#the drug in me is reimagined

[randomresources2023]

[cowboyskeletons]

flower language rocks. i should do more art with it

[fallinginreversefanblog]

Ronnie Radke/Falling In Reverse "The Drug In Me Is Reimagined" LIVE COMPILATION (2/2020)

Via Youtube New Orleans/LA, 2/10/2020 ||| Richmond/VA, 2/14/2020 |||

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Lover Boy

Trying something very new with writing from the male character’s perspective! Let me know what y’all think and if you’d like this reimagined from another perspective!

When I saw them together, I saw red. She made a mistake breaking up with me. And she certainly made the wrong decision to let herself get involved with him. I was pissed when I’d heard he’d asked her out and furious to hear that she’d agreed.

He doesn’t deserve her. He can’t treat her right, he can’t take care of her the way she needs. She needs me. She’s mine and it’s time to remind them both of that.

It wasn’t hard to figure out their date night plans. Not at all difficult to follow her car to their dinner reservation (what kind of man lets the woman drive them to a date). Not a challenge to slip into her car while it was parked outside the restaurant (she never asked for her spare key back). Drugging them was easy, a quick syringe to the neck and they were both out cold before they could understand what happened. I put him in the trunk, tied up nice and secure (and very uncomfortably). Her I move to the passenger seat. I buckled her in, kissed her forehead, and made sure her head was resting just right so her neck wouldn’t cramp during our drive. In an hour, we were in a cabin, deep in the woods, with no one else around to hear the noise that tonight’s events would bring.

I moved her into the house first. Gently, lovingly, carefully. I took my time pulling off each article of clothing. She’d worn the red dress I love and it made me fume that she wore it for another man. But there’s time later to let my anger loose. For now, I tied her down to the bed (our bed). Prop her upper body up so she’s comfortable. Used the softest silk ropes I could find because she deserves the best. I stare down at her beautiful form, running my fingers down her body.

“Soon, you’ll understand that you’re mine again,” I promised.

Next is his turn. I dragged him into the house. Dumped him onto a chair, cut off his clothes, and strapped him down. He gets duct tape and zip ties. Positioned him just right so he gets to see all of her splayed out on the bed.

And now, I wait.

-

She woke up first. I knew she was waking up when her eyebrows got the little crease in between them and she scrunched her nose. That’s how she always wakes up. I watch her eyes slowly blink open, watch her try and move to no avail, watch as panic takes over her mind and fear makes her struggle.

“No honey, don’t struggle, I’d hate to see you hurt yourself.”

Her eyes dart to mine and I can tell she’s pissed.

“What the fuck! What the hell is going on? Why the fuck am I tied up and naked?”

She hadn’t noticed him yet. Good, because all her attention should be in me, like always.

I walk to her and sit at the edge of the bed, running my fingers along her face. She jerks her head away from me but I grab her chin and lean in close.

“I’m reminding you who you belong to. And correcting your behavior,” I say to her before slamming my lips against hers. She tastes just the way I remember and she reacts the way she always did, parting her lips and letting me dominate her mouth.

I groan softly against her and I feel her whimper into my mouth. I pull back and I feel a rush of possession when she instinctively tries to follow me. Her eyes are glazed and I can tell I’m getting to her.

I press my forehead against hers. “You are fucking mine. But clearly you forgot that at some point and now it’s my job to remind you. And teach him a lesson too while I’m here.”

I see the confusion on her face and step back so she can get a good eyeful of her date, naked and strapped to the chair.

She gasps, “What the actual fuck? You’re crazy, that’s why I broke up with you!”

I laugh as I step back towards her date. “You love my crazy, don’t try and deny that.”

She shakes her head, pulling harder at her restraints. I grin at her, “I think it’s about time we wake up your lover boy before he misses the show.”

There’s a glass of water on the side table. I snatch it and unceremoniously splash it over her date’s head. He wakes up with a gasp.

“What the fuck?! Who the fuck are you? Untie me, you fucking asshole!” He’s loud as he struggles in his chair.

I take enormous pleasure in sending a sharp backhand across his face. I hear her gasp and shout at me to stop. He continues to yell so I slap him again.

He’s pulling hard against the chair and I’m sure the duct tape hurts but I had that chair reinforced and bolted down in preparation for this.

“Shut the fuck up,” I direct the order to him but I hear her quiet behind me too. Good girl, she’s always been so good at following my orders.

I turn towards her and smile, “Honey, do you want to explain to our guest of honor who I am?”

She stares at me, shock painted across her face. Her head shakes a little and she opens and closes her mouth at a loss for words. I smirk and turn to lover boy.

“I’ll make this simple for you. She’s mine. You infringed upon my property and this is the consequence. Now she got it in her head that she’s better off without me so I’m here to correct that. And you are here because you had the gall to think that you had a chance with her. Tonight is a night of righting wrongs.”

Lover boy starts yelling again, cursing and threatening. I pick up the roll of duct tape and rip off a sizable piece that I slap over his mouth. Right now, it’s his turn to be a spectator and spectators don’t talk.

I turn to her.

“Fuck, I missed you, darling.” I brush my fingers along her cheek and she flinches away from me.

“Now now, don’t embarrass me in front of company,” I chide as my fingers run down her body.

I hear her mewl softly as my fingers meet her core. She’s fucking dripping and I laugh softly into her ear. “You’re mine, aren’t you? No one else can make you so fucking wet like this. No one else can touch you like this and make you feel this good.”

I punctuate the end of my sentence with a sharp pinch of her clit and she cries out, arching into me.

“Fuck, please, ah, right there.” Her voice is breathy and it makes my cock throb. My fingers work her pussy effortlessly, applying just the right amount of pressure against her clit while I slide a finger into her. Her pussy clenches around me and I groan.

“I know for a fact your worthless lover boy could never make you feel this good,” I croon, sparing a derisive look towards him.

His face is red and furious as he makes muffled threats from behind the duct tape across his lips. My fingers don’t let up on her and I can hear her moans and whines over him.

I glance at his lap and I laugh. He’s rock hard. “You fucking piece of shit. Who gave you permission to get hard over my girl huh? You like how she looks like this, tied up and at my mercy? You think you could make her sound like this?”

I slam my fingers into her, the sound of her dripping cunt creating a symphony with her cry of pleasure. His cock bobs between his legs and I watch his hips thrust up almost imperceptibly.

I turn my attention back to her. “You see that, darling? He’s fucking aching for you right now. But he can’t fucking have you.”

I can tell by the way she’s writhing against me that she’s close. “Come on baby girl, I know you’re so close, cum for me. Scream for me so he knows how fucking good I make you feel.”

I slide my lips against her neck and my fingers work faster. Without any warning, I sink my teeth into the sensitive skin of her neck and she wails. Her pussy clenches around my fingers and her hips are trembling but I don’t stop.

“That’s it, good girl, just like that.” I work her through her orgasm until she’s gasping and shaking against me. Only then do I pull my hand away from her pussy. Her body is completely limp, her eyes hooded as she stares at me. I stand up off the bed and turn to see how lover boy is faring.

He’s breathing hard, his eyes filled with a combination of anger and lust. I know he wishes it were him touching her, making her scream. I grin at him and walk over. My fingers are still coated in her juices when I smear them across his face, making sure that he smells her.

He lunges at me ineffectively and I let out a deep laugh. It feels so fucking good to show him his place.

“She smells good huh? Bet you wish you could taste her. But you and I both know you will never be able to.”

“Stop, you made your point!” Her voice pulls me from my gloating. “Please, honey, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, can we just be done with this?”

“Oh no darling girl, we’ve got a lot more ahead of us tonight,” I laugh as I slide back into the bed with her. “You see tonight is the time for me to make sure you understand how serious I am about us. And how completely you belong to me. I need to be sure you are never going to forget that.”

I kiss down her body until I’m face to face with her dripping cunt.

“Oh I missed this,” I purr softly, blowing gently against her pretty pussy. Her hips buck up and she lets out an almost silent whimper.

I don’t wait any longer and dive in, my tongue running up and down her dripping slit. I moan against her cunt, relishing in the taste of her.

I know her body better than she does and it doesn’t take long for me to drive her to the brink of insanity, pulling orgasm after orgasm from her trembling body.

“Please, I can’t, it’s too much!” Her voice is breathless as she trembles against me. I look up at her, taking in the way her tears glisten along her cheeks. This is my favorite image of her, ruined and raw, all because of me.

I smile and press a chaste kiss against her pretty pussy and sit up. “Only because you asked so nicely,” I drawl before capturing her lips in a kiss, letting her taste herself on me.

She moans into my lips and I pull away briefly, “I’m going to untie you so be a good girl for me.”

She nods. I know she’ll be good. My fingers are quick to pull apart the knots and I gently massage her extremities as I release her. I help her sit upright and I catch her staring at lover boy. His body is trembling from how hard he’s pulling at his restraints and his cock hasn’t flagged all night.

I smirk at her. “I want you to ride him.”

Her wide eyes meet mine, “What?!”

“You heard me. You went out with him for a reason, you clearly thought he was fuckable so now’s your chance.”

She’s unmoving on the bed, still in shock while I stand and walk towards him. I grab the piece of tape covering his mouth and rip it off.

“Your turn to shine, lover boy. Do you want to fuck my girl?”

“Fuck off!” His voice is hoarse but I catch the waver in his tone. I smirk, “Don’t lie to me, I know your cock’s been rock hard this whole night. So fuck her and make her cum.”

I turn to her now, “Ride him, darling. Get what you want from him because you’re not going to get another chance after tonight.”

I grab her hand and pull her up off the bed to her feet. Her legs are shaky as I lead her to him. I turn her around so her ass is pressed up against his cock.

He groans and leans his head back against the chair.

“That’s it darling, you feel his cock against your pretty pussy?” I hold her hands to keep her balanced.

“Go ahead, sit your tight cunt onto his cock for me.”

She looks at me, eyes uncertain. I smile and nod.

I watch my girl sink down on his cock. Her back arches and she lets out a small moan that makes me laugh.

“Does that feel good? Does his cock fill you up?”

She whines out a yes as her hips start to gyrate against him. He lets out a guttural groan, “Fuck you’re so tight.”

I laugh, “Ride him, darling. Make yourself feel good.”

She does exactly as she’s told. I watch as she moves herself up and down, the movement making her pretty tits bounce. I sit back against the bed and stroke myself softly, watching my girl fuck herself using her pathetic date.

Moans are spilling out of both of their mouths as she keeps moving her body in just the right ways.

“Does he feel good inside of you, darling?”

She whimpers in response, “Ah fuck, yes!”

“Yeah? You wanna make yourself cum using his cock? Greedy little thing huh, you just came your brains out and you want more?” I taunt her as I stroke myself up and down, watching the scene unfold.

“Yes! Please, I want to cum again!” Her voice is desperate as her body moves faster up and down.

I hear lover boy let out a deep groan and I smirk. “Keep going pretty girl, make yourself cum on him.”

His groans change in pitch. “Fuck no, wait, ah!” My smirk widens when I hear his voice crack and his eyes close. “Fuck wait, I’m cumming!”

I can’t contain the deep, scornful laugh that erupts out of my chest. Pathetic lover boy couldn’t even last long enough to make my girl feel good.

I watch with glee as my girl whimpers softly and slows her movements. Her eyes meet mine and I can see the wanton lust and need written all over her face.

He lets out a pathetic groan and I meet his eyes, seeing the pitiful humiliation on his face.

“You worthless dick, you couldn’t even last long enough to make my girl cum.” My voice is filled with derision.

I stand and beckon to my girl, “Come here.”

She’s quick to obey, pulling off of him swiftly. I pull her body close to mine and slip my fingers down to her dripping pussy. I gather the messy mix of his cum and her wetness onto my fingers and smear them across his chest and face. “Pathetic piece of shit,” I sneer.

“Get on the bed, on your hands and knees and face him, darling.” My girl does exactly as she’s told, arching her back and watching as I circle around to behind her.

I line myself up against her cunt and slam my cock home. She screams.

