#i am no longer in excruciating pain

[tache-noire]

i wrote a line in a fic once like "he has never been more acutely aware of his balls slipping around in his trunks until now" and that's all i can think of the past few days with lotion on my bits

[scorndotexe]

jokes that aren't funny unless you're in excruciating pain:

my favorite kind of painkiller, the one that doesn't work

[lilflowerpot]

Hey flowerpot! Just wanted to check in on you and see how your doing. This week has definitely been a little miserable what with a fever and all, and while it sucked, I had a lot of fun going rereading some of your work! Hope your happy and well （╹◡╹）♡

I have every sympathy for you my love; unfortunately, after a solid three years of eluding 'rona,,, she finally got me 😔

Before any of you sweet anxious creatures start to fret, I'm alright! General flu symptoms that very much remind me of when I caught swine flu as a kid (rip) but I'm all up to date on my vaccines so my body seems to be fighting it off well enough!

[laurelwinchester]

at this point my doctor’s ‘’chill’’ demeanor is becoming a fucking problem

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can we have more of domestic Jason but now with him needy of touch? 🥹

the reader got out of bed early to go drink water and he wakes up from a nightmare needing her and he thinks she left him and he starts crying in panic, but then she appears and calm him down with kisses, words of affirmation and lots of love.

Thank u! I love ur writing btw!!

I don’t know if this is what you have in mind, the ending might be a little half-assed but I was half asleep whilst making this 🦦also thank you for enjoying my writing! It really means a lot!

Your side of the bed had barely gone cold which indicated that it hadn’t been long ago that you had left but it was the reason why you’ve left that haunted Jason, who was fresh out of a nightmare and drenched in his own sweat and finding difficulty in calming his uneven breaths.

He had meant to reach out to you for comfort.

Only to be greeted by air just as palm of his hand then hit the lukewarm mattress below.

It was enough to break Jason’s resolve as his innate belief that everyone he ever cared for was destined to leave him- especially you- began to worsen with every passing second the longer Jason allowed himself to be poisoned by the possibilities that you were gone. Disappeared. Or worse yet; taken.

‘Y/n?’ He calls out softly.

‘Baby?’ He tries again, a little louder this time, not having realised that his eyes had started to tear up and blur his vision of his dark room, or that a lump in his throat had started to form, making it difficult for him to swallow down his overwhelming anxiety.

‘Don’t leave me here…please don’t leave me all lone.’ Jason pleads with the darkness of his room as though that would be enough to give you back to him. ‘Haven’t I done that enough?’ He then asks as he clenched the bedsheets between his powerful hands, trying to bound himself to something to combat his discomfort in being left alone with his mind for too long. ‘Being left alone when I was proven too difficult to save? Too far gone to be helped? Am I just that broken to be given just a sliver of happiness?’ He cries out at he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes as he chocked back his own sobs.

Despite building himself a strong body that could endure punishment, the pain of that of an broken heart had been so excruciating it had Jason keeling over in bed, wanting nothing more then to tear it out of his chest as though it burned him; Or was it in fact just phantom pains from a heart that had been hollowed out by the hands of another.

The door to the room opened and golden light flooded in, eradicating the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. ‘Jason?’ Your voice called out and Jason never felt more alive than he did in hearing you say his name in that angelic voice of yours, so much so that he didn’t notice that he had begun to cry harder but out of relief this time. ‘I thought- I thought you left. I couldn’t feel you. I tried reaching for you but you weren’t there.’ He began to say but was cut off when you brought him tightly into your arms.

‘Im sorry that I kept you waiting my beautiful boy.’ You cooed as your fingers reached up to comb through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp now and then to assure him of your presence. Jason didn’t hesitate to bring you into his lap as he buried his head deep into your shoulder, wiping his tears against your sleep shirt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he was holding onto you as though you were bound to disappear once he lets go. ‘Where did you go?’ He asks. ‘I got a little thirsty and so I went to get a drink of water.’ You explained, kissing him anywhere that was made available to you.

