuming more perfect women, that I too would become "perfect". I, too, dreamed of becoming deliciously beautiful. Deliciously beautiful. What is it like to be so small and ever so consumable?

How funny is it that we can love a certain type of life, but hate who lives it? That should be me, you think. I thought I would be satisfied with just a taste, but I need more. I need the full meal, the whole body, bones and all. It's animalistic and it's feral. It's obsessive and I am struggling to contain it.

Contain it.

Honestly, I implore you to name an act more intimate, more symbolic, than eating all you desire? Perhaps in a past life I was a cannibal. How close am I to reliving that lifestyle in this lifetime?