darkness was at his left hand

take this burden - 47

[ keep or lose - bronze radio return ]

‘It’s time to make some choices’

-

Mo Guan Shan woke up thirsty.

He Tian shooed the nurse from the room, promising to hydrate him.

He Tian handed Mo Guan Shan the glass of water she’d left, watching him take a small sip and put it down on the table next to the bed.

Dark bruises were slowly forming under his eyes.

He looked exhausted.

He Tian wanted to hurt someone.


Before he could so much as open his mouth to speak, Jian Yi knocked lightly on the doorframe.

‘Zhengxi has some questions for you, He Tian.’

‘Can it wait?’

‘No.’

He Tian assured Mo Guan Shan he’d be back as soon as he could and left the room.

Jian Yi took his place next to the bed, fixing the tangle of tubes and wires on the bed.

‘Mo Guan Shan, what the fuck were you thinking?’ He asked quietly.

‘What do you mean?’ Mo Guan Shan asked, surprised by the question.

‘Why would you go outside with him? What good could possibly have come from that?’

Mo Guan Shan looked away.

‘I…I thought if I talked to him I could get him to leave.’

Jian Yi took a deep breath, trying to keep him temper under control.

‘Really? Because your track record of being alone with him is just fucking stellar, right?’

‘No, I mean-’

‘No.’ Jian Yi interrupted.

‘You put yourself in danger, you put Zhengxi’s job at jeopardy because we all know he’ll tell whatever lie he deems necessary to keep this from becoming a real fucking problem and, worst of all, you put He Tian in a situation he can not handle rationally. I don’t know you well, Mo Guan Shan, but I didn’t think you were that fucking stupid. That fucking selfish.’

Mo Guan Shan’s blood ran cold. His heartbeat was the loudest thing in his head as he fought the childish urge to cry.

He didn’t know what he’d expected from this conversation, but it wasn’t this.

‘I didn’t ask for this, Jian Yi. I didn’t ask for He Tian’s help. Or yours. Or Zhengxi’s. You didn’t have to do any of this. You still don’t.’

Jian Yi laughed bitterly.

‘But he did. We did. He Tian clearly cares for you, so we do too, but this is the second time in less than two weeks that we’ve all covered for you and your recklessness. I don’t know about them, but I won’t be doing it again.’

Mo Guan Shan searched for the right response, for any response, but came up empty.

‘Jian Yi.’ Came He Tian’s voice from the hallway.

Mo Guan Shan turned his face away as Jian Yi stood, pushing the chair back, and shoved past He Tian.

He Tian followed him down the hall, nearly running into him when he stopped suddenly.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ He Tian demanded.

‘You’re being fucking stupid, He Tian. This shit between the two of you, it’s not healthy.’

He Tian raised his eyebrows.

‘I thought you’d understand this, considering…’

‘What Zhengxi and I have was born our of years of friendship and patience. Yours popped into existence in an alleyway a fucking week ago. He was hurt. You rescued him, hurting his abuser in the process. Have you considered that, possibly, this has been fueled by adrenaline? Loneliness? Perceived obligation?’

He Tian cocked his head to the side, nostrils flaring.

Fucking brutal.

‘I have, yeah.’ He Tian tried to keep his tone indifferent.

‘This is chaos, He Tian.’

‘I know.’

‘You shouldn’t want a relationship like this. You shouldn’t be so ready to go back to how you used to be.’

‘Shouldn’t I?’ He asked.

‘No!’

‘For fuck’s sake, I don’t HAVE anyone that’s loved me since I was a kid. Even if I still knew anyone I’d met when I was five years old, do you think they’d still be around? In case you haven’t noticed, people don’t seem to like me much once they get to know me.’

‘I do.’

‘You caught me on the tail end of that shit, believe it or not.’

‘You almost fucking died.’

‘It was hardly the first time.’ He Tian spat.

Jian Yi blinked at him in shock.

That’s right, fucker, here’s some devastating news I’ve fastidiously kept from you for years to avoid breaking your heart.

Brilliant.

He continued, knowing he was making it worse bin unable to stop himself.

‘I haven’t always been quite this likable and pleasant, you know. Why do you think I never bring anyone to dinner? Never tell you about anyone I bring home? I don’t know anything about them and they don’t know anything about me. I don’t care and neither do they. They like the way I look and I like that they don’t ask questions.’

‘So, what’s different now?’ he demanded.

Jian Yi was on the verge of tears, still reeling from his confession.

He hated it when Jian Yi cried and hated himself for being the reason.

‘I don’t know. Maybe is IS the adrenaline. Or the loneliness. Maybe I’m just going soft, but it feels an awful lot like what you assholes call love. It is chaos. I’m working on that.’

‘I just want you to be happy.’ Jian Yi argued, breath hitching mid sentence.

‘I know you do. Thank you. But your idea of happiness doesn’t exist in my world right now.’

‘You’re going to fuck this up. Everything you have going for you, everything you’ve worked so hard for, you’re going to throw it away on someone you barely fucking know.’

‘You’re not exactly in a position to give me relationship advice.’

Shit.

That was a low blow.

Too low.