‘You’ve been strong for a long, long time and I’ve never been more prouder of you for holding out as long as you have with everything you’ve been through, it never fails to amaze me how resilient you are Jaybirdie.’ You felt his breathing even out as he began to lean back into the bed, still holding onto you. ‘You’re truly an incredible man for being able to stand on your own two feet and still find it within yourself to fight.’ You softly told him as you continued to hold him in your arms as he squeezed your waist in response. ‘I’m so unbelievably lucky to have someone like you in my life and I will do everything in my power to make you believe that.’ You promised him.

‘Even if it’s impossible and might take forever.’ Jason says, starting to feel the lull of sleep as it began to weigh heavily on his eyelids.

You smile softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘Even if it takes an eternity I would still find a way to prove just how beautiful you are.’ You replied, nuzzling into him as his bodily warmth began to ease you into a sense of security. ‘You are the most beautiful man I have ever met Jason Todd.’ You moved to look him in the eyes. ‘A butterfly may not be able to see the colour of their wings but that doesn’t retract the fact that they’re undeniably beautiful.’ You added as you pressed a couple of kissed to his forehead. ‘Now gets some sleep my beautiful boy, I’ll be here when you wake up.’

‘You promise?’ Jason asked, biting back a yawn.

‘I’d be stupid to break a promise I made to you.’ You responded, thinking all was said and done when Jason brought a hand up to your face, showing you his outstretched pinky. ‘Pinky promise me that you’ll be here with me when I wake up.’ He says and you smile softly at the inherent innocence of that of a pinkie promise but still went ahead and linked your pinky with his, pressing a kiss to his calloused and scarred hand with reverence before resting it on his chest. ‘I pinky promise that I’ll be here when you wake up. Was that good?’

‘We’ll see in the morning when I get to wake up to you chipmunk.’ Jason replied, holding you more against his chest and fell asleep but you weren’t complying as you soon followed him into dreamland, your pinkies still linked to one another as a reminder of your promise.

[rippersz]

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰

✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩

✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩

A Larissa Weems x F!Reader four-part mini-fic. Read the first and second parts here: Heat, Heat II; (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Mommy Kink, G!P, All That Jazz)

✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩

“Well… it’s um- hot. Of course.” You started, choosing to look down at your knees in embarrassment. “Like my skin is always… sticky. Sweaty. That’s why my shower is literally constantly drying,” your arm gestured vaguely to the open bathroom door. “It helps but not for long because… b-because… um…” god it was so humiliating, “because I just get like all- I get all-” your hands pinwheeled, catching at the air like moving tires as you sifted through your vocabulary for the perfect word, “I- I get all!- you know-”

“Needy.”

You startled, looking up with wide eyes.

Larissa’s gaze was unexpectedly intense. Dark. Staring into your soul with a depth and weight you couldn’t decipher. The sight of it had you freezing in your spot, blushing as she stared at you unblinkingly. There were cogs turning in the older woman’s head. You wondered about her thoughts before you nodded, feeling the embarrassed heat of your cheeks start to turn into a blaze. Needy… she had called you needy. She looked you in the eye and called you needy. The feeling of the duvet curling around your fingers, pushing into your sweating palms, had you pulling your mind out of the gutter with gusto. The object of your affections (and daydreams) was right in front of you. Fantasizing was off the table. Many things were off the table. Including yourself… which could be on the table if there were a table nearby and Larissa had the nerve to bend you over i-

“Apologies, it was- just the first word that came to mind. Please, continue,” she said suddenly, looking sheepish about her outburst.

You observed her for a moment longer, noting the straight posture and the fidgeting hands and the dark blush on porcelain cheeks. She just wanted to help, you reminded yourself. She just… wanted… to help. So you looked away, unclenched your hands from your duvet, and nodded.

“Right- yeah- that. I get um… that- easily. And it’s- it’s really hard. It gets to a point where it hurts. A lot. And then at that point it’s just- all sense is… gone. Disappeared. I sort of fall into this- this haze… where I feel the um- the need to like get rid of the- the feelings really badly. The… desire.”