I don’t give her time to adjust to my cock splitting her open. My movements are harsh and punishing. I’m showing her who she belongs to, proving to him that only I can make her feel this good.

“You’re a worthless, disgraceful piece of shit. Didn’t even last long enough to make my girl cum.”

I bully my cock into her over and over again, hearing her voice shake with pleasure in a way that she definitely didn’t do with him.

I can feel the way her pussy clenches around me rhythmically and I know she’s close. I lean down and whisper to her, “I want you to look at him while you cum all over my cock. Make sure he knows how good I make you feel.”

She’s delirious with pleasure but I know she’ll do as I say. I laugh as I see him struggle against the chair, his face red with humiliation and anger.

“Cum for me, darling. Scream for me.” My thrusts get deeper, harder, faster and her body follows my instructions effortlessly. Her cunt clenches around me and her orgasm rips through her body. I laugh again, feeling her pussy squirt her pleasure, relishing in her rapture.

I fuck her through her orgasm and I feel my own building. But I want one more out of her. I slide a hand down to her clit and begin to mercilessly work her body. She gasps, shaking against me and I don’t give her a chance to recover.

It doesn’t take long before her cunt clenches again and this time, as she wails our her release, I join her.

We collapse onto the bed and I make sure to catch myself so she doesn’t take the brunt of my weight. I run my lips along her ear and I make one final claim, “You’re fucking mine forever.”

She whimpers, “I’m yours.”

I grin and look up at him, taking in his expression of defeat and humiliation. “You never deserved her, lover boy.

[colsons-baker]

The Sins of The Father

Father Charlie x Reader

Disclaimer: this is my reimagining of Father Charlie / him before the events of Grotesquerie (and yes I have seen it and knows what happens but idc he’s still the hot priest to me ✋🏻)

You, an angelic face sat in the pew with your family, a vision in a white lace dress your mother always complained was too short for church so you wore it every Sunday to annoy her. He, a young priest newly moved to the parish, who couldn’t help keep his eyes on you a moment longer than he did the others in the congregation. The first sin, lust.

Charlie had never done drugs but he imagined the way he craved you was what it would be like to be an addict. He hid it as best he could, a priest should not have these thoughts or feelings. A priest should never do what he did when he was alone in his room at night and all he could picture was you.

He knew you felt it too, something in the way you looked at him as he held onto your hand for just a moment more as he greeted the parishioners one by one while they left the church. Could you tell what he did to the thought of you? Could you tell how desperate he was for you? Could you tell how conflicted he was between right and wrong and all his life choices?

——

His list of sins began to grow as time passed. Second sin, envy.

Envy was not a strange feeling to Charlie, everyone was guilty of being envious of another at some point. It was something that a person could not help, something that was probably ingrained inside us all. But he had never felt envy like this.

The months passed and the longing for you did not leave him, neither did the burden of his guilt for wanting you in the way that he did. He would watch you out of the corner of his eye after Mass, talking to a friend of yours while he spoke to some parishioner. He wanted to be able to talk to you outside of the formalities, he wanted to be the person infront of you making you smile. He was jealous that they got to spend that time with you and he did not and he had never felt that type of envy before.

It was an envy that ate him alive, made him dislike the people who knew you better than he did. It was an envy fuelled by longing. Maybe it was even an envy fuelled by love.

———-

But one moment could never be enough to quench his thirst for you. The third and fourth sins, greed and gluttony.

“I think you have your days mixed up, Y/N.” Charlie chuckled as he made his way to the pew you were seated on. He was just leaving his office for the day when he saw you sitting there.

You turned your head to look at him as he stopped beside you. “I do?”

“Well, last time I checked it was Thursday and I’ve never seen you here outside of Sunday mass. And you don’t even attend that regularly.” He teased, but the Sunday’s you did not show were the ones he hated most. “May I?” He pointed to the pew.

“Of course.” You nodded, sliding over to give him some room.

Charlie breathed out as he sat down. He looked around before focusing once more upon you. “So?” You turned your head to him once more. “Why are you here?”

You hummed. “I don’t know.” You admitted with a shrug. “I just felt like I should come here.”

“Why?” Charlie looked at you as you looked at him.

To see you was what you wanted to tell him, because that was the truth. But how could you explain that to a man of the cloth in a church?

Not knowing what to say, you said nothing as the two of you looked at one another. The silence lingered in the air between you for a moment before the kiss began, and when it began it became obvious that neither one of you wanted it to stop. But he was a priest and this was wrong.

You pulled away, looking at him in a state of semi-shock. This is what you had wanted, but it’s not something you thought would happen. “I-I have to go.” You said quickly as you stood and quickly walked to the door.

“Y/N please!” Charlie stood pleading with you to stay as the church door closed behind you. He sighed and slumped back onto the pew, avoiding eye contact with the crucifix on the altar. He knew he should be paying penitence for what just transpired but he could not bring himself to. The kiss had not felt wrong and he didn’t want it to stop. He just wanted more.

———

Charlie rose his head as he heard a knock on the open office door. “Y/N?” He stood, not expecting to see you standing there. It was Sunday, mass was in an hour and you were in the dress your mother hated.

“I’m sorry Father, but I had to come.” You told him, taking a step inside but stopping short of going to him.

Charlie shook his head. “Call me Charlie, please.” He whispered, his voice not able to get past the lump in his throat. He wondered if you would even turn up for mass today, so the last place he expected you was here, now.

You nodded before looking down. You had thought this over a million times in your head since Thursday, but now you were here…well where do you start?

Charlie cleared his throat. “Thursday was…”

“Wrong?” You suggested.

“Something I’ve wanted since I first set eyes on you.”

You looked at him. “What?”

Charlie shook his head as he looked away. “I’ve done so much to get to where I am, to be in this position. But you? You’re testing my faith more than I ever thought a person could.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I like it.”

You smiled slightly and he smiled back.

“I felt called to the church, I can’t explain what that feels like to someone who doesn’t feel that calling.” He told you. “But every time I look at you, I feel a new calling. And I don’t know what to do.” He whispered.

You shook your head, trying to take it all in. “My parents would kill me.” You laughed a little, it was a joke but it had truth in it. But what could they do? You weren’t a kid, just a sinner.

Charlie moved closer to you. He reached out slowly, taking a hold of your wrist. “How would they ever know?” He whispered.

————

From that moment a relationship grew, which only brought more sins upon the young priest, but he did not know if he cared. His faith in his profession began to crumble, but his faith in you and the relationship you formed. which blossomed in secret liaisons and out-of-town dates without his collar on, shone bright. The fourth and fifth sins, pride and sloth

“Charlie…we need to talk.” You told him as you stood in the door to his room, him by his closet.

“What’s up babe?” He asked, not looking at you.

You breathed in, trying to steady yourself before you dropped the bomb that would blow everything out of the water.

“I-I’m pregnant.”

Charlie froze but he didn’t turn to look at you. His mind raced with thoughts, more thoughts than he could handle.

“P-pregnant?” He said quietly after a moment, still not turning to look at you.

Charlie believed that no man was without sin. But the sin of your relationship was something he had taken all on himself, not wanting you to be tarnished in anyway. But he had failed because now you were pregnant. Maybe this was his penance, caught up to him at last, because now you were full of sin. And the child you carried would be born of it.

“Charlie? Please look at me.” You whispered, your eyes welling up.

He turned his head and you saw his eyes mirror yours. Both of you were thinking the same thing. What would happen now? What would happen to your relationship, to your child, to Charlie’s faith? He couldn’t do the right thing and marry you as it went against the rules of the church and if your relationship ever got out then you would be a pariah in this town.

You see, no man was without sin, least of all Charlie. But his sin was so beautiful that he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop himself. His sin was you, and he never wanted to give you up.

[spikedfearn]

You Keep on Sayin’ You in Love Tho, So Tell Me, Are You Really Down? (Yeah)

One-shot

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: you and Bjorn shotgun during your ascent in the hauler—and then some.

a/n: 📣 100 follower special 📣 I've been wanting to write a shotgunning fic since I first saw bjorn smoke that spliff in one toke, it was ridiculously hot and I just had to be totally normal about it in the theater. this is a reimagining of the escape from jackson's star so the character dialogue/actions will not be movie accurate. title from the song "self-care" by mac miller.

warnings: established relationship, recreational drug use, shotgunning, PDA, making out, dry humping, oral (receiving) possessive behavior, you're that couple

wc: 3.1k

The low rumble of the metal grate beneath your feet as the Corbelan ascends leaves you feeling momentarily weightless, like you're floating before gravity pulls you down, feeling heavier than usual.

You’re strapped in, anchored by a sturdy crossed seatbelt that comes down over your shoulders and buckles in next to the opposite hip, white knuckling the lip of the seat on either side of your thighs, eyes closed tight as you hold your breath.

It feels surreal, your heart thumping hard against your rib cage, knowing you all just pulled off the biggest heist in Jackson Star’s history, stealing highly-regulated equipment to leave behind a shitty life of indentured servitude.

It's something you've all discussed at length for months, Tyler being the one to initially suggest the idea while you were all drinking late one night, mapping out an escape route in yours and Bjorn's shared trailer, sitting on his lap with his legs spread wide, arms loosely circled around your waist.

Still—you can't believe it actually worked, breaking into the hauler and getting it up off the ground without any hiccups, half expecting sirens to soon blare throughout the endlessly dark sky or for the engine to stall, it just feels easy. Too easy.

You feel Bjorn’s hand on your leg then, taking notice of your growing anxiety, always able to pick up on any shifts in your mood, no matter how subtle, not when it comes to you.

Running his thumb along the inseam of your dark-washed jeans, he squeezes your thigh afterwards out of reassurance. It helps, even if only just a little, your palm finding its way into his, weaving your fingers together between you, a fair bit calmer now that you're holding your boyfriend's hand, roughed up and calloused from mining.

He's always been able to read you, ever since you were little, knowing exactly what you needed when you needed it, sometimes even before you did, causing your progressively growing affection for him to flourish into something else entirely, something beautiful, until you were crushing hard and just couldn't bury it anymore, no matter how hard you tried.

Luckily the feeling was mutual because after your drunk little confession, the only two still awake and drinking, sitting in the cramped living room of his trailer away from where the others were passed out, you hooked up on his futon, sweating out years of romantic and sexual tension that had built and built and built between you until it finally came to a head.

Everyone was happy for you both as soon as they woke the next morning to you wearing Bjorn's loose tee from the night before and a pair of clean boxers, arms linked and swinging down between your bodies, going shy when Navarro sighed, “fuck—finally,” and Tyler coming up to squeeze Bjorn’s shoulders from behind, telling him, “see? Told ya’ she wuz’ just as inta ya,’ mate.”

That was three years ago and you've been dating ever since, completely mad for each other as Bjorn liked to put it, which you think sums it up quite nicely.

You complimented one another, able to make up for whatever deficiency the other was lacking in. You were the only one that could truly calm him, talk him down from the proverbial edge when his anger started to boil over in response to whatever bullshit life threw at him. Reminding him that you were in this together for the long haul, which always did the trick, watching the way he'd soften in your hold and silently nod, looking just as vulnerable on the outside as he felt on the inside.

And he was the only one that could truly get you to relax when you were stressed out, like a hydraulic press trying to crush you under the weight of your own problems. Reminding you not be so serious all the time, to enjoy the little things, like right at that moment, when he'd be spooning you in bed at the end of every night, drawing miscellaneous patterns over your midriff with one hand while he combs his fingers on the other through your hair, still damp with sweat after a passionate round or two.

It wasn't perfect but it was yours, and that was enough for both of you.

The hauler Navarro’s piloting hits a rough patch of turbulence as it cuts up through the polluted cloud cover, Bjorn withdrawing his hand from yours to unbuckle himself and stand, unsteady on his feet, forcing him to hold onto one of the steel bars to ground himself there.

He plucks a rolled up joint from the front pocket of his dark gray drop shoulder hoodie and lights it with one of his shitty zippo's, the confined oxygen combined with the freighter's acceleration causing the flame to shoot up high and wide, nearly singeing his eyebrows off. The others laugh at his accidental little joint trick, including you, watching him proudly nod his head around at everyone when he manages to keep all his hair.