He Tian wished he could snatch the words from the air the second they slipped past his lips.

Jian Yi flushed, quickly wiping away the tears that fell onto his cheeks.

‘Fuck you, He Tian.’ He whispered.

He Tian walked around him, giving him a wide berth, only to be stopped by Zhengxi as he rounded the corner.

‘What’s going on here?’ He demanded, looking past He Tian to where Jian Yi stood, shoulders hunched and shaking with silent sobs.

‘Move.’ He Tian told him.

‘Tell me what’s going on.’ Zhengxi insisted, stopping him with a hand on his chest.

He Tian shoved his hand away.

‘What the fuck is going on?’

‘Are you going to arrest me, Zhengxi?’
‘W-what? No…’

‘Then get the fuck out of my way, and stay away from him.’

Zhengxi held his hands up in passive surrender and watched him go.

He Tian drove back to the apartment, gathering Mo Guan Shan things.

It took three trips and a short struggle with the cat to transfer everything from Jian Yi and Zhengxi’s apartment to his.

He worked quickly, ignoring the tears that blurred his vision.

made his way back to the hospital and to Mo Guan Shan’s room.

Mo Guan Shan stiffened when he entered the room but didn’t look up from his hands in his lap.

He Tian rifled through the cabinets before perching on the edge of the bed.

In a practiced motion, he placed a cotton ball over the needle holding his IV in place and removed it carefully.

He cleaned the area with an alcohol wipe and applied a bandage.

‘What are you doing?’ Mo Guan Shan asked.

‘We’re leaving.’

‘But-’

‘Do you want to stay here?’ He Tian’s voice was much harsher than he’d intended.

Mo Guan Shan shook his head.

‘Then we’re leaving. The hospital can bill me and we’ll pick up your prescriptions later today.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Back to my place. You’re going to get some rest and I’m going to end this shit. This is never going to happen again, I’m going to make god damn fucking sure of that.’

‘But, I-’

He Tian cut him off, gently taking Mo Guan Shan’s face in his hands.

‘Never. Again.’

Mo Guan Shan hesitated, still a little dazed.

‘Do you trust me?’ He Tian asked.

‘Completely.’ He answered without a beat.

He Tian helped him to his feet and into his jacket.

‘Then let’s go home.’

WIP Wednesday

An excerpt from Ready for You, which will be posted on August 10th (it’s a post-canon 2x3 for @kangofu-cb):




They drank their coffee in silence, and Trowa was vividly reminded of one night on Peacemillion, late into the sleep cycle, when he and Duo had been the only ones in the mess hall. They had sat at separate tables then, each staring off into the darkness of space beyond the viewports, lost in their own heads. Duo had left first, passing by Trowa and hesitating before reaching out and squeezing his shoulder.

“‘S a good look on you.”

Duo’s voice drew Trowa out of the memory, the phantom pressure of Duo’s hand on his shoulder dissolving.

“What?”

Duo lifted two fingers and traced over the smooth skin around his own lips.

“Your beard thing. I mean, it doesn’t matter what I think, but I’m just saying… it’s a good look on you.”

Trowa reflexively reached up to touch the stubble that he just hadn’t cared to shave. He had started to let it grow out in February, had spent most of March telling himself he would shave the next morning, and now, in the middle of April, had finally decided to hell with it.

“Thanks.”

Trowa took another sip of his coffee and struggled to come up with something to say. He had never been particularly comfortable or competent in social situations. That this was an unnervingly awkward social situation with a man he hadn’t seen or even thought much about in a decade - a man who had known Trowa during some of the darkest and most painful parts of his life - was not inspiring Trowa to become a witty conversationalist.

“You cut your hair.”

Duo, mid-sip, looked over at Trowa and then choked on his coffee.

“Ugh, gah, uh. Sorry.” Duo coughed again, and then cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Trowa saw Duo’s lips twitch, saw the gleam of humor in his eyes, and he flushed with the realization that Duo was amused at his expense.

He clenched his hand around the paper coffee cup and willed himself not to care.

“Wait, wait.” Duo reached across the table, as if he was going to touch Trowa. He stopped himself, however, and dropped his hand to the table, fingers stretched out between them.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. I just… This is fucking weird, Trowa! Here we are, ten years later, and all we can think of talking about are beards and haircuts? Tell me that’s not, like, a little funny?”

Put that way…

“We never really talked much, back then.”

Duo nodded and took another sip of coffee.

“Yeah, plus you had that habit of punching me in the gut. So…”

“It was one time,” Trowa grumbled, but he felt his lips tug upwards in reaction to Duo’s own grin.

Loki is ambidextrous

He usually holds weapons like he is right-handed, and uses his right hand when he’s fiddling with his cup in T:TDW. The first could be learned, but the second is likely to be natural.

But, as we see generally, he’s quite dexterous with both hands–catching both daggers perfectly in the first Thor: Ragnarok trailer is a good example.

And sometimes he acts left-handed. In the new Ragnarok trailer, when on the Bifrost with the Hulk, Thor, and Hela, he has a dagger in his left hand but not one in his right. And when he reached out to Frigg’s illusion, and probably wasn’t thinking at all about what hand he did it with, it was with his left hand.

So it seems that Loki is not only equally dexterous with both hands, but also may use either in a situation in which he wouldn’t be deliberately choosing one.

Victor had three boyfriends during his teens. They were all summer romances, eyes made across the gym or the rink or the result of notes passed silently back and forth during English class every other morning of the week. And they were all short-lived, though not lacking any of the shy excitement that comes with first kisses and tight-grasped hands. 

Victor fancied himself in love with the third one: tall with dark hair and light eyes, a strong nose and an easy laugh. They were both seventeen. But of course Victor had had another great love as well, and that one always came first. It was his dream, Victor had explained patiently when he’d called to apologize for being late to dinner again. He nearly had his new combination down consistently enough to land it almost every time, and he couldn’t have left when he was so close and so focused. Yakov wanted another hour of practice. No, don’t bother coming to watch–I’ll be distracted. I have to focus. I want to give this everything that I have.

It hadn’t been a surprise, really, when the boy had walked away.

That was fine, because Victor still had figure skating. Boyfriends weren’t necessary. They’d leave him, it seemed, but he’d always have the sound of his blades on ice and the thrill of the air, of music in his body and the roars of a crowd in his ear. That would be forever, surely, because Victor loved it so much. It wasn’t like those things were people, glass-hearted and fickle and cruel. These at least would always stay–

But it was the love that left instead.

Fine, Victor had decided. Fine. 

He still had what he wanted, in the end. He still had the bright flash of lights and the cold ice that left bruises bright and hot whenever he fell. Victor still had long days and missed dinners, but missed by no one but himself, and really, he was missing nothing. 

Victor found love again at twenty-seven.

He found it in another man’s body. It was spontaneity first, the strength in challenge and calling Victor in: to him, not away from something else. Then it was in motion, in the music the other man made with his fingertips and quiet curves and bends, the way he sang a story without uttering a single word. Finally Victor fell in love with Yuuri: with every misstep, with every moment he rose higher, with his silent strength behind too-red cheeks and stammered demands.

I loved you first, Victor tells Yuuri in awe, thinking that perhaps Yuuri is the truth of love in life at all.

Yuuri says, I loved you always.

new mind palace sequence, listen: sherlock going through those doors in his mind palace and it’s still the hallways of the roland kerr further educational college but instead of redbeard in the middle of the floor, it’s just john, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, wearing that plaid shirt with the sheer maroon cardigan, looking off into the distance, and when sherlock comes in, his head turns, and he sees sherlock, and he smiles just a very very very tiny little bit, so little only sherlock could see it, only because he knows john’s face so very well. 

and john pushes off the wall and goes to sherlock, stands in front of him. you need to calm down, sherlock, he says. he sounds like his doctor self. his soldier self. the way he sounded just inside 221b’s door before Moriarty’s trial all those years before, the quiet authority, ready? before he lead sherlock through the crowd. the quiet authority of just a few weeks ago on the floor of a barracks bathroom, of steven, can you hear me? stay with me. sherlock says, i didn’t know, john, i’m sorry i didn’t see it. and john reaches out one hand, puts it on sherlock’s arm. they don’t touch much in real life but sherlock knows the size of john’s hand, the warmth of his palm. he knows it now. he knows it always.

don’t apologise, john says. i just need for you to be all right sherlock. i know it hurts, i know it does. i got shot too, remember? but i need for you to be all right. and it does hurt, it really hurts, and john is saying breathe, breathe, helping sherlock to his knees so he doesn’t fall down, helping him carefully to the floor. how did you survive it? sherlock asks him. how did you survive the pain? sherlock knows now how it is to be hugged by john, and john hugs him here, too, holds sherlock close to his body, shelters him. he smells like aftershave. his eyes are deep dark blue. i had to, john says, he takes off his cardigan and presses it to the wound in sherlock’s chest. it’s not bleeding, here in the mind palace, but the pressure hurts. i had to survive it so that we could find each other. and you have already left me once, sherlock, and i can’t do it again. do you understand? you do not get to die under my hands again, all right? john takes his face in his hands as sherlock’s heart starts to fail. softer now. we’re losing you, sherlock, and i need you to survive this, okay, i need you to do this with me. are you ready? so breathe. and john kisses his forehead. breathe. john kisses one cheekbone, breathe, and the other. sherlock, right now, okay? right now. are you ready? 

sherlock nods, even though he isn’t sure, and john says it one more time, breathe, and it sounds like for me, and he kisses sherlock’s mouth, kisses him hard and steady and certain, and somewhere in a surgical suite outside of sherlock’s mind, a machine beeps back into life. 

You Don’t Understand

Requested with the prompt: ‘when your try to leave but they tug on your shirt because they want you to stay’

{2448 words}

Peter had done it again. He had promised that he wouldn’t be late again. That he wouldn’t flake out on your plans, again. After the first couple of times it had happened you brushed it off, but now it was now the norm that Peter didn’t show up. And a miracle when he did.

After hours of waiting in your apartment for Peter to come through the door you had given up. You pushed all of the study notes and school books away from you as you moved away from the dining table. Glancing at your watch it was now just past half eight, about four hours since Peter was expected to be at your apartment. You could feel the anger boiling up inside of you, ready to explode at any minor thing. And you just begged to yourself that it wouldn’t be Peter to catch the brunt of it. So in an attempt to calm your bubbling emotions you stepped outside onto the fire escape, and allowed the fresh city air to try its best to wash away your emotions. But the longer you sat out on the fire escape the more your mind overanalysed everything Peter had done in the last month that had gotten on your nerves. You didn’t want to be doing this to yourself, but you knew that you were only doing this because Peter was your closest friend. He meant so much to you! And you just couldn’t understand why all of a sudden he didn’t seem to care about you anymore. Had you done something wrong? Had you said something? He would have told you. You would know if you had. It just didn’t make sense. You need the reassurance that everything was okay between the two of you. You couldn’t fathom losing Peter to something that must of been so minuscule for you to look over it.

Before you realised your body was taking you off the fire escape. Your feet guiding you to your room to grab your jacket. You were going to go to Peter’s apartment and see what was going on. In the back of your mind you really hoped that Peter wasn’t home, and that Aunt May would tell you he was still at that damn Stark Internship. You wanted to see what was going on with him but you were scared of what might happen, and what could be said.

You had made it to Peter’s apartment door. The adrenaline was wearing off and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Knocking on the door gently, you waited for either May or Peter to come to the door. It only took a couple of seconds before you were greeted by May’s smile.

“(Y/N)! I wasn’t expecting you! How lovely to see you again!” May smiled, opening her arms in front of her, engulfing you in a warm hug.

“I’m so sorry for just popping in like this. I didn’t even think of calling first.” You realised, following May over to the small dining table.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that! You’re always welcome here sweetheart.” May said reassuringly, “Peter’s just gotten home and is in his room, just go on through (Y/N). I’ve just got to run out and get something for dinner.” She continued, her warm hand placed on your back and nodding towards Peter’s bedroom. You thanked her quickly and headed towards Peter’s door. His door was cracked open slightly, but no sound was coming from the other side. You couldn’t make up your mind if you wanted to open the door slowly or just kick it open. You settled for the first. As the door opened you saw Peter sitting at his desk, his head placed in his hand in exhaustion. Your heart and mind softened slightly at the sight of him. He only moved slightly at the sound of his door closing completely. Turning his head slowly to have his brown eyes look at the source of noise. Shocked by seeing you in his room, he fumbled as he found his feet and stood up from the chair.

“What? What are you - why are you? (Y/N)? I um.. Oh I’m so sorry. I told you I wouldn’t - but I have. I’m so -” Peter rushed, his worlds tumbling over each other as he tried to form a sentence.

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Damn Fine Police Work

Context: In a dark heresy campaign, my Iron Hands techmarine had just shot off the sword arm of an enemy officer charging me with a chainsword. I then crushed his other hand so he couldn’t fight back and dangled him upside down by the foot with my servo arm, attempting to interrogate him for information. At this point the officer is bleeding profusely out of both arms and what little blood is left in him is rushing to his head. My character is heavily augmented with cybernetics and takes a large penalty on any ‘charisma’ based interactions with anyone who is not.

Me (ooc): “I want to ask this guy about enemy troop locations in the area so we have an idea of what we’re up against.”

*critically fails the intimidation check*

DM: “You begin screaming incoherently while shaking him up an down with your servo arm. The mental strain he goes through trying to understand your nonsense while hanging upside down gives him a brain aneurysm and he dies on the spot.”

Me: “Apothecary! I require your skills to revive this important fleshling!”

Blood Angel Apothecary (successfully using his bone drill to perform complex brain surgery): “Don’t you die on me, human! I must kill you myself! The emperor demands it!”

DM: “The officer regains consciousness with the apothecary’s drill still lodged in his skull and immediately begins screaming in pain and fear.”

Me: “Cease your whimpering, scum! Tell us what we want to know!”

*fails another intimidation check*

DM: “The officer, not even knowing what it is you want from him, abandons all hope and begins begging for death. He promptly runs out of blood and dies. Again. No amount of “first aid” can bring him back.

Me (gently poking his corpse to see if he’s still alive): “Hmm…Perhaps I was not frightening enough. I will take this into consideration for future interrogations." 

Our Squad’s Devastator (who has a notably higher ‘charisma’ than everyone else and just watched the whole ordeal unfold): "Hey guys? Not to rain on your torture parade or anything, but uhh… I think I should handle the prisoners from now on.”

The apothecary and I disagreed.

Angel in the Darkness (M) pt.7

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

A/N:This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7



The air conditioning caused the dimly lit room to be abnormally cold, as Jin slightly shivered. He was sitting with his hands forming fists, while his father gave him a stern look.

He didn’t want to be here, that was for sure. He knew his father must have started to become suspicious of him, since it was taking an unusually long time for him to locate Jungkook and you. So when he got another message that his father wanted to see him – he couldn’t stop shaking.

What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t keep lying and give his father the same answer of ‘they are close.’ No, that definitely wouldn’t work this time, as he could tell with the look his father currently gave him.

“Son,” his father spoke with a grim voice. “How stupid do you think I am?”

Even though Jin was nervous, he managed to pull off his infamous poker face as he replied, “What ever do you mean?”

“Save your lies for someone else Jin,” the greying man mocked. “You may be able to fool others, but certainly not me. Now tell me where they are. Now.”

Keep reading

Issues (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Request: Jeep sex and a good bit of fluff.

A/N: This is my first story in like 8392 years and I’m so put of practice so please bare with me because it’s not great. Also shoutout to Emily. You’re the real mvp. Feedback would be great. 

Word count: 4,185

We were sitting in the jeep on the highway from Toronto back to Pickering and though we weren’t even half way yet, the drive seemed longer than usual.
Painfully longer. 

Though it was a rather warm summer day, I felt the chills run down my bare arms the soon as we got into the car. The pesky silence between us was smothering, suffocating really and made my entire body linger in the most uncomfortable way possible. 

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Whiskey

A Bucky Barnes One-Shot

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,717 (yup…)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Smut! Sexual penetration, oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, dirty talk, language, drinking, Bucky being everyone’s wet dream…

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, but I worked HARD on this one and I’m totally proud of it! (and before anyone asks, Howl at the Moon is a real bar in Indiana!) Enjoy. :) 



You stood in the street and looked up at the new sign that was being hung up in front of the building.

Howl at the Moon

Your pride and joy. You smiled with a shake of your head. This bar had just started out a little hole in wall. Nobody knew about it, and you were barely making ends meet with only 2 people on staff.

Now, it was a world-renowned biker bar. People from all over the globe have stopped in. You have worked hard to make it what it is. The many roaring engines from motorcycles and loud laughter rule this spot.

It kept your life interesting.

The alcohol stays flowing all night long and the grill stays hot. Your most popular item on the menu? Beer served in buckets. You would be surprised at how many buckets these burly bikers can put away.

Sing-a-longs, dance-offs and dirty humor keep your patrons coming back for more. Your lady bartenders have been known to jump on the bar to dance to some old rock n’ roll. Yourself included.

Ashley, your best friend, came up beside you and looked at the sign as well. “It looks fantastic.”

You poked her with your elbow, “Well I would hope you think so, you drew up the concept.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head, “I’m a genius.”

You looked up at the black wolf, nose pointed up at a blue moon with a howl. It was really going to stand out at night when it was all lit up.

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A Quiet Realization

The realization that she loved James Potter didn’t hit her like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t some epiphany she had in the middle of Charms while watching him laugh with his friends. She didn’t suddenly see him on the Quidditch pitch and think Oh my God, I’m in love!

No, Lily Evans realized she loved James in a slow trickle, little bits flowing in one at a time. First it was his laugh, that infectious mischievous laugh that meant something was afoot. Then, it was his hair. That stupid perpetually messy hair of his, that begged for her to tame it. Next, his hands. Spindly capable hands that could cast a quick spell just as well as they could gingerly bandage a cut. His eyes were next. Those brilliant hazel eyes that saw everything, and were almost always laughing. The first time she saw him cry, she almost came undone herself. She’d never known eyes like his.

His temper was quick and fierce, and once you crossed him he never forgave you. Everyone knew it. It was one thing that Lily couldn’t stand, until she saw that part of him unravel completely their sixth year. Sirius had messed up bad. The day he forgave his best mate, Lily fell for his new-found gentleness. She watched as James became more rounded and fell for every softened edge. She fell for his loyalty and the way he faced danger head on, standing straight and unafraid.

The last piece clicked into place on an average morning their seventh year. They sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, steadfastly ignoring the growing number of empty seats around them. Classmates were dropping like flies. The owl post came, with the Daily Prophet and its daily list of the dead. He leaned over her shoulder and they both scanned the list. A thought floated up to the surface, gentle as can be. James, she realized, was the only person she couldn’t bear to lose.

It wasn’t a shot in the dark or a bolt of lightning. It came as easy as an old memory. She wasn’t sure how long, but it had been there for a while. She glanced up from the paper and met his eyes. “I think I might love you,” she said quite simply.

He blinked a moment, taken aback by her statement. Finally, he spoke. “I think I might love you as well.”

It was a quiet confession, not a big declaration or a whirlwind event. They both turned back to the paper in comfortable silence and, when they were finished eating, left the Great Hall hand-in-hand.

Getting Along - Smut

Originally posted by teenwolf-theoriginals

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles/Isaac/Reader threesome
Words: 3,907
AN: This took me forever to write I’m so mad about it but I hope ya’ll enjoy it. Thanks to @writing-obrien for proofreading and @celestial-writing for helping me with plot, as usual.


It wasn’t a secret that Stiles and Isaac weren’t exactly friends. They tolerated each other because of Scott, for the good of the pack. But Stiles thought Isaac was a snob, and Isaac found Stiles to be highly annoying. The only thing they had in common was their affections for you.

Keep reading

Lance is a Boy #1

Keith vaulted over a fallen tree, running as fast as he could through a dense jungle, thanking allura for making paladin armour so aerodynamic. There was a swift movement beside him as a lanky figure pushed ahead “Lance.” Keith hissed and pushed himself a little bit harder.
“Hurry up pretty boy! Or you’re lunch!” Keith’s eyes rolled as Lance cupped his mouth with his hands while running to deliver the sound over to Keith. It was more than unfortunate that in this second of diversion, Lance tripped over a tree root and face planted, letting his body roll with the momentum. Keith pushed his feet into the ground to stop as quickly as possible, he still had to run back a few paces to stop by Lance. The ground absorbed a groan from the blue paladin.
“Lance come on we need to go. Now.” Keith’s voice was urgent and persistent. “Please get up.” Keith’s hands wrapped around Lances bicep and he pulled, making Lance stagger to his feet. A dark red liquid stained his chest and Lance had drawn his hand up to his nose, pulling it away slightly and frowning.
“Ah quiznak.” The only words Lance left behind as they took off running again. Large stomps were suddenly eerily loud and very apparent behind them as they took long strides, staying closer together. It wasn’t long before their calves burned and the boys looked for any kind of checkpoint. Eventually they both dived past a large, off looking tree with high hopes. A long second passed,

then a loud buzzer went off.

“Simulation end!” A calm voice rang through an intercom, Allura. “Very good boys!”

“Really?” Keith’s voice was hopeful.

“Well… no, not really, but better! You both learned this time and took the wise route and ran, a wise altean once said ‘a brave person will fight relentlessly, a wise person will know when to fight another day.’, I’m impressed you chose to flee.” She walked through the door onto the training deck, her voice fading from the intercom. “Lance are you ok?”

“Better now that you’re here my princess” he winked and put his hand on his hip, clicking his tongue seductively, normally this would be as smooth as ever but with one hand pinching a dripping nose bleed, not so much. “Yknow my princess doesn’t really roll off the tongue, how about my everything instead?” It had only been about two days since Coran and Allura were awoken and Lance had flown in blue to the castle of lions, and he was still trying to get with allura, of course, to no avail.

Rolling her eyes, Allura turned to Keith “I’m glad you waited for him, I saw the hesitation in your eyes as he fell, you did the right thing and theoretically saved your friends life.”

“Wait wait wait, mullet hesitated!? Keith!” A swift (but gentle) smack on his shoulder made Keith smile.
“Lance I don’t think there’s a soul in this universe that wouldn’t have.”

Allura put a gentle hand on Lances shoulder “go see coran, get yourself set up in a health pod, he’ll need all of your information and then you’re set, that nose bleed, and whatever other damage, will be dealt with.” She smiled and turned to walk out, Keith following close behind.

Lance walked throughout the castle, his nose pinched and his mind starting to wonder. “Who knew finding an old man in a castle would be so hard…” as if summoned, Coran suddenly dropped from the ceiling and clanged to the floor. “AGH!” Lance jumped into an immediately defensive stance. “Coran?”

Other than looking slightly dirty, coran was intact and smiled warmly at Lance “sorry my boy! Was just cleaning out the vents, 10 000 years worth of dust, someone had to do it”

“There are vents? On a space ship?” Lance looked doubtfully at the orange haired man.

“Well, yes, they can be cut off but with them it keeps the airflow more consistent.” Lance shrugged and explained what had happened, as coran lead them to the room with the pods, they talked more and more about how advanced the ship was and reasoning for a lot of design choices.

“All right, Lance! I’ll need to ask you a couple questions to set up a basic data base and ID for you in a pod so it can optimize heal time.” Lances nose had stopped bleeding but he was pretty sure it was broke so he obliged.

“Fair enough, fire away.”

“Full name?”

“Lance Charles McClain.” He smiled, remembering his dad, Charles McClain, a nice, respectable man, he was named after him. Coran typed away happily, supposedly coding the system with Lances information.

“Height and weight?”

“5 feet and 9 inches, 130 pounds.”

“Sexual activities?”

“Woah Coran at least buy me dinner first.” Lance smirked and Coran tried not to but the corners of his moustache rose a little. “Currently not active.” He said, not ashamed of himself in the slightest.

“Ok last one, this ones easy, biological sex?”

Lance was about to answer but paused, thinking it over for a second, his answer was lower than usual and he looked down.

“female.”

To be continUED…

Through the Years (Part 4)

Summary: Through mysterious circumstances, you find yourself exchanging letters with a man who lived 70 years in the past.

Word Count: 1,459

“Through the Years” Masterlist

A/N: Brace yourselves, guys. It gets crazy now.

Originally posted by almie18


2011

And just like that, you found yourself exchanging letters with a man who lived in the past, whom you had no way of getting to.

Despite everything inside you telling you that you shouldn’t, that the letters would one day stop, that this man was probably not even alive, you continued to write to him, looking forward to each envelope that appeared on your fireplace mantle every other day.

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Petname Babygirl II pt.1

yoongi x reader

genre: smut, dom!yoongi, sugardaddy!yoongi

word count: 7.3k


Sleeping with some random guy was one thing. But realizing that he is your boss was a disaster until he offers you something tempting you cannot reject.

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

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Rotten Judgement - part 1

AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

SummaryHercules!AU After selling your soul to save your lover’s life, you become one of the Lord of the Underworld’s slave. Bucky is obsessed with one thing: collecting hearts. But why?

Word Count:1,674

Warnings: Language, Angst, Slaves, Demonic creatures, Mythology

A/N: I’m blown away by your enthusiasm! Thank you guys, I hope it won’t disappoint. This is loosely based on Hercules, also used a few quotes. The glowing heart thing is from Once Upon A Time.

Rotten Judgement - Masterpage

You hurried along the busy streets of New York City, clutching your bag to your chest. The soft red glow of the beating heart you stole seeped through the small leather bag. Stealing hearts wasn’t something you were proud of, but you didn’t have a choice. You had sold your soul to the devil and agreed to serve him.

You hugged the bag closer as two people walked past you, afraid they might try to steal it. The heart beat steadily against your belly, making you feel nervous. Someone in Brooklyn was unknowingly living without his heart. Looking over your shoulder to make sure that no one was watching, you rounded the corner and entered the alleyway.

Who would have guessed that the passage to the Underworld was in the alley behind a bar? You opened the door hidden behind a trash dumpster and took a step forward, leaving the city and its noises behind.

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Harry Hook - “Flower”

Originally posted by adisneylover92things

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

Request: “Hiii!! I was wondering if you could do one with Harry Hook and maybe Rapunzel’s daughter {she’s my favorite}? I love your blog btw, you’re an amazing writer!!! ❤️❤️”

Pairing: Harry Hook x Reader

Warnings: Blood and slight use of language

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Late, Yet So Sweet. (A Smutty Harry Styles Blurb)

- a quick 30 minute blurb where Harry eats Y/N out at 1 am, hope you enjoy it. xx

The Sun set behind the horizon a few hours ago, but the sky is still baby blue, and the last rays of light are creeping through the blinds, brightening up the dark living room.

Heavy breaths and pants, quiet whimpers and deep moans linger in the open space, as well as the faint sound of the television, which still has on the stupid reality-tv shows, that got left in the left behind a while ago, when Harry nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, started kissing the supple skin, and put his hand down your sweatpants, pressing your clit with his thumb, whimpering:

“Let m’ taste yeh, please. Miss yeh on my tongue.”

With your back slouched against the corner of the sofa, you take a hold of the back of Harry’s head, which is settled right between your thighs, his body rested on his knees on the hardwood floor.

You moan softly, when Harry wraps his lips around your swollen clit, and suckles the sensitive nubbin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. Your toes curl up against the sofa cushions, and your legs tremble slightly when Harry flicks his tongue quickly over your clit, making him smile up to you. Even with his cheeks hollowed, his deep dimples still manage to make an appearance.

Harry can feel his cock twitching in his black Calvin Klein boxers, when you tug at his curls, pushing his mouth closer to your dripping wet core. A low groan escapes his lips, vibrating against you.

Harry’s hands travel up your front, his cold rings dragging against your hot skin, to your breasts and cup them under the thin fabric of your t-shirt, that is crinkled over at the hem, showing off a bit of your skin and your belly button.

The filthy sounds of Harry slurping on you and humming, loving the sweet taste of you, makes you shudder and your eyes flutter shut, and your lips fall into an o-shape.

“So fuckin’ sweet, angel.” his words get muffled by your wet cunt, and make your hips shift, grinding yourself gently against his mouth. 

His other hand starts slowly sliding down on your skin, and settles on your lower tummy, that place he finds perfect to have midday naps on. You place your own hand over his, holding tightly to his tattooed wrist.

“Oh, shit.” you curse under your breath, when you feel the burning sensation in your tummy add up, making you complete mess. You’re panting with shaky legs, your knuckles turning white from gripping too hard, whether to the pillows and blankets, or Harry’s short curls.

You cry out, when Harry pulls himself away from you. With eyes half-lidded and your chest rising up and down in a rapid speed, you look down at him, watching in awe as his eyes sparkle when he locks them with yours, his raspberry lips glistening from your juices, as well as his slightly scruffy chin and jaw. 

“What, why-why did you stop?” you pant out, your hand gripping onto the pillow next to you, but Harry just chuckles at your question. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he answers, now a smirk curved on his lips.

“Let m’ feel yeh cum aroun’ my cock, how does that sound, love?”

LIPSTICK ੭  JUNGKOOK

Contains : drabble, roommate!jungkook, SMUT !  

Group : BTS  

Member : Jungkook/Jeon Jungkook

Words : exactly 1,2k

Summary : Jungkook never thought that a few lipstick stains would turn him on.

Originally posted by jkookisdaddy

A/N : I just wanted to post a little something since I’m pretty inactive because of my finals. Inspired by that time I kissed one of my friends on the cheek to see if my lipstick would tranfer and he got super cocky about the stain.
Feedback or a questions, everything is here !


“Y/N, what are you doing ?”, laughed Jungkook, resting the controller on his thigh.
From his spot on the couch, he was watching you tap your finger on your lower lip, before examinating your fingertip.

“I need to see if my lipstick is going to stay through the night.”, you explained, tapping once again your finger on your lip, your eyes cheking your makeup. You were going out tonight, seeing old friends from highschool, and everything needed to be perfect, you wanted people to look at you and be stunned.
The dress hugging your body was enough to leave your roommate breathless, but you were prouder of your makeup, everything was perfect, if it wasn’t for the said lipstick.

“Is that the one you bought last week ?”, asked Jungkook, leaning against the couch.
You hummed, remembering the day you dragged the boy to Sephora. Fortunately, he didn’t complain, or maybe you just didn’t listen to his desperate sighs, but he helped you pick a color, the dark chocolate, almost purple color catching his eyes.

“Why don’t you just do the thing you do with your hand.”, he asked gesturing to the top of his hand, talking about that time he saw you place your lips on your hand.

“Ugh, I’m too lazy to wash my hand after, or to go get a tussie.”, you sighed, looking at the clock.
Jungkook laughed, getting up and walking towards you before looking at himself in the miroir. Running his hand in his hair, he gave you a faked annoyed look.

“Do it, we’ll see if it leaves a stain.”, proposed Jungkook, tugging at the collar of his shirt, revealing his golden skin a little more.

Smiling at Jungkook, he lightly pushed your shoulder, it wasn’t the first time that he allowed you to test your lipsticks on him and he knew you were dying to test this one too. It just happened one time when you were on a rush, no tissus or anything to place your lips on, and since Jungkook didn’t mind having a stain that he could wash off just after, he was the guinea pig.

Grabbing your roommate’s chin, you quickly kissed a trail from his cheek to his collarbone, as he tilted his head.

“Ouh, that’s a lot.”, you noticed, eyebrows furrowed. A mark of your lips were clearly visible of his cheek, another one in the middle of his neck, and the last one on top of his collarbone, more faded, but it was there.

“I’m definitely taking it with me, I’ll probably have to do some touch ups.”, you mumbled, grabbing the lipstick before throwing it in your purse, not really paying attention as Jungkook stayed silent.

His eyes were glued on the miroir, pupils blowing wide a little bit more as he discovered the stains. Licking his lips, he slowly parted them, feeling his sweatpants grow thighter.

Biting his lower lip, he nodded as he heard you say something, but he never payed attention, a finger coming to touch the stain on his neck.
Why was he so turned on by such a simple thing, was it the stains, or you ? Or both ? His hand was aching to wrap around his growing length, but his line of thoughts got cut by the loud sound of the front door closing.

His breath grew uneven as he looked around the apartment, before quickly walking towards his room, his game still paused on the tv screen.
Not caring to close his door, he left it slightly open, sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the miroir in front of him.
Giving him a full view of his body, Jungkook quickly took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor, as if he was afraid that the lipstick stains would fade away.

With the huge miroir, it was even better, he could clearly see the three marks along his cheek and neck, the last one almost looking like a really dark hickey.
His mouth fell agape at how good the color looked, the brownish stains contrasting with his skin.
His hand went to his bulge, feeling his already hard cock as a few locks of hair fell in front of his eyes.

Lips slightly pink, glittering with a coat of saliva, his hand grabbed his sheet as the other sneaked beneath the fabric of his sweatpants.
A sigh of relief left his lips when he felt his rough hand wrap around his base, teasing himself as he started to slowly move up and down.

His mind was fogged, focused on the ounce of pleasure he was giving himself. Head tilted to the side, he was trying his hardest not to close his eyes, he wanted to see the marks and his skin.

His thumb collected his pre-cum, speading it, a pleased sigh leaving his lips. His movements grew faster, pleasure taking over his body and soon enough, he was pushing the hem of his pants down.
The sound of skin filled the room, alongside his sighs, grewing deeper and deeper.

But, his hand wasted enough, he had to use his imagination, his mind wondering.
He tried his best to remember the feeling of your lips on his skin, picturing them kissing down his torso, and his hand pumped faster as he imagined your mouth around his cock, a groan leaving his lips.

Maybe your lipstick would leave a few rings around his shaft, a deep moan coming from his chest. He never thought that a few marks would turn him on, but there he was, using his hand to catch his climax because of them.

“God.”, he breathed, his hips bucking. A gasp left his lips as he pictured you again, seeing you in that dress, wishing his could take it off, and let his hands wonder around your body.
His lip got caught in his teeth, closing his eyes as he imagined what he would do to you, the taste of arousal linguering on his tongue. And god, he wished you didn’t leave, his hand moving faster and faster, chassing his high.
“Y/N, fuck.”, it left his lips without thinking, the blurry image of your body underneath his clouding his mind, his cheek slightly pink, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and torso.

He lost track of everything as his mind started making up how your moans would sound, how your voice would sound as you were begging him to fuck you, how you voice would crack as you moan his name, getting closer and closer to your climax.

His Adam’s apple bobbed against the skin of his throat, regular gasp leaving his lips as he mumbled incoherent phrases. He knew he was getting closer, bucking his hips, before letting out a loud moan, his voice cracking towards the end in what sounded like your name. Panting, his hand slowed down as he released, cum dripping on his torso.

Jungkook slowly opened his eyes, chest falling up and down at an irregular pace as he tried to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, head falling back, trying to process everything.

“Jungkook ? I forgot my wallet.”

And his eyes shot open.