Oh. Oh it was… it felt like heaven to finally get it all off of your chest. Like the weight of your situation, the strength of the lust that overtook you, shameful and devious in its nature, was lugged off of your shoulders and thrown onto your bedroom floor. You’d been hiding it for nearly four weeks, knowing it would only get worse. The desire would overtake you at some point, you were certain. And then- well then you weren’t sure what you’d do. Die, maybe? Or pass out? Goodness, how terrible would that be? If you fainted and couldn’t wake up without the assistance of another? Surely, someone would find you eventually, no? Larissa would make sure of it - even if she had to show up herself. Maybe. Probably. The very thought of that had you letting out a sigh; one of mixed relief and exhaustion.

“So,” your boss started gently as she rounded the bed and headed toward the windows. Her pace was slow. “You… get flare-ups, so to speak… and have to ‘cure’ them… by uh- well- let’s say ‘taking care of it’? Am I correct?” You were a bit confused as to why Larissa’s voice sounded so strained- and why she was facing the window and not you- but you eventually decided it was most likely a way of giving you privacy. Rather sweet of her, honestly. It made you feel better as you looked at the bedroom door and nodded.

“Yeah it gets pretty intense. Like.. umm..”

“Painful?”

You hummed out a ‘yes’, figuring that was a good word.

“Excruciating?”

You hummed again.

“Just……. agonizing?” Larissa sounded breathless.

You turned, too focused on the tall figure by the window to notice the way the straps of your nightie slipped down the curves of your shoulders. Larissa looked tense, but you could see the way her body moved with breath - as though she were breathing heavier than normal, but you couldn’t hear anything. In fact, the world was quiet. Weirdly quiet. Like the lingering notes of nothing before it exploded into everything. Or the calm before the storm, as some liked to coin it. You weren’t sure what had changed exactly, but you knew something did. The tone of Larissa’s words… her desire to help, practically shining out of her eyes… did she- no. No, there was no way. You blinked, squinting in the dim light of your bedroom as if that would help you peer into Larissa’s thoughts.

…Just what was going on in that head of hers?

—

Larissa Weems knew exactly what was happening.

She knew exactly what was happening and she knew exactly how to help. Or- how to aid you in what you needed.

What you craved.

Oh you poor thing… her poor thing…

Trembling with restrained lust, nearly bursting at the seams with it. Trying oh so hard to act ‘normal’; to keep up appearances and mask the desire simmering- bubbling- beneath the surface. Waiting for it to boil over. Nervous for the moment in which it would.

Larissa had clocked you even before you opened the door. Her senses were sharp. Her veins swam with blood that sang for you; that smelled your… predicament… and wanted to relieve it. Wanted to get rid of it. Wanted to satiate it.

Wanted to make it all her own. Grasp the situation with both hands. Push you down and take you until your begging ceased and fell into mindless whimpers. Until you couldn’t stand being awake anymore and fell asleep in her lap, plush thighs framing her own, warming her throbbing co-

“Are you… okay? Larissa?” Your sweet little tone rang out, hesitant and questioning. It made blue eyes turn from the window, seeking out the slightly worried expression on your pretty face.

She swallowed as discreetly as she could and worked to unclench her hands from the fists they found themselves balled into. Clearly things were affecting her far more than she realized. It wasn’t really her fault though. No, it wasn’t her fault you smelled… so… so good. Larissa took a deep breath, utilizing it as a sigh when all she wanted was to push her head into the slope of your neck and breathe you in, swallowing your scent like a woman that had gone without water for a week. And it wasn’t her fault, likewise, that you were so… lovely. So beautiful. So perfect opening the door like that, trying to hide the way you were dying inside with desire. If she were a bolder soul that lived without shame, Larissa surely would have stepped up and walked into your room, slammed the door behind her with a click of the lock, and pulled you into the most passionate kiss you’d have ever felt. Oh yes, she would have given into her own instincts and taken control with vigor. She would have slipped her fingers beneath the lacey straps of that nightgown and pulled them further down your arms - slowly, teasingly, just to fuck with you and see how desperate you’d get if she took her time. And her nails, trimmed and painted a deep red, would caress so mindlessly - up and down and around in circles that would lapse over each other so many times they would become uncountable…

But she wasn’t that bold. And she cared far too much about your feelings to act so recklessly. So instead of listening to the hum of warmth that tugged at her soul, Larissa kept her head and clasped her hands politely at her waist.

“Yes, of course. I’m merely- trying to understand,” and she smiled as gently as she could, preening secretly beneath your undivided attention.