It smokes fast, faster than he was expecting, his eyes rounding in surprise as the paper burns all the way down to the roach in just seconds, cheeks swollen with a sudden mouthful of smoke, thin milky tendrils slipping past the seam of his lips.

Then Bjorn leans down and cradles your face between his hands before capturing your lips with his without hesitation, not that you mind, permission never requested and approval never needed anytime it comes to kissing between you two, parting your mouth when he parts his, letting him exhale smoke into it.

It inflates your lungs almost instantly, like two blistering hot air balloons butting up against your ribcage, getting you super stoned off the rip. You feel the muscles in your body relax all at once, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him in impossibly closer, working your tongue into his mouth.

There’s just something about shotgunning with Bjorn that gets you so worked up every time you partake in it, maybe it’s the intimacy of it, so close you can see Bjorn’s pupils dilate from the drugs and the desire, but you always find it ridiculously sexy whenever he does it.

You hear the quiet click of your seatbelt as Bjorn unbuckles it for you, pulling it up and off you before tugging on your wrist to get you to stand with him, pulling you into him, one arm circling your upper back to spread his fingers over your shoulder blades while the other grabs a handful of your ass, not once breaking the kiss.

It’s hot and heavy from the outset, it always is with Bjorn, likes to skip the teasing and jump head first into the deep end with you in tow. The slick sound of your tongues meeting is mostly drowned out by the pulsing engine and Navarro announcing the position of the gearshift when she changes direction, everyone pointedly ignoring the free show you’re giving them, already used to it by now, Bjorn never one to shy away from PDA.

However unlike him it took you awhile to warm up to it, always going a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed whenever he'd lick into your mouth or pinch your ass in front of everyone, but you learned to like it, love it even, looking forward to it every time he does it, which is all the time.

He places one knee between your legs and grinds his hard on up against your thigh, a low buzz humming between your ears like static from a television, swallowing the noises the other is making, grinding back against his thigh, your underwear getting increasingly wet as a result.

The friction between you is delicious—downright addicting, whining every time the denim of his jeans roughly catches your clit, dry humping his thigh that much harder, feeling pleasure quickly mounting inside of you, spurring on the frenetic roll of your hips. God does Bjorn know how to get you going, until you're needy and pliant and begging for him to fuck you.

“Such a naughty little minx ya’ are,” Bjorn exhales into your ear, a breathy groan that has you shuddering in his hold, “gonna make ya' come all over ma’ face while I go down on ya,’ would ya’ like tha’ princess? Me splittin’ ya’ wide open with jus’ ma’ tongue?”

Before you have a chance to respond, the others collectively groan in disgust, Tyler cutting in to voice everyone else's thoughts, “christ, can ya' take this somewhere else? Cousins really shouldn't hafta’ hear their cousins say shit like tha’ yanno!”

Bjorn smirks, lazily rolling his head in the direction of his cousin, running his tongue flat over the curve of his top teeth, “awe, jealous you ain't gettin' any action cuz?”

Tyler glares, no actual malice in his eyes, always willing to put up with Bjorn's ridiculous antics even when he clearly doesn't want to, “no, not at all, I jus’ feel like I need a shower now s’all. Ma’ brain hates ma’ ears fo’ even havin’ ta’ hear tha.’”

“Yeah, a cold one amirite?” Bjorn cracks as he walks away, leading you with his arm around your shoulders down the Corbelan’s corridor towards the back where the bunks are, tucked into his side while he playfully squeezes your bicep. He leans in close to nip at your throat just above the worn scoop neck collar, prone to leave marks, both of you liking the visual reminder that you belong to him.

There are two bunk rooms, the one Kay is lying in to help combat some of her morning sickness during takeoff, and the room adjacent to it, the empty one, is the one Bjorn pulls you into, crowding you up against the ladder as soon as you're through the open doorway, feeling metal rungs bite into your back through the loose fitting t-shirt you're wearing—Bjorn's shirt.

“Less get these rags off ya’ sweetheart, wanna taste tha’ pretty pussy of urs before we get inta’ space,” he rasps, grabbing the hem of the ratty fabric to pull it up and off your head, his hand easily finding the clasp on your bra to unhook it.

He licks his thumb and index finger to gently roll your nipple between them, eliciting a moan, high and needy in pitch, your head falling back against the platform the uppermost mattress is sitting on with a quiet ‘thunk’ because of it.

Bjorn chuckles watching your reaction, an arrogant smile on his face, always so smug with how quickly he's able to get you falling apart, always so receptive in his hands, more than familiar with every sensitive spot and erogenous zone located on your body, replacing his fingers with the wet suction of his mouth.

He doesn't take his time like he normally does, loves toying with your chest until they're red and raw and littered with purpling hickeys of various sizes until you're a whimpering, quivering puddle beneath him but tonight he's on a mission, having thought it out long before he filled you in back in the cockpit.

“I'd love ta’ suckle on ‘em titties a little longa’ but I got a betta' way ta’ use ma’ mouth, don'tcha agree princess?” He whispers, warm breath ghosting over your face, tickling your heated skin, causing the hairs there to stand at attention.

“Mmmmm,” you hum, short on breath, whining in response to him pinching the side of your heaving tit, knowing what he wants before he even voices it.

“Words babe, use ‘em,” he orders, circling his thumbs counterclockwise over your hard nipples like the joysticks on the console he plays when he's not playing with you. Your back arches into his heated touch, moaning, “I—yes. Please Bjorn—baby, want you to eat me out, want you to split me wide open with your tongue and come on your face like you promised you would. Please.”

“Well, since ya’ asked so nicely,” he grins, satisfied with your answer, getting you to lie down on the bottom bunk sideways so your legs are dangling off the edge of the thin bed.

It's a tight fit, definitely not big enough for him to crawl in after and fuck you in, regardless of the position you'd attempt to do it, but that's not his endgame right now anyway so it doesn't really matter to either of at you the moment. You'll figure that out later, when you're officially on course for the nine year journey to Yvaga III. The others are all gonna fucking hate you both by the end of it.

Kneeling on the ground between your legs he grips either knee and spreads them wide open, instructing you to lift your hips a little so he can shed your jeans, leaving you in nothing but your damp cotton panties.

You watch as he licks over his lips, slow and deliberate, like he’s eying his favorite meal, a new wave of wetness gushing out of you, reflexively trying to close your legs so you don't soak through the mattress but Bjorn's hands stop you from doing so.

“Don't get all shy on me now princess,” Bjorn smirks, thumbs brushing over the crease of your pelvis, flirting along the edge of your underwear, “s'not like I haven't seen it all before or nothing.”

Then he’s closing the distance, taking a big whiff between your thighs, the rapid flutter of his lashes and the growl that rumbles through his chest inciting a needy whine out of you, “always smells so fuckin’ good, so wet ‘n ready fo’ me like tha’ naughty little slut ya’ are. Gonna fuckin’ devour ya.’”

He blows cool air over your warm, wet core, causing you to shiver, trying to grind down on his face, his hands on your hips stopping you, punctuating the air between you, “patience sweetheart, we’ll get there, probably don't’ have much time left ‘nyway.”

Bjorn finally, finally rips your underwear down and off, throwing the bend of your knees over his shoulders before burying his face in between your thighs, licking between your dripping folds from the base of your throbbing core up to your clit, tongue circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Bjorn,” you whimper, electricity circulating through you like your veins are made of live wires, feeling high off the weed and arousal and adrenaline as your boyfriend eats you out, ankles locking behind the scruff of his neck to keep him there.

“Thas’ right baby, say ma’ name, is tha’ only one ur eva’ gonna moan cuz this pussy belongs ta’ me n’ me only,” he growls, giving your thigh a possessive little squeeze as he spells the letters of his name out on your clit to really drive the point home.

And the thing is—Bjorn's absolutely right, his name is the only one you're ever gonna moan, the only one you ever want to, because Bjorn doesn't just own what's between your legs he owns what's inside your chest too.

It’s the crude way Bjorn spits on your entrance that has you closing your legs around his head, moaning his name like a prayer, like you aren’t already wet enough, distantly aware it's just another way for him to stake his claim over you.

He probes the tip of his tongue against your opening, throbbing in anticipation, clamping down on the warm wet muscle as soon as he wiggles it inside, first an inch, then two, groaning as the taste spreads over his tongue.

It always drives you absolutely crazy how vocal Bjorn is when he's going down on you, like he's getting off on it more than you are, the noises he's making causing tremors of pleasure to undulate through you, blindly fucking back onto his tongue as a result.

He increases his persistence, steadily fucking his tongue in and out of you, one of the arms he has loosely circled around your thighs letting go to rub circles into your clit instead, applying just the right amount of pace and pressure to have you trembling in his grasp.

You continue to roll your hips down, growing frenetic with your rapidly approaching climax, cervical muscles contracting like wires being wound up tight, clenching around your boyfriend’s thick tongue while you grind up into his thumb, wet from his spit and your fluids.

Moans are freely spilling out of you know, oscillating between breathy little whimpers and needy whines of Bjorn’s name and phrases like, “baby—fuck,” and, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” orgasming just as the quiet boom of the Corbelan breaks through the surface tension of the exosphere and enters orbit, sunlight pouring through the window of the hauler and bathing you both.

Bjorn’s face is wet with your release, licking up your thighs and between your folds to clean you up, licking you into hypersensitivity, pulling your hips away when it starts to hurt. He kisses down your leg, gentle as he helps swing your legs in so you’re lying on the mattress correctly, crawling in to join you.

While it might not be big enough for you to fuck in its just right for cuddling, his arm going around your waist to reel you in close, groaning when you lean your head back against his shoulder to lick some of your juices off of him. He’s still fully clothed, hips pressed up to your naked ass, tracing over the dice tattoo on the back of his hand.

“Want me to return the favor?” You ask, fucked out and spent in his arms, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with sleep. Still, you’d power through the exhaustion if he wanted you to, just for him.

“No need princess,” Bjorn smiles, soft and affectionate, kissing behind your ear, “already gone limp. Gonna hafta’ change my boxers when I got tha’ energy. Tha’ pretty little sounds ya’ make really gets me goin.’”

You feel heat pool low in your core at the idea of Bjorn getting off on just your moans alone, meeting his eyes over your shoulder, dazzling in the sun. He kisses you then, full of love and passion, cradling your jaw to keep it turned towards him, thumb sweeping across your cheekbone, from the bridge of your nose back to your ear.

“Jus’ as breathtaking in tha’ light princess,” he whispers, eyes roving over your face, the same look he always gives you when he’s being incredibly sweet, like he’s been staring at the sun long before he saw the real thing.

A warmth spreads through you because of it, warmer than anything else in the universe, even the sun.

[gnomewithalaptop]

Batfam Time Travel Fic Recs

Because @clarenceislazy requested it on my last fic rec compilation, here's a list of my favorite DCU time travel fics! They're all pretty Batfam-centric, but eh niche is niche what can you do

Damian fics:

A Good Place by LemonadeGarden - Damian gets sent back in time to a Batman who's never had a Robin. Very sweet, very fun.

The Rule Stands by Engineerd - After Dick's death, Damian has to deal with a time-displaced ten-year-old Dick Grayson. Love a good Dick and Damian bonding moment, PLUS this gets a happy ending <3

to stay in one place by Jezebunny - Injustice!Universe Nightwing!Damian time-travels/dimension-jumps to a timeline where Dick Grayson is still alive and his counterpart is still Robin. Ugh this is so angsty -- I have an unreasonable amount of love for Injustice Damian

looking for the shapes in the silence by popsunner - In a world where Dick died on the job, Damian falls through a hole in reality where Dick is still alive and finds that some things don't fit the way they used to. SUCH an amazing representation of complex grief -- literally every time I read it, I cry

Steph fics:

time slip by almondrose - A mistake in time leads to six Robins meeting. Honestly, this one is kinda cracky, and only barely qualifies as Steph-centric, but I still like it a lot

and we'll never be the same by almondrose - Steph and Tim go on a road trip to figure out the post-universal-reboot anomalies. This is more of a post timey-wimey-bullshit fic than a real time travel fic, BUT I think it's real cute regardless

Tim fics:

Tractors by lieu42 - Ooh this one is honestly so so fun! In a reimagined universe where DC's heroes operate out of the UK, Red Robin Tim finds himself right back in the year before everything went to hell. He has a duty to get back to his correct timeline so he can find Bruce, but with Bart and Kon still alive, there's a part of him that doesn't want to leave. Literally SO well written and trippy as hell -- this fic deals a lot with addiction, drug use, and grief, so definitely go into it forewarned. TimKon

not for very much longer by CreamOfTomatoSoup - ugh what CAN'T I say about this fic, apart from the fact that it's one of my favorite time loop fics of all time. Post Cult of Dionysus Bernard Dowd finds himself reliving the worst day of his life -- the day Darla got shot. Featuring identity porn, Steph as Robin, Original-Personality!Bernard, the grief of a childhood you can never return to, and the weirdness of having to interact with your significant other when he's currently a sixteen year old who doesn't know he likes dudes. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's not abandoned, just a wip, and I legitimately cannot recommend this fic enough. This fic made me read War Games. This fic made me a Darla Aquista stan. This fic made me ship timbern. Please read this fic.

Jason fics:

The View From Jade by lowflyingfruit - Jason Todd accidentally travels back to before Bruce took Dick in. I feel like this is on every time travel rec list, but what can I say: I'm a basic bitch

Two Dead Birds by InsaneTrollLogic - Jason Todd wakes up in the middle of his Mob Boss Era and immediately decides to rewrite his own history. This is very funky fresh of him, just in my personal opinion.

Dick fics:

So It Goes by 60sec400 - Bruce from Dick's Robin era receives a troubling call from Nightwing. Be warned -- this fic is angsty as hell. Implied major character death. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's a lie (the author has specified they intended it to work as a oneshot)

In This Or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch - Dick-as-Batman ends up in Battinson-era Gotham. Again, I think this counts more towards the Dimension Travel pile than the strict Time Travel variety, but I'm still putting it here because I enjoy the hell out of it

a million dreams by CaptainOzone - In the seconds between the trapeze line snapping and their bodies hitting the ground, John and Mary Grayson find themselves transported twenty years into the future. SO GOOD I honestly can't stand it.

If you think I missed a fic you love (or if you've written any yourself and want to self-plug), feel free to drop a link in the reblogs! Especially if you know of any that center around Steph, Cass, or Duke -- istg I've scrolled through fifteen pages of the AO3 Time Travel tag, and I've found like maybe two fics that center around any of them. It's honestly a little ridiculous

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 16: Teatime

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: 18+ - explicit sexual content, drug use Word count: 4.4k

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The next day Aubrey Hall continued to teem with activity under the watchful eyes of the Duke and Duchess. Benedict notified Mr. Dewitt that Sophie would be retained as a member of the housekeeping staff during the country visit. If the steward had any thoughts about the whiplash instructions he was receiving in regards to the newly arrived maid, he was wise enough not to betray them. 

Benedict’s mind hadn’t stopped whirring since his encounter with Sophie in the drawing room the previous day. After returning from the lake, his sister gave no indication that she suspected anything untoward. It seemed their secret was safe. But how much longer could they carry on like this, sneaking through hallways in the dead of night, scurrying into unoccupied rooms? The risk of their discovery would increase tenfold when the family and guests started to arrive. Sophie was correct that they would need to actively avoid one another. He hadn’t even contemplated what would happen at the conclusion of his family’s hosting duties when he would be expected to return to London. 

In the midst of his colliding thoughts, all he could think of was his need for Sophie; his yearning to watch her lips part as he made her gasp, his hunger to make her come apart, his ache to hold her in his arms. He set up an easel in his bedchamber and tried to unleash his feelings on a canvas, but found himself lost in daydreams of her. Rash as it may have been, he sent word to the kitchen specifically requesting that Sophie bring him his tea.

His heart bounded when she opened the door, tray balanced on her hip as he had seen her so many times before while convalescing. Her smile was brighter than the sunlight streaming through the windows. 

She set the tea tray on a table and curtsied. “Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Sophie.” Her name left his lips with a sigh of relief. “Are we not done with formalities when we are alone together?”

She returned a coy smile. “Very well, Ben. I assume you summoned me for a reason. Would you like me to sit for my portrait?”

He stepped toward her, feeling a stab of guilt that he could never seem to concentrate long enough in her presence to complete his work. “I certainly intend to finish your portrait. That is a gift I promised you. But I’m afraid my thoughts are too preoccupied to give it the attention it deserves at the moment.

“Preoccupied?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as he closed the distance between them and ran his knuckles across her cheek.

“Anticipation of my family’s arrival. And thoughts of you. Knowing we must keep our distance once they arrive.” 

“Yes, we must.” Sophie swallowed, feeling the familiar bloom of heat just from his proximity. 

“But we have today.” Benedict nuzzled against her cheek, delighting in her scent, the faintest hint of amber and vanilla. 

Sophie’s eyes rolled closed and she grew pliant in his arms, but her mind still registered the risk of their encounters. “The Duke and Duchess…”

“Are calling at Romney Hall nearby,” he explained. “My sister is a friend of Lady Crane. She is ill and won’t be able to attend the visit.”

“The children?”

Benedict snickered. “Are with their army of nurses. The time is ours.” He pressed his lips to hers, soft and plush, and she was bereft of any further protest. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to…join me in calming my thoughts?”

“How do you mean?” Sophie asked, noting the mischievous flicker across his features, his crooked grin triggering a spark of excitement.

“An elixir procured by my younger brother in his travels. Whatever it may be, I find it both soothes the nerves and opens my mind to artistic inspiration. When paired with a canvas it helps me produce some of my most…experimental work.” He ran a hand gently through her hair, gazing at her as if she were his greatest muse. “It’s an experience unlike any other, and one that I’d like to share with you, if you are willing.”

Sophie was surprised by his offer, that he was inviting her to join him in more than just carnal pleasures. She had never tried any such substances, but assumed the effects must be different than strong drink. On a few occasions she had indulged enough to experience drunkenness with her fellow servants, usually on holidays. She found the sensation not unpleasant, a numbing carefree haze, but it did have a way of stealing joy from the following day when she would wake with a headache and bitter mouth. But she trusted Benedict implicitly. He would ensure her enjoyment as he introduced her to something new.

“How does one take this elixir?” She asked.

“A powder added to tea.” He wiggled his eyebrows and moved about the room, producing a small pouch from a drawer in his writing desk and shaking it playfully before resting it beside the teapot. “Medicinal in a way not unlike your tinctures, but entirely unique.”

Nodding her consent, Sophie sat across from Benedict at the small table and watched as he poured them each a cup of tea and added small spoonfuls of the pouch’s vibrant purple powder. He stirred and handed her the mixture, insisting she take the first sip. Tentatively, she brought it to her lips.

“You may wish to hold your nose,” Benedict coached. “The smell and taste can be a bit foul.”

Sophie did detect a whiff of something pungent, vegetal but charred somehow. Holding her breath, she took a full sip and scrunched up her face as the aftertaste withered her tongue.

“Ugh,” she grimaced as Benedict giggled. “You claim this makes you feel better?”

“Give it a moment,” he grinned. “You will see.”

___

In what felt like no time at all, Sophie became aware of her altered state. A single cup of Benedict’s mystery tea and she found herself able to count the motes of dust that floated in the shafts of sunlight. As opposed to the numbing effect of alcohol, she found her mind and body heightened in awareness. She was fascinated by the friction of her dress against her skin, the tactile surface of the table and the fine china, and the colors of the fabrics throughout the room. Having drunk his own cup, Benedict seemed to be fixated on color too. After ensuring she was feeling well, he had gone to his easel and was blending oil paints directly with his fingers on both palette and canvas, making sweeping motions with his arms, entirely lost to inspiration. 

Sophie didn’t know how long she lazed in her chair watching him. The tea made time seem untrackable and irrelevant. She certainly did feel her nerves calmed and mind opened. She was content to simply gaze at Benedict, the man she secretly loved, drinking in the sight of him and every feature she adored. His tousled dark hair, his animated brow, pale blue eyes locked on his work, lopsided smirk appraising what he was crafting. Her focus narrowed to the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, the tendons flexing in his muscular neck, and the veins surging in his paint-streaked forearms. He had rolled his sleeves to the elbows but was otherwise fully dressed in a floral patterned waistcoat and pinned cravat, and for some reason this struck her as aggravating. With every inch of her skin sensitized in a way she had never known before, she wanted to touch and be touched, to taste and be tasted, to learn what it felt like to ascend to the plane of bliss when she already felt herself high above any clouds.

With a boldness that surprised even herself she rose, marched to Benedict’s side, took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. Light danced behind her eyelids as the sweet flavor of his lips cascaded over her own. Benedict froze, holding his hands to either side so as not to cover her in paint.

Sophie pulled back and they both chuckled, heady with the closeness of each other as much as with the tea. Kissing him again, she found herself entirely absent of inhibition. With his hands unavailable she was in control and the realization was undeniably thrilling. There was something she had been longing to try and now was the perfect moment.

Continuing to savor him, her hands went to work unwinding his cravat. Benedict stood still, humming in amusement as they kissed. Once the fabric was in her hands, cool and slippery, she moved to stand behind him. On tiptoe she wrapped the dark blue silk around his eyes and knotted it in the back.

“Blind man’s bluff?” Benedict quipped, sounding befuddled.

“Shh.” Sophie giggled as she moved back to face him and contemplated her next move. The buttons on his waistcoat were slowly unfastened and the garment slipped carefully over his technicolor arms and onto the floor. Biting her lip, she snapped his braces against his chest causing him to gasp before she pulled them down from his shoulders. Next was his shirt. Sophie could hear him breathing harder as she pulled the hem from his waistband. She leaned to his ear and whispered, “Raise your arms.”

Giving himself over to her direction, Benedict grinned uncontrollably as she undressed him. He did as he was told, lifting his arms in front of himself to accommodate her height and she pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. He stood before her blindfolded and shirtless, chest heaving, trousers jutting out unnaturally with his stiffness. Feeling more seductive than ever before, she traced a finger from his jaw down his neck, chest and abdomen, admiring. He was muscled, athletic, and his pale skin was so soft, smelling of soap and his oil paints. Sophie knelt down to pull off his boots, running her hand lightly down the front of his trousers on her way, causing him to hiss from the sensation.

“Lift your feet.” He obeyed and she pulled off his boots and stockings. Sophie remembered the night at the inn where she had awkwardly relieved him of his clothing out of necessity. This was a decidedly more pleasurable echo of that encounter. They were both breathing quite hard now, knowing there was only one more garment left to remove. Sophie remained on her knees and reached up, slowly unbuttoning his trousers. His hands clenched into fists and she could see him gritting his jaw. She smiled as she slid the last of his clothes down and bid him to step out of them. Now he was nude and erect with anticipation. She delayed a moment, waiting to strike. She would surprise him. She knew he was expecting her hands; how she usually touched him. She would skip that step.

Benedict gasped as her hot, wet mouth encircled him. It was a shock to his system, standing naked and blind in excruciating silence, broken suddenly by his cock being devoured. He reached out to hold her head but she swatted his hand away, reminding him of how soiled they were. Groaning through clenched teeth he fought to stand still and just let her have her way with him. It was agony and paradise combined, a flood of feelings as his swirling senses honed in on her attentions. The minx inside sweet Sophie had been unleashed by the tea and he was both proud and humbled that she was offering her own form of experimentation to match his. 

At long last Sophie was fulfilling her wish to take Benedict in her mouth, to show him just how fervently she longed to please him, to worship his body as he had worshipped hers. She found the act surprisingly enjoyable, knowing the power she wielded from her knees. Hearing the needy sounds he made and looking up to see his mouth hung open with awe gave her her own satisfaction in turn. After a few pulls along his manhood she leaned back. “How is this, Ben? Inspirational?” She flicked her tongue across his tip.

He groaned, legs buckling. “Yes, Sophie. It’s…you’re wonderful. Just…just like this. Your lips are like the kiss of heaven.” She chuckled, knowing he would likely spout something poetic even if they were not under the influence. Motivated to push him even higher into the firmament, she leaned forward to consume him again. She tried different motions, licking and sucking, back and forth, her tongue dancing around his veins, her hand rising to join her mouth in stroking. Whenever Benedict moaned above her, she persisted with that action. 

Then she tested herself, seeing how deeply she could take him. Slowly, she pushed further and further toward his body, pulling him into her mouth, relaxing every muscle she knew how. She knew he was in her throat once she could no longer breathe. An odd, somewhat alarming sensation but she felt in control. Staying relaxed she began to move gently, sucking him as before, letting him penetrate an entirely new area of her body. Having the most intimate part of him warm and heavy in her mouth was a comfort and sin she could never have imagined.

Benedict positively shouted with surprise as he breached Sophie’s throat. He instinctively tore the cravat from his eyes, looked down and saw her face practically flush with his pelvis, eyes closed in concentration as she rocked back and forth. He was buried so deep that when she finally gagged, he felt as if he were swallowed, squeezed with a pressure and heat that threatened to topple him. He shuddered, mind gone completely blank. Sophie pulled back and came up for air, gasping after his entire length slid out of her beautiful mouth. She wiped her lips on the back of her hand and smiled up at him, looking proud of herself.

“Sophie Beckett, you marvelous creature,” he beamed down at her. With a smug gleam in her eyes she set herself on him again and Benedict rocketed skyward. He murmured praise and suggestions, hips beginning to thrust as she sucked him eagerly. She had a natural talent with her tongue that he knew was liable to destroy him. The warmth of her mouth, the suction of her lips, the challenge in her dewy eyes gazing up at him, it grew too much to bear. As he felt himself nearing the peak he pulled back.

“Sophie, I’m…I am nearly there.”

“Good,” she smiled, tearing away the collar of her uniform and beginning to loosen her frock. Benedict watched, agog as she undressed, stripping down to the waist. Then she wrapped a warm hand around his length and began to pump, her breasts bare and bobbing hypnotically as she stroked him. Whatever fire had been lit within her, he vowed to keep it tended. Gazing at each other open mouthed, she commanded him softly but intently. “Come on me.”

Seeing and hearing how hungry she was for his release brought it to fruition in a moment. Knowing nothing but the wave of ecstasy beginning to spasm through his body, Benedict needed to stabilize himself before he jettisoned off of the earth. His hands fell to Sophie’s shoulders and gripped tight, smearing her in a rainbow of fingerprints as he dropped his head with a cry. Painting her in two ways at once, his breath escaped in halting gasps as she milked him onto her chest. 

Sophie never stopped her movements, coaxing him through the aftershocks. When Benedict fell to his knees before her panting, she grinned with devilish victory. She was just as capable of reducing him to a breathless mess as he could her. It made her feel closer to him, more trusted, and more desirable.

“Sophie,” Benedict marveled at her, barely able to muster words. “I’m sorry. Your shoulders…”

He pointed at the streaks that ran across her skin. She looked down and saw the epaulets she had earned. Bright ornaments of sinful endeavors. The fingerprints of her lover seared into her for all to see. The whole room was twinkling in a dazzling spectrum before her eyes and she felt honored to be made a part of it. With a twist of her lips she collected the palette he had dropped nearby and dipped her fingers into a sky blue shade, then swiped it gently across his abdomen, coloring him as well.

Benedict looked at her quizzically, then she ran a purple thumb across his jaw. Catching on, he wet his fingers in forest green and brushed them across her cheeks. Giggling, Sophie next took a daub of orange and swirled it in circles across her chest, blending it with his seed, painting herself with his essence. Benedict swallowed hard, dumbfounded, and then found himself moving like a man possessed, stripping her of her remaining clothing, hauling her up onto the settee and burying his face between her legs. 

The day progressed as a gauzy fantasy, the two of them wrapped in intoxicated wonder and all the sensations they could gift each other. They lost count of their climaxes, Sophie returning time and time again to swallow Benedict and bob her head until he gasped her name, and Benedict on his knees in equal measure, sucking her furiously as she bounced against his tongue. After the poetry they penned with their moans, they broke to make art with their flesh, painting arcs, swirls and handprints across skin, gradients of desire and whimsy, blending with their own juices, traces of themselves ending up on the canvas which had clattered to the floor.

Hours later as the sun began to set, they found themselves looking like madmen, wrapped in sheets, disheveled and covered in streaks of paint from head to toe. Benedict had the presence of mind to wrap Sophie in one of his shirts and hide her in the bedroom next door while he donned a robe and called for a bath. He didn’t much care what the maids thought of seeing him smeared with paint with his hair standing on end. It wouldn’t be the first time he had ended up like this after a dose of the powder.

Working together and casting him sideways glances, Finian and Lizzie brought a large copper tub to his room and filled it with steaming water. Lizzie scented it with oil and a sudsy soap that left bubbles floating on the surface. When they finally exited, Benedict collected Sophie again and locked the door behind them. She giggled helplessly while he stripped her of what little she was wearing and helped her step into the steaming water. She shivered and sank down, allowing the water to rise above her shoulders and neck, even right up to her nose, and then closed her eyes. It felt like heaven.

“Lean forward,” Benedict murmured, kneeling on the floor beside her. She did, and sighed with pleasure as he began to wash her back, making clouds of red and yellow paint swirl into the water. 

“We’ll make you all shiny and new again,” he grinned, kissing her shoulder as he scrubbed her arms. Sophie leaned forward and rested her forehead on her bent knees, blushing.

“Dunk your head so I can wash your hair,” he ordered.

She slid under the water, a magical, enveloping sensation while she still felt the fuzzy influence of the tea, and then quickly came back up. 

The green streaks of paint on her cheeks started to run down the length of her face. But rather than make her look wretched, Benedict thought it gave her a phantasmal beauty. It made her eyes glow as he had never seen them - glittering emeralds refracting all the light in the room. He rubbed the paint from her face with his thumb as she held his gaze. He suddenly found that it was hard to breathe. Probably a side effect of the tea. 

He busied himself by rubbing the bar of soap in his hands and then began to work the lather through her hair. “Do you prefer your hair short?” he asked.

“I had to cut it,” she said. “I sold it to a wigmaker.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have heard him growl.

“It used to be much shorter,” she added.

“Back under.” 

She dunked back in the tub, swirling her head this way and that under the water before coming back up for air. 

Benedict cupped his hands and filled them with water. “You’ve still got some in the back,” he said, letting the water pour over her hair.

Sophie let him repeat the process a few times, until all the paint was removed as far as she could tell and the water had turned a milky purple. “Aren’t you coming in?” She raised an eyebrow and was met with that cheeky lopsided grin.

Benedict let his robe fall to the floor and stepped in across from her. He groaned with pleasure as he lowered himself, immediately dunking under the water and smoothing back his hair. Sophie took the cloth and went to work scrubbing his fingers, his arms, every inch of him. Their incessant giggling was fading into pleasurable hums and sighs as they caressed each other in the water, gently, curiously. They kissed each other’s necks, arms, foreheads. There was a chastity to it despite that they were fully nude together after an outrageously lascivious afternoon.

Sophie was drained. It had been without a doubt the wildest and most exploratory day of her life thus far. She knew she was still under the giddy haze of the tea but her senses were growing sharper. Time slowly seemed to be returning to its normal rate and her mind was quieting. The last of its effects, the joy of being with Benedict, and the warmth of the lapping water made her euphoric. Benedict had leaned back against his end of the tub, eyes closed. Sophie couldn't stretch out her legs underwater without awkwardly laying on top of him, so she planted her feet to frame his head which made him look up and chuckle. She grinned and bent an elbow over the side, resting her head on her arms. Benedict ran his hands lazily over her knees and the two of them sat in contented silence, descending from their high and soaking up all the heat the water could offer.

Benedict stared at Sophie, resting serenely as glinting water droplets ran across her collarbone. She was dazzling. Never a word that he had thought to associate with a housemaid but it was truly how he felt. Where in the world had she come from? This beautiful, daring and exciting woman whose wit, moods, pleasures and interests so perfectly aligned with his own? He genuinely wondered if she had worked in the Cavender house at all and wasn’t some faerie that had wandered out of the woods to enchant him. These days alone with her in the country had been some of the happiest he had experienced with a woman. He was ready to find her an apartment in London, to send her there with an allowance to buy anything she fancied, and to have all of her servant’s clothes burned. He could do it tomorrow. She shouldn’t spend another day working for his family.

“Why do you want to keep working at this ball?” He asked her.

Sophie lifted her head, brow furrowed. “So I can earn some money.”

Benedict sat up and leaned toward her. “You don’t need to earn money. I’ll take care of you.” He pressed his torso against hers and murmured, “I can give you whatever you want.”

Whether it was her pride or some courage gifted to her by the tea, Sophie felt no fear in being honest with him. “I don’t want you to.” Her voice was more stern than she had intended and he scowled. 

“Why can’t we just stay like this? Have this time together?” She nuzzled against his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. This was everything she wanted, or at least everything that she could reasonably have with Benedict. She would never experience her dreams of marrying him, or walking on his arm in public, or being with him forever. But she could have these days, weeks or even months if she were lucky, where they enjoyed each other’s company and bodies, and she was grateful for it. Incredibly grateful. It wasn’t perfect, but it was closer to her dreams than she could have ever imagined over the past two years. She would cherish these days forever, but she refused to hinge her hopes or her future on them, when they would never lead to anything.

“I don’t want to be kept somewhere,” she confessed. “Locked in a pretty box for you to play with.”

Benedict pulled back, looking insulted. “Why?”

Sophie sighed, overcome with the weight of her emotions and a wave of approaching sleep. “Because it can’t last forever and I will need work to fall back on.” She rested her head back on her arms and closed her eyes. “You must tell me once you find her,” she sighed.

Benedict looked at her, startled. Find who? Surely she didn’t know about…

As if reading his mind Sophie continued, mumbling. “The woman you will marry. So that I will know to leave. Promise me, Ben.” Her head lolled as she drifted off, her last words barely above a whisper. “I cannot share you.”

Something in Benedict’s chest clenched and again he found himself struggling to breathe. Suddenly the thought of not having Sophie around was unsettling. More unsettling than it should have been for having known her such a short time. She didn’t want to share him with his wife. Did she mean to reveal that to him or did it slip out? He couldn’t tell how it made him feel. Once again he knew she was right. He doubted he could sustain a life as a bachelor chasing after a maid who refused to be kept as a mistress. He would need to marry. Hell, a part of him wanted to marry. It was who that was the problem. He couldn’t find the lady in silver but knew that if he ever did and if she would have him, he would marry her and then there would be no room for Sophie. It made him sad and it made him confused and he was so damned tired. So he resigned himself to following Sophie’s lead and just enjoying the time they had together, for however long it lasted.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903 @sincere-sarcasm @kmc1989 @makaylan @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @alexandrainlove @chase-your-dreams-away

[theyapper0]

OKAY!!!!!!! TEENAGE CHARLIE (Going by Charlotte at this point still)

FEATURING A MORNINGSTAR FAMILY PORTRAIT‼️‼️‼️‼️

So I know everyone and their mother thinks Charlie being an emo teenager is HILARIOUS (just me? Ok) BUT I think, at least in this sorta rewrite/reimagining, it can be tweaked.

From what we've seen from the little of Charlie's backstory, she's never been.... BAD. Like, I understand she's not a bad person but what made her believe that people could change???? What was her reason for thinking that???

And what better proof could she have than herself!!??

(and ofc maybe the show DOES have an explanation as to why she thinks the way she does but I think the best reason for her to believe that people, more specially SINNERS, could change is if she HERSELF had changed!!)

More explanation on teenage Charlotte and some other stuff under the cut in case you don't wanna hear my rambling hahaha

So what I imagine is that Charlie didn't start going by Charlie until AFTER she decided to make a change for herself.

So Charlotte Morningstar is the only child of the Devil, Lucifer and the first woman, Lilith, as well as the sole heir to the throne of Hell.

And she was a total sleazebag.

She did all kinds of drugs and partook in all of the Hellish virtues that eternal donation had to offer, that also includes the infamous hunting trips that she and Lucifer would go on together (as mentioned in this post)

She was aggressive, violent and unfaithful. I imagine that Charlotte was a total shit ass kid who got into trouble all the time (which was basically encouraged by Lucifer and so long as she did what Lilith told her when it came to meeting advisors and ruling, Lilith didn't care how she was either)

Charlotte still dated Seviathan like in canon. I wanted to lean into the Eldritch part of his name but something that isn't too complicated LOL, so I made him have a whole bunch of mouths all over him (his right eyes, his ears, and there's a LOAD more that are just usually covered up by his clothes). He's like a mouth themed vampire-demon thing to me <3

He's pretty arrogant and mean, a huge jerk like Charlotte, that's why they were together. They were both really similar at the time and just enabled each other's bad and violent behaviors.

Then eventually Charlotte realized that hurting people and being super evil was NOT GOOD and began to change. (This change is noticed in her physical appearance (no longer showing her horns) and starting to go by Charlie :)

This caused a LOT of rifts and tension between her, her parents and peers tbh (this was expanded on in this post)

And have a little bonus for humoring me with my insanity.

I think once it's revealed that Vaggie was an exorcist angel, Charlie's gonna fucking FLIP (obviously). Her biggest reason is still how it was in canon, how Vaggie had lied to her and kept the whole thing a secret BUT!!!!!

She's also gonna feel conflicted BECAUSE she ALSO did bad in her past and she doesn't wanna look like a hypocrite if she's crucifying Vaggie for doing the same! But she's mad! But she also did bad!!! She's just gonna be super mixed up and conflicted and confused LOL

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

hiiii! could you recommend me some catching fire AU/married in cf fics? thank you soooooo much <3

Hello Anon!

Below is a list of MarriedinCF!Fics. Hopefully some of these are new to you! I've added this topic to future masterlists and have a few more ready to post! Happy reading!

74th Hunger Games Challenge: We Always Were-Jamie Sommers (ff) Summary: A/U This is based on a challenge in which K&P enter the 74th Games as a couple. This is based on the book, the movie but mostly my imagination. Everyone's POV. Find out how Peeta gets with the Careers. What Gale thinks about K&P's relationship... Sequels are Catching Fire: Rekindling and Mockingjay: Broken Wings A.M.-Lenai17 (ff) Summary: Snow is convinced during the Victory Tour that Peeta and Katniss are genuinely in love. What happens when Snow asks just a few more things of them? AU A Change of Heart-MooseDeEvita (ff) Summary: AU. Instead of the Quarter Quell, Snow forces Katniss to marry Peeta as entertainment for the Capitol. This turns out to be just what Peeta and Katniss needed to finally act on their own feelings for each other. Afterglow-taliiaa (ao3) Summary: Katniss feels she owes Peeta an apology after she realizes how her sudden suggestion of marriage hurt him. Always-dandilyon (ff) Summary: Peeta and Katniss are forced to get married a little earlier than they anticipated. How will it effect the Quarter Quell, and eventually, the rebellion? A Marriage Between Victors-optimus_pam (ao3) or (ff) Summary: What if the Victory Tour ended with a wedding rather than an engagement? A story that explores what would have happened if Peeta and Katniss had been forced to marry. How does this change affect their relationship? District 12? The rebellion? As Real As Real Can Be-albinokittens300 (ao3) Summary: During the nights on the train, Katniss comes to accept how deeply she feels about Peeta. And when they have to be married for the Capitol, she decides to do something for them. Even if it's only them who knows. Barren Prologue-silverdoe91 (ff) Summary: AU of Catching Fire where Katniss & Peeta actually get married and she receives a second visit from President Snow before the Quarter Quell. Behind the Veil, Beneath the Shroud-ghtlovesthg (ao3) Summary: She's an escape artist and he's a master of disguise. Having convinced Snow and Panem during the Victory Tour, the star-crossed lovers find themselves the darlings of the Capitol. And all that entails. AU following the Victory Tour.

Blazing Free-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Catching Fire reimagined. Canon Divergent. Katniss Everdeen & her co-victor Peeta Mellark have spent every waking moment since they won the 74th Hunger Games trying to appease President Snow and keep their loved ones safe from the Capitol's wrath. They have played their parts to perfection as star-crossed lovers, and mentors. But when Snow puts a new inconceivably sadistic demand on Peeta and Katniss, they have to decide whether they will continue to used as pieces in the game, or whether to change the rules all together. (Mature themes, mentions of depression, allusions to non-consentual sex, underage drinking and drug use, violence, cursing, Everlark smut, some Everthorne drama, minor character death, etc.)

If anyone knows of a fic like this, please reblog, reply, or send an ask with fics fitting this idea and I’ll add it to future masterlists!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

[yournewlodger]

I think the self-built criminal empire "drag yourself up by the bootstraps" ification of Oswald Cobblepot is indicative of a larger problem with Batman that refuses to address that hey, maybe billionaire politicians who hoard all the wealth with a refusal to relate to or in any way help the less fortunate, are bad maybe. Like of course the Penguin is a self-made criminal immigrant mob boss, because these days you can only be a Batman villain if you are 1.) Mentally Ill or 2.) An Immigrant. And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with characters being immigrants. Before you say "how dare you piss on the poor" please understand I'm talking about intent when you see these characters always presented as villains.

And I'm all for reimagining characters for the modern lens, and I fully understand the inherent problematic nature of a character like The Penguin, and maybe I will be Bobo the Fool when The Penguin (the show) comes out, but I think reframing the Penguin as something out of The Godfather severely misses the point. Not only because never more have I wanted superhero media to critique billionaire criminal politicians running for public office (historically, the Penguin's whole bit), but because we don't need the Penguin to be something out of The Godfather. We have someone for that already. And clearly they know that. Because his name is Carmine Falcone.

I think that this notion that the only crime in Gotham City has to be drugs, prostitution, human trafficking, and domestic terrorism severely misunderstands the inherent whimsical nature of superheroes, and historically the Penguin. I mean we are circlejerking into infinity a self-hatred in superhero media. His name isn't even Oswald Cobblepot anymore. When's the last time the Penguin had an umbrella?

And here's the thing. I like Gotham (2014 - 2019). I do. But that universe at least understood that the Penguin is aesthetically ridiculous. Try as they may to present him as a threat, but he will always be a guy who calls himself Penguin.

I do think this problem started with Batman Returns. I'm not here explicitly to critique that version of the Penguin, but I do think it's where we began to lose the plot. Because once again the Penguin is presented as an underdog, a minority, an outcast. And again I ask you to think about intent when the Penguin is a villain and Batman is not. But that movie had Max Shreck to balance it out. What do we have now?

They are so, so allergic to presenting the rich as villains, because they'd be calling themselves out. Because calling the Penguin what he is, a cartoonish portrayal of a wealthy Gilded Age capitalist who preys on the less fortunate to further and further elevate his own wealth, doesn't align with their messaging, which is "billionaires are so awesome, and more importantly, infallible." The Penguin is meant to be an antithesis to Bruce Wayne, who is also generationally wealthy, but most importantly a philanthropist. Bruce Wayne is supposed to be someone who dedicates all he has to making Gotham City a better place, which also includes helping reform Gotham’s villains. But these days we see a man who more and more seems less like a hero, and more like a Penguin. Because if Bruce Wayne cared about Gotham City, really cared, beating every one of his villains to a pulp, just shy of his "no kill" quota, would be less of his focus. I mean how does a man with near unlimited resources allow institutions like Arkham Asylum to exist, let alone send his bad guys there?

And yeah, I know. The answer is the Batman mythos has turned it into The Good Place. His world is too complicated to do any real good. And yes, I know, it mirrors our world too. But why is it that the people who are pointing out that corruption, these We Live In A Society types, the villains? Why are they always the one presented as "insane" for pointing out what's right in front of them? And when's the last time Bruce Wayne did charity work, anyway? Tell me, who are we supposed to be rooting for in the end?

Anyway, the summary is this: The Penguin isn't a Capitalist anymore. The Penguin isn't even a Cobblepot anymore. Who is he? Because he isn't the Fine Feathered Fink I know. And we all know why. And personally, I'm sick of it.

[avelera]

I saw the IWTV finale early thanks to a kind soul sharing it with me!

A few (spoiler-y) thoughts:

Really interesting how they reimagined and framed the ending of this take on IWTV with Louis and Lestat mourning Claudia together. It feels like Justice For Claudia in many ways, it feels like a fitting homage to the origins of Claudia's character (the dead of Anne Rice's daughter from leukemia as a child), and in general was just a really interesting way to sort of give this closure the book never did and also use it to realistically allow them both to push forward past their toxic and abuse past into a somewhat plausible healed future.

It was also a decent reminder, to me, that these are vampires. These characters live forever. I would not condone Louis/Lestat in real life because life is too short to keep going back to an abusive ex. But these guys are vampires. Do not do as they do. But genuinely 70 years, a human lifetime, is realistically long enough to say, "Hey, we're new people now, we've learned and suffered a lot, we lost our daughter and it was fucked up. Maybe all we have is each other." And make peace with each other on that front.

BUT NOW I'M WONDERING HOW WE GET ROCKSTAR LESTAT - ok because Louis kind of got Lestat's book motivation for becoming a rockstar? The "Fuck you, come find me," to all the other vampires. Lestat I believe only speculates that as Louis' motivation, but they made it canon (or I could be wrong).

But that was Lestat's motivation for HIS book, making Louis and the others come find him. Since that's been solved with Louis coming to find him (lovely little homage to the IWTV movie with him playing the harpsichord) now I'm wondering if Louis is the one who encourages Lestat to become a rockstar and write down his book.

Thing is, it's not totally contradicted by the book. (SPOILERS) TVL does end with a beat where Louis and Lestat reunite and Louis is kind of his groupie for a bit. Moving that up so Louis is part of Lestat's rise is actually a really lovely touch, it gives them a bit more time together before shit goes down, and I could totally see this version of Louis as Lestat's agent since he's shown to have that business acumen.

Now that Daniel is a vampire (OMG OMG OMG MORE ON THAT IN A SECOND) the risk is no longer so bad for him to come interview Lestat and I'm sure he's salivating to do so and Louis would definitely invite Vampire Daniel to do the interview for Lestat's book, since there's no fear for his safety (or at least, not as much) anymore. And Daniel would jump at the chance. It would be a fabulous framing device, Rockstar Lestat with his agent, Louis, inviting Daniel to interview Lestat for his next book AND it means we get Daniel's snark throughout Lestat's story.

OK SO DANIEL BEING A VAMPIRE. Definitely leaves the door open for past AND present Devil's Minion WITH THE ADDED BONUS of Daniel not going insane after he's turned (likely owed to not being turned while still a drug addled young man so, hey, if there was past Devil's Minion where Armand said no, kudos to him for reading the situation correctly that vampirism would drive young Daniel insane but not Old Man Daniel).

I was SLIGHTLY, SLIGHTLY bummed to see Daniel as a vampire without getting to see the whole Daniel/Armand situation but only slightly. There wasn't enough room in the season, it would have been a distraction, and IMO we can now save it properly for its place in either TVL or QOTD, which I bet are going to be Seasons 3-4 or as many as 3-6 if we stick to 2 seasons per book.

A take on Devil's Minion where past and present Devil's Minion are intertwined would be AMAZING and I've got my fingers crossed that's how they do it. Maybe interweave a bit of Vampire Armand.

I don't think/know if we're going to get a full Vampire Armand season BUT I do believe the show is going to pivot its POV lens to say, hey, everyone's got a point of view, everyone's got a reason. At some point, we're going to get more of Armand's POV and why he did what he did because I imagine his version will be different from Louis', just as Lestat's is, that's the whole basis of the show. And in there maybe we'll get some past Daniel/Armand.

Ok this already got away from me but ANYWAY, those are my thoughts for now.

[aftgficrec]

Can't believe I caught this open. I love your page. Was just wondering about fics centered around medicated Andrew. Like the foxes realizing that the drugs were more harmful than helpful. Thanks!

Medicated Andrew is an AFTG hot button theme with a good amount of fandom meta, discussion, and umbrage to be found. Some fic writers go the fix-it route with time travel aus or canon divergent stories with different or zero meds (here's the ao3 unmedicated Andrew tag). When Andrew is on the problematic medication it’s usually Neil who wants it gone, but sometimes other foxes see it too. We also found aus with unexpected people wanting Andrew off the meds…can you say Tetsuji Moriyama or Fox!Harry Potter? We have a good amount of Andrew’s pov, and fanart that’s like whoa. What I’m saying is, buckle up for a wild ride, rabbits. -A 

previous recs:

Andrew’s meds here

‘They All Burn the Same’ here (updated)

‘take two’ here

‘Deals With Devils’ and ‘The Sun Still Rises’ here (both updated) 

‘The Sphynx and the Hare’ here (completed)

‘Hope Was A Dangerous, Disquieting Thing’ here (updated)

‘i'd die for you (that's easy to say)’ here

‘California Drifting’ here (updated)

‘Of Ocean Tides’ series here

‘This Is What Hollows’ here  (completed)

andrew pov:

‘The Court-Hole Fox’ (completed), ‘Fuck the Game’ series, and ‘oh be cautious, do not stand too near’ series, plus ‘Monster’ and ‘Monster 2.0’ (both updated) here

‘Fold me in your palms’ here

‘Therapy session’ here

‘Odd Eye’ here

‘Stranger To Stay’ here (updated)

‘The Real Thing’ here

‘And we’ll be running’ here

‘One More Time (With Feeling)’ here (updated)

‘we destroy everything we need’ here

you may also like:

post easthaven andreil reunion here

foxes revise opinion of Andrew here

‘Live Once More (This Time Will Be Better)’ here

‘Inked Truths’ series (parts 1 and 2) here

‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ here (updated)

I hate your smile by PateticabutBunny [Not Rated, 2066 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

One day on the relationship between Andrew and Neil And the drugs

tw: vomit, tw: addiction, tw: mania, tw: medication side effects

Another Raven in the Nest by 0bsessednerd [Rated M, 4051 Words, Complete, 2024]

“Minyard will cooperate, I’ll find a way.” Kevin ensured them. and Riko gave him a dangerous look. “If you don’t I will.” Riko said coldly, and everyone knew he would. Kevin better keep his promise, thought Neil, or Minyard was going to not have a good time. No one spoke for the rest of the flight. ~~~ Neil has a nightmare of Andrew being in the nest and part of the perfect court. As imagined it doesn’t go well

tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: abuse, tw: torture, tw: ptsd

I would choose to live all this a thousand times, if in the end, I had you by FayeS2 [Not Rated, 42517 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

After almost a decade together, Neil and Andrew travel back in time to Neil's first year at Palmetto. Now, they must relive demons from the past. But at least they still have each other.

tw: drug use, tw: homophobia, tw: violence, tw: blood

Good Men Lie Too by heybabyricecake [Rated M, 100678 Words, Complete, 2024]

Me: Andrew and Neil are perfect for each other <3 their love story is iconic and they are otp and it's a crime to ship them with anyone else!!!!! Also me: Anyways here's a KevNeil fic :) Canon reimagined as if it were Kevin and Neil falling in love!! I take some of the story line from the original series but there's also very different plot points for Kevin and Neil for obvious reasons! Not Kandriel sorry. This fic answers the question: What happens when two Exy obsessed idiots fall in love???

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: vomit, tw: canonical character death, tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: homophobia, tw: involuntary outing, tw: assault, tw: blood, tw: attempted rape/noncon, tw: kidnapping, tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism

Glow In The Dark by Anonymous [Rated M, 20984 Words, Complete, 2024]

If Riko Moriyama is Exy's number 1, Kevin Day is number 2. But, if Riko Moriyama is King of Exy, Andrew Minyard is the opposing pawn who’s crossed the board to become Queen. Andrew has spent far too long denying Riko what he wants and Riko has spent far too long fantasising about the day Andrew finally breaks to leave things as they are. And if you want a job done right, you really do have to do it yourself it seems. So RIko invites Andrew to Evermore for the holidays.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced medical abuse, tw: threatened rape, tw: abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: emotional abuse, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: nonconsensual restraint, tw: nonconsensual nudity and photography, tw: internalized homophobia

Vivid by Anonymous [Rated M, 6884 Words, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2024]

Andrew returns to Palmetto State after his spending his winter break at Edgar Allan. And he's fine. Totally fine. Obviously. Hello. Welcome or welcome back. Vivid is finally here and got longer than I expected. So technically, this is a sequel to Glow In The Dark but you don't need to have read it to understand. Everything important is either there in the summary or will be explained in the fic.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced medical abuse

A collection of Andreil one-shots by Auviic [Rated E, Collection, Incomplete, Updated Jan 2024]

Chapter 1: Andrew Minyard's mistakes [6567 Words] Andrew and Neil find themselves amidst a zombie-apocalypse.

tw: graphic descriptions of violence, tw: blood/gore, tw: implied/referenced suicide, tw: gun violence, tw: drug addiction

Chapter 3: Tongue tied [5125 Words] Nathaniel Wesninski is paired with a new partner.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: torture, tw: blood/gore, tw: implied/referenced abuse

Sunrise by DeeLeBee [Rated E, 26499 Words, Complete, 2023]

Part 1 of Sunrise, Abram, Death 

Listen. All fans of All For The Game hate this fucking series just as much as they love it and I am no exception. Nora's writing doesn't make sense in so many parts, there are plot holes, WHAT ARE ANDREW'S MEDS ABOUT, and Nora was a coward because she planned to make Kandriel a thing but chickened out. (Love you , Nora.) Anyway, I am here to remedy all these ailments.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: recreational drug use, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: nonconsensual kissing, tw: canonical character death, tw: self harm

We work well with crazy. by MBlack93 [Rated E, 45145 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2024]

Neil is on the run for his serial killer father and apparently a Yakuza family with delusions of grandeur. Harry is on the run for the Dark Lord, the Light Lord, and practically the whole Wizarding World, except for the Goblins. Because Goblins are awesome.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced food withholding, tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced human trafficking, tw: nonconsensual drug use

Andrew pov:

A Monster, A Defender, A Psychopath (You Maniac) by Lytta323 [Not Rated, 1953 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

Andrew has a bad psychotic episode due to his medication and gets the help he deserved sooner.

tw: self harm, tw: blood/gore, tw: mania

What if I’m the Monster? by 0bsessednerd [Not Rated, ​​1130 Words, Complete, 2024]

The pills sat on the counter taunting him. He really didn’t want to take these. But when had Andrew ever gotten anything he wanted in his life? It was his fault he had to take them. That’s what everyone told him. If he hadn’t gone too far, if he hadn’t been a problem he wouldn’t have to be on these. He wouldn’t have to be high out of his mind every fucking day. He wouldn’t have to give in to the addiction. He wouldn’t have to go to therapy. He wouldn’t have to be reminded he could never be free. He wouldn’t be a monster. ~~~ Andrew taking his medication for the first time and how he felt doing it. And how he felt after the effects kicked in.

tw: implied/referenced hate crime, tw: implied/referenced violence, tw: negative self image

a foxhole collection: on possibilities and digressions by vicariously kingly (pelted) [Rated T, Collection, Last Updated 2016] 

Chapter 21: andrew minyard in wonderland [734 Words]

for the prompt: pre-andreil snippet. in summary: andrew on drugs.

Feet Don't Fail Me Now by freefromenvy [Rated E, 56824 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2024]

Neil was an exceptional runner until his past caught up with him. After years on the run, he was taken back to the Nest where he had to learn how to survive all over again. After Neil helps Kevin and Jean escape the Nest, Riko sends Neil to Palmetto to inform the rest of the Foxes that he will keep attacking their team, just like what happened to Jamie Smalls, unless Kevin and Jean return to the Nest. If Neil fails in his task, the Moriyamas will giftwrap, and hand deliver Neil to his father after he is released from prison. Neil has always known he has lived on borrowed time. He lived Alex's life, Stephen's life, James's life, and many more. Now all he wants to do is to be able to die as Neil and not as Nathaniel Wesninski.

tw: violence, tw: abuse, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced human trafficking, tw: blood/gore, tw: mutilated dead animal

Apathy by Marquee [Rated G, 144 Words, Complete, 2023]

Andrew thinking about people in his past. Including but not limited to awful foster homes, people who him on the drugs, people calling him crazy, just yucking people in general

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

Love Bites, Hate Bleeds by kongruenz [Rated M, 6286 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2024]

Andrew's at juvie with nothing to look forward to, no life, no passion, just the constant need to be numb and bury what happened, to forget. Until Coach Wymack, Kevin Day and Neil Josten appear in his locker room to recruit him to the Palmetto Foxes. _ An AU in which Neil joined the Foxes before Andrew, and Andrew looks at Neil for protection instead.

tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence

I don't want to by The_7th_Void [Not Rated, 3017 Words, Complete. 2024]

Andrew runs late night errands with Neil and tries to fight his drugs. Neil is confused but helps him anyway. Or Neil lies. Andrew is honest.

tw: vomit, tw: addiction

I took the pills for these empty nights by All_for_the_andreil [Rated T, 6013 Words, Complete, 2022]

He gazes at Neil and thinks about all the questions he’s too afraid to ask. Would you still want me when I’ll be a mess? Would you stay even after you see how fucked I am? Would you hate me if I stopped playing exy for good? And perhaps the most important one: Will they kill you if we fail this season because of me? -or- Andrew gets diagnosed with bipolar disorder and is prescribed medication. Given his history with that, he has some issues.

Träumerei by Sashe [Rated E, 12038 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2024]

Andrew never planned on joining the Ravens, not when Riko and Kevin demanded it, but Coach Moriyama is willing to bargain. And he sees right through Andrew in a way no one ever has before. He’s offering Andrew a home, people who believe him, a family who will never abandon him, and a chance at something to build his life around – something to live for. All he has to do is play Exy for him for five years.  or Just another Raven!Andreil AU

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: emotional/psychological abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

We will survive to live by Whyreme [Rated M, 20663 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2024]

Andrew had been a Spear since the age of thirteen. He endured a lot, but he had a mother, a father and a home. Until it all fell into ashes and his world was turned upside down. He fought back and lost everything, earning himself mandatory medication in return. So when Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day offered him a tempting deal, he couldn't refuse. He'd be a Raven, but that was a bigger cage than his alternative, right? or AU where Andrew never met Aaron and Nicky, was adopted by the Spear and has a very good reason to be a Perfect Court member. (Raven!Andrew and Raven!Neil AU)

tw: dark, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: hallucinations, tw: horror, tw: blood/gore, tw: implied/referenced child abuse and neglect, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: medication addiction, tw: torture, tw: murder, tw: vomit

The Avarice Never Ends by stuntinf8 [Not Rated, 1341 Words, Complete, 2022]

Andrew liked Neil Josten in the way that a cat might like a mouse: easy to tousle by the tail, quick to fuss, simple enough to rattle. The meds made it even easier. (OR A medicated Andrew reflects on the anomaly that is Neil Josten.)

fandom thoughts and meta:

Dependence and Addiction in All for the Game meta by @the-greater-grief [Tumblr, 2022]

I need to talk about Andrew's medication meta by @deadliestpieceontheboard [Tumblr, 2021]

if Andrew wasn't on anti-psychotics, what was he on? meta by @amiandthechaos, @sinistercacophony [Tumblr, 2021]

why abby was so vehemently against committing andrew to rehab early? discussion by @bookmarkmyword, @deadliestpieceontheboard [Tumblr, 2022]

Andrew -Medication or Incarceration ? meta by @lemonboyjosten [Tumblr, 2021]

thoughts about Andrew…his mental issues and medication? by @palmettomonsters [Tumblr, 2017]

Andrew’s meds make me so fucking angry by @kazzyboy [Tumblr, 2021]

Happy Pills by Weathers song analysis by @meanie-boy-minyard [Tumblr, 2019]

Art

Alien Blues art by @fortheloveofexy, on ao3 here

“It’s a cruel world” art by @swarenar

Put on a happy face :) art by @allfortheslay25

bloody smiles art by @rhyva

meds art by @/rhyvva on twitter

I'm not okay art by @creekgods

apathy is a tragedy art by @doesephs

medicated Andrew art by @yolkylemon

sober vs medicated Andrew cosplay by @/csplyxeva on tiktok

aftg-tober day 4 art by @i-did

[fallinginreversefanblog]

REACTION! On Falling In Reverse "The Drug In Me Is Reimagined" ❤️ Bill again! He did a double reaction, but I'm picking just the 2nd one. It's so good, I love how he's praising Ronnie Radke, so honest, you can believe his every word. And he's so amazed by Ronnie's vocals! 🥹

"I don't think anybody can cry out in desperation as well as Ronnie Radke. I mean he's a man crying in the wilderness, he's just screaming his heart out, it's right from his soul." (BemusingBill about Ronnie Radke) ❤️

[nicolettemarionette]

Business with Pleasure

Pairing: Kendall Roy x Reader x Stewy Hosseini Description: Stewy is preoccupied when Kendall comes to him with a pitch. You don't seem to mind the intrusion, though. Words: 1K Rating: SMUT (more under the cut)

Warnings: Cursing, drinking, implied drug use, smut, age gap, semi-public fondling, exhibition, teasing

A/N: A horny reimagining of S1E3 because I'm a slut for Kendall and Stewy ;)

Part 2 up now!

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It's a party; Kendall Roy had attended more parties than he could remember. From lavish galas filled with pissing contests of charitable donations, to tedious mixers spent appeasing disingenuous executives from billion dollar corporations, to ragers mixing copious amounts of recreational drugs and hard liquor. The gathering he finds himself at now resembles the latter - pharmaceutical helpers being handed around like party favours as soon as he steps onto the threshold.

He swallows down the itch to indulge, manoeuvring his way through the coked up crowd. A thick curtain separates him from a private room and the familiar laugh of an old friend. He's prepared, thoroughly confident in his approach as he pushes into the red-lit space.

Then he's unprepared for the sight of you; eyes half lidded, makeup smudged, lips swollen, hand gripping the older man's wrist, fingers hidden under a silky dress, hips rocking of their own accord. Kendall tears his eyes away, clearing his throat, "Stewy."

"Kendall," Stewy doesn't move his arm, despite your cheeks flushing at the intrusion. He merely raises his brows, "Kinda in the middle of something here."

"Yeah, well...we need to talk." It's curt and a clear indication for privacy, which Stewy wilfully ignores, his breath ghosting over your neck as he bends down to breathe in the familiar smell: a luxury fragrance he'd gifted you. Sweet, floral, delicate, just like you.

"Then talk."

Kendall frowns, then sighs exasperatedly, arms crossing over his chest as he looks everywhere but the lavish love seat you're sprawled across. "Okay, so you know how everyone kinda...hates you."

Stewy hums, "Uh huh. No, that's not something I'm aware of. Do you hate me, sweetheart?"

His fingers touch you again, lazily sliding over your pussy, grazing your clit, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. You shake your head pathetically in response to his question, though you're sure it's rhetorical. In reward he applies more pressure, a shit eating grin plastered to his face, corners of his eyes crinkling and the edges of his lips turned up; thoroughly amused as he watches Kendall's gaze going up and down your body so quickly he would've missed it if he hadn't been directly looking at him.

His friend swallows thickly, then states, as loudly and clearly as he can, "Well, people do, hate you. Private equity, getting their meat hooks in, chiselling your profit like uh, like a vampire locust fuck."

"What is this? Is this a roast cos...if you haven't noticed I kinda have shit to do." Stewy punctuates the sentence by dipping his fingers lower, groaning at how easily they slip into your entrance. He always knew you weren't as innocent as you feigned - from the auspicious smile you'd given him the first time he took you, in the restroom at some pompous art exhibition, and now this. He's embarrassingly hard.

The tension in the air is thick and hazy, hanging over you, heat blooming in your stomach with every deliberate stroke of Stewy's fingers against your walls, the man watching only adding to the searing desire. Kendall Roy is an easily recognisable man. You chance a look at him: tall, impeccably dressed, strikingly handsome, far older than you.

Dark eyes meet your own, momentarily, a certain hunger within them, teeth digging into his lips, "Right, well, I'll cut to the chase."

"Okay."

"How about instead of taking us over, you give us four billion dollars; I stay boss, you stop raiding shitty companies for scraps, you invest for once in a blue collar corporation that's currently..."

He trails off at the sight of Stewy's fingers pushing into your mouth. The way your lips close around them, suck them, Kendall definitely isn't imagining your tongue swirling around them. And he's definitely not picturing those lips wrapped around his cock.

His oldest friend gives him a knowing look, waiting for him to elaborate, which he does, stammering out the rest of his pitch, "Yeah, right. You know, it's currently undervalued by some unfounded concerns about its leadership, i.e: the 'Lord Fuckleroy' here. But, you invest, the story twists, happy ending for all." 

Stewy pulls his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down the valley of your breasts, brushing over your pebbled nipples, before ghosting over your thighs, toying with the fabric of your shift. "Obviously, I don't usually take minority stake in a company."

"Yeah obviously, because you're..." Kendall starts, then sighs. It's becoming increasingly hard for him to focus when Stewy's edging closer to your core again, the way your breath hitches telling him he's reached his target again. He folds his arms, "How about for once, you make things bigger? You know, with your old pal?"

Stewy suddenly plunges his fingers deeper than before, curling them and you can't help the needy cry that leaves your lips. He outright laughs, the sound dark and gruff as he shrugs to his 'old pal', "Bro, I can't even begin to think about this. But if I could, to sell it, I'd need boning stock."

"As long as we remain in control."

"Well," Stewy pauses when your hand finds purchase in the expensive fabric of his suit pants, self-restraint wearing thin, his hips chasing your touch, thrusting his fingers harder into you. "Effective control, okay. I'm also gonna need a board seat."

Despite Kendall's attempts to ignore the situation, the nervous rubbing of his neck gives away his discomposure. Still, his voice is strong, "Oh I'd force it on you, dude, for the optics. Shit hot CEO has some hot shit new money for investment. Yeah?"

"I'm not necessarily totally opposed to this notion."

"That's right, and luckily I speak Stewy. And that's Stewy for 'I've got a raging hard on for this." The moment the words leave his mouth he sees a barely suppressed bearded grin.

"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle a fucking minority," Stewy gestures to the sizeable tent pitching in the CEO's pants, brows raising comically. 

Kendall grimaces, adjusting his stance, "Oh, uh, sorry. But we're good, right?"

Stewy moves his fingers quicker, focusing on that spongy spot inside that has your face contorting with pleasure, pushing you towards orgasm and then his hand returns from your sticky thighs to pick up his glass. He raises it, "Yeah, we're good."

He rolls his eyes when you whine at the loss of contact, frustrated with his teasing. He takes a long sip of the bitter liquor, then before Kendall turns his back, adds, "But, just a thought. Why don't you...hang back for a bit? Celebrate?"

The insinuation clouds the air and before Kendall can even answer, he's being cut off, "I don't think-"

"What do you think, sweetheart?" His pet name has you in the palm of his hand, half smile on his face. "You want Ken to fuck you?"

You look nervous for a moment, but it quickly fades with the offer of being shared between two of the most powerful men in the city, "If...if he does."

"She's been practically soaked since you walked in. And you and Rava are done, right?"

"We're..." Kendall thinks back to the hurtful words exchanged, the emptiness of his bed. It's been weeks without contact, his sex drive through the wall. "We're separated, yes."

"And the banks not fucking you anymore, so how about you do some fucking of your own," as if he needs anymore convincing, Stewy's fingers are teasingly pulling the thin straps holding up your breasts. "Come on, it'll be just like old times."

Kendall tilts his head, looking past his friend to search your face for a moment, wondering if you're lust drunk or just fucking wasted. Then, he decides he doesn't really care. "Fuck it, yeah."

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A/N: This is my first time writing in a while and this is quite short and probably riddled with mustakes buttttt would totally be up for a part 2 if people want it. Any feedback is much appreciated :)

[aroaessidhe]

okay I was asked about fey books I’ve read that Do stick to folklore a bit more than certain popular books - and actually looking at what fey books I’ve read  it’s a bit like.... books that stick to folklore closely I sometimes Don’t Love, and there are others that don’t stick to it as much but I like the overall narrative more? or some mix of that. 

so here’s a list of a few - a range of how much they stick to folklore (which of course is an amorphous thing) and how much I like them, but it’s something!

YA

That Self-Same Metal - literally just read this, it’s about a Black girl who’s the stage blade expert for shakespeare’s company and can see fey, and they’re appearing more and more in the city. explores a bit of the midsummer night’s dream fey but also like “shakespeare was wrong” and general folklore. definitely the start of a series and has a lot going on but I thought it has some cool ideas!

all Holly Black’s books deal with them well! the Modern Faerie Tales companion/trilogy has maybe aged a bit by now, and I hate way the romance ended up together in The Folk of the Air (and the way the fandom is about it) but otherwise I do really like how it deals with fey and politics! also enjoyed The Darkest Part of the Forest. these are all intertwined/same world

The Buried And The Bound - a hedgewitch girl keeps fey away from her town, and gets caught up with two boys who are cursed. mostly deals with minor fey and a powerful hag

An Enchantment of Ravens - it’s been quite a few years since I read this, but I do remember enjoying it. It is a bit more of a romance focused story also, an artist stolen into the fey realm for painting a fey prince as if he was human(iirc?)

The Bone Houses - not directly dealing with fey, but like the aftermath of the ancient fey’s curses? welsh myth inspired. which I think is cool.

At The Edge of The Woods - about a girl in a religious/patriarchial village who starts to have strange dreams about a fey boy luring her into the woods. it’s not super focused on them, but they’re very much the classic ‘dangerous fey stealing people away for entertainment’ kind of thing

Adult

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries - I sort of have mixed feelings about this - I really enjoy how it dealt with fey and the creepier folklore creatures side of it! the handling of the changeling was a bit iffy and not sure about the romance

The Wolf Among the Wild Hunt - dark fantasy novella about a wolf-shifter made to join the wild hunt to save his qpr. focused on the unseelie/wild hunt area

Silver in the Wood - gaslamp fantasy novella about the keeper of a magical forest, dryads and dangerous fey

The Wind City - a bit of a mashup of fey folklore and Māori atua in a modern NZ setting

Sinners/Veiled - very classic but also with the element of a modern setting where human pollution is like a drug to fey (and the MC is a drug lord.) (so kind of dark but also not dark in the sexy way bc the MC is aroace)

Under The Pendulum Sun - this is a gothic fantasy that has a bit of a new take on a fey world, but also definitely has some of those creepy folklore vibes.

Siren Queen - this only partly involves fey but I thought the way that it mashed up old hollywood and fey (aka shady deals for fame themes) was interesting!

Sorcerer to the Crown/The True Queen - my memory on this is hazy, but I believe it’s regency fantasy, with its own take on a fey world/magic (moreso the 2nd book)

Malice/Misrule - adult high fantasy lesbian sleeping beauty reimagining, this is kind of doing it’s own thing I guess (I don’t remember if they’re even called fey?) but definitely has a bit of the creepy creature/court vibes in book 2 especially

In The Jaded Grove - I was just looking up books to see if there was anything I missed and found this, which seems interesting to me!

I also haven’t read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (but I watched the show ages ago) and I believe that has the vibe too