—

You hummed, looking your boss up and down once more. There was something up… but it wasn’t your place to ask. If she wanted to leave, she knew very well that she could. If she was uncomfortable, she’d just have to say so and the conversation would end. So whatever was going on… it was not for you to know just yet.

“Okay.” It was a simple response but you mirrored her smile to signal that everything was alright. The topic was strange… the last thing you wanted to do was put her in an uncomfortable position.

Larissa didn’t seem to mind too much though as she stepped away from the window and turned to sit in one of the armchairs in the room’s alcove, working to make herself comfortable. You observed like a captivated audience at the opera, unable to take your eyes off of every move she made. The measured steps of her stockinged feet… the steady sway of her hips and canter of her legs and the almost lazy way her arms fell to her sides… you felt your lust rise again, laughing maniacally from somewhere inside you as it spread from the depths of your abdomen up to your heart. There was an ascending pinkness to your cheeks and heat to your body that you sincerely hoped Larissa couldn’t see.

If she did, she didn’t comment on it and instead gestured with a flippant hand wave for you to continue. Her posture was finally relaxed, you were happy to see. Reclined, one leg crossed over the other, pulling her skirt tight while she pressed her elbow to the arm of the chair and rested her cheek on the hills of her knuckles. If she stayed just like that, contoured beautifully by the dim light of the room as the sun waved her last goodbyes, you were sure even the most esteemed artists would pay good money to catch even a glimpse of the Larissa Weems. Beautiful woman and shapeshifter extraordinaire, looking natural and calm in her willingness to help. God she was stunning…

“Um- yeah I think that may really just be it. The pain gets really bad and I just kind of- need to get rid of it at that moment otherwise I… freak out? I guess? The flare-ups are the worst part though,” you frowned, knowing that the eventual next wave would be worse than the last.

Larissa replied with a hum, looking thoughtful for a moment as her eyes- blazing and dark- traced over your form. You weren’t exactly the prettiest picture, you knew. Hunched over as you were on the edge of the bed, playing with the lace hem of your nightgown and anxiously bouncing your right foot off of the floor without much thought. From her perspective, you probably looked like a strange sick mess. Out of your mind with desire - itching to get rid of the buzz your body felt 24/7.

“...Are you aware of what usually happens during heats?” She paused. “Besides the- lust, of course.”

You nodded. “Um yeah, I think so. Usually, I mean for wolves I know there’s an alpha and omega and they do that whole thing. With the mating and the nests. And then the um- like um- the- the b- b-,” ugh god how embarrassing that you couldn’t even say it- “the br- bree-”

“Breeding?”

Your hands flopped down to the bedspread, fisting into the fabric without thought as a whimper- keening and loud and pathetic- threatened to fall off of your tongue. Your throat bobbed with the willpower it took to swallow the sound.

Breeding, she had said. Breeding. Breeding, breeding, breeding… Bearing children for one’s partner… giving up the body to accept the sacred fruits… oh it- it sounded- it sounded delicious rolling past Larissa’s lips. Breeding… oh just the concept-!

‘Yes…,’ your soul called, ‘meant for it. To breed. To be bred. To take. To take and take and take and take and take. To be good. Take her seed- her children- warm her. All for her. Every part. Meant for Larissa. All Larissa’s. Larissa’s. Meant to be hers. All hers.’

You could feel yourself trembling. Keeping the noises in, locked away, and the heat down, resistant in its simmer, was becoming too much. You swallowed, only to feel that your throat was dry. You sniffed, only to find yourself sniffling instead, trying to calm the sudden pound of your heart. It was in your ears. Your neck. The aching heaven between your legs.

“Oh Y/n, I’m sorry,” you dragged your eyes up to look at Larissa. Her expression was full of remorse. “I didn’t mean to trigger anything.”

You shook your head immediately, working through the grasp of your libido as you could feel it pull at you. None of it was Larissa’s fault. She didn’t know. She didn’t have to apologize. And when you tried telling her that, allowing your quivering lips to part so you could explain, the only sound that came out, rising from the back of your throat, was a sharp whine. It sounded like an instrument note for just a second before you abruptly closed your mouth and swiftly brought your hands up to your face, shielding yourself from embarrassment. If you were in better control of yourself, you would’ve apologized immediately, but the best you could do was shake your head and try to regulate your breathing. In and out… in and out… slowly but surely…

Larissa waited with patience as you collected yourself. She was silent, observant… tense. You couldn’t see the way she leaned forward in her seat, lips parted, heart throbbing within her own chest, mind running wild with thoughts that surrounded you and only you.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of your mouth when you finally managed to come back down to Earth. It was murmured on repeat, without thought. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

The whispers in your psyche were fading but they still threaded themselves through your body, making your blood hum with ardor, signaling that ‘the next wave’ was going to come about soon and you had limited time to prepare. Not that there was much to do from a preparation standpoint. Throwing the nightie off of your body and laying back on the bed was easy. Cracking your knuckles, taking deep breaths, and waiting was a little harder. Like the anticipation that grew within your body, waiting for the switch to click from off to on, would kill you if it didn’t happen soon enough. And maybe it would. Maybe that was something you had to ask Larissa. Yes. Definitely.

So with as much sense as you could muster, you stopped your apologetic rambling and said into your hands, “Will- will this kill me, Larissa?” You preferred not to think about the pathetic crack in your voice. “Cuz it f-fee-feels like it will….”

That was no exaggeration. It did feel terrible. It did feel fatal.

“Oh… darling, no,” came your savior’s soft voice as she stood up from her spot and crouched before you, placing one cool clammy palm on your bare knee. “You’re not going to die, Y/n… You’ll be alright.” And her coo made you shiver as her thumb, most definitely without realizing, drove you to the brink of madness with its slow circles over your sensitive skin.

It was strange, the reaction you had then. As soon as Larissa touched you, as soon as her long fingers clasped your knee gently and caressed the softness found, the whispers went away. Blinked out of existence. Threw themselves into the ether. Your heart still pumped wildly, remnants of what happened, but there was no more anxiety. No more harm. It was as though your soul had just decided to… settle. Nearly unnaturally. Nearly… impossibly. You felt the graze of your eyelashes along your fingers as you blinked and breathed into your palms. Slowly, the burn in your lungs went away. Slowly, the fierceness of your libido was tamed. Laid to an easily awoken rest.

“Y/n, darling…” Larissa’s voice made you sigh in relief. It felt like cool water being poured down the rivets of your spine. “...look at me.”

And she sounded so sweet… so careful… so aware of your predicament… that you couldn’t help but obey. Like a bitch with her master.

You moved your fingers and peered through the spaces between them, not at all surprised to see the concerned line between your boss’s eyebrows. Oh she looked so beautiful even like that… looking at you with a small pout on her face, like she really did feel bad about your situation. Though when your eyes met, the expression melted into something that nearly had you closing your fingers and covering the entirety of your face again. The corners of her lips drew up and her eyes started sparkling and the lines of her face deepened with warmth, happy to see you listening to her and being so good- being so… so….

“There we go,” Larissa cooed, “Hello~” And then she grinned, silly and amused, looking hopeful in her endeavors to calm you down just with her closeness alone.

It worked, thank goodness, and you found yourself rolling your eyes begrudgingly and smiling behind your hands. At least she didn’t think your reaction was embarrassing. At least she understood.

“Thanks,” was all you could think to say as you took your hands away from your face and sniffed. Larissa wasn’t going to judge you, you finally realized. She was just going to roll with the punches - and hopefully help. Her comfort alone was already doing a whole lot. And the nod she gave you, paired with the kind smile on her glorious face, had you relaxing even more. Just another reminder that it would be okay. Only a few more days. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

“Are you alright now?”

“Yeah- yeah I think I’m okay. It just- blegh,” you gestured to your head and sighed.

Larissa chuckled very softly beneath her breath before she tilted her head, blue eyes shining with eternal mirth.

“Blegh?”

You nodded, confident in your words and rosy with humor. “Blegh. Yeah.”

“Well alright then…,” she supposed as she shrugged and stood up, put her hands on her hips, and bent her back to straighten it with a firm groan. “Gods, these old bones…”

That little comment had you giggling as you admired her from your place, tempted to swing your feet as you looked on with appreciation. So beautiful in her casualness… so stunning in her calm demeanor…

“Old bones?” Came your soft exclamation, “You’re not old at all! You’re just- um-...”

Larissa paused while you searched for the proper word, putting an end to her stretching so she could look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Just…?”

A hint of challenge crawled around behind her gaze. It made your hands return to the bedspread, grasping onto the duvet for discreet support. The way she was- she was looking down at you- so tall… so strong… so aware of your little vocal slip-up. Your position wasn’t really helping either… when you removed your focus, trying to look anywhere but at her face with its shifting expression and domineering sort of arrogance, you found yourself at eye level with Larissa’s waist. And her hips. And that soft portion of stomach that one could see through a pencil skirt, with the way it pushed gently against the fabric, all womanly curves and respected existence. Protecting one of the most precious things about her… protecting the sweetness of her womb… the promise of life…

Usually, you wouldn’t focus so much on having children. But evidently, a woman’s heat had no qualms about outwardly desiring a baby. Or two. Or three. As many as it would take to have the emptiness of one's womb filled up entirely. And yours begged for it.

Oh if only… if only Larissa had a cock. The things she could do with it… the pleasure… it had you biting your lip as you stared off into space.

Then a cool hand was placed on your forehead and suddenly you were blinking, looking up at your boss with confusion.

“Um-”

“Hmm,” she cut you off, “no fever.” And then the hand was taken away.

You scoffed, swatting her out of your personal space (mainly for your sanity).

“Yeah duh- I’m not sick,” you spat playfully. “And you’re not old, your skeleton is just- I dunno- speaking to you,” you shrugged, spouting out whatever damned thing came to mind just to distract Larissa and keep her attention from getting stuck on your behavior.

And it seemed to work as she stared down at you, blinked, and then let out a confused little laugh. It was tinged with hilarity - like she was finally unwinding after a long day and could allow herself to break through whatever seams she was stuck in. Principal Weems, you noticed, had become Larissa- in every beautiful and silly way. It was heartwarming to see her place a hand on her chest as she laughed. You wished you could take it into your palms and kiss it. Over and over until she grasped your chin and shoved two fingers into your mou-

“Speaking to me! Ugh- goodness, honestly where do you come up with the things you say?” She giggled as she shook her head.

Your only reply to that was to smile a little wobbly smile, trying with all of your might not to remove your eyes from her beautiful face. One look down and you knew you’d descend into madness again. Your mind would run away from you. Your heart wouldn’t want to chase after it. And your libido would rise from its slumber, grumpy and angry and raw as it faced the tantalizing curve of Larissa’s lower belly. Just the thought of it had you sighing wistfully and looking away, pulling your attention to the windows behind you.

“It’s getting late,” was your quiet observation as you noticed how the sun was nearly gone, only leaving the very last lingerings of her golden rays.

“Ah. So it is,” Larissa agreed, her voice taking on a quiet hush as night fell like a stage’s red curtain.

And with the red curtain came the momentary silence before the audience erupted into cheers.

But there, in the dark of your Nevermore quarters, with the door locked and the rain picking up outside, you figured there would be no applause. And no cheering. And no congratulations and smiling faces afterwards. No, it would just be the quiet of your shared breathing and the steady pound of your heart that you could hear ringing in your ears. The moment felt like a strange reset. Or a lull, perhaps. Not so tense but not so relaxed. You felt your body teetering on the edge of desire. Instead of nipping at you, tugging at your heart and lungs with sharp claws, the symptoms of your heat rose like a wave. Impending. Inescapable. Just waiting to take you under and drown you. Just sitting there, on standby, smiling something evil as its dark ministrations plucked at your nerves. The muscles in your thighs twitched, wanting to move, wanting to push you into motion and make you rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Eager to quench the thirst your instincts craved. Eager to have you writhing around on the bed, grinding against anything you could find.

“Larissa,” your voice fell into a gasp, “you- you have to go. I- I- can’t do this.” It was time. It was time and she had to leave immediately before things became worse.

“Another flare-up?” She questioned gently, worry in her voice.

You nodded and turned to look at her. ‘You gotta go’ was on the tip of your tongue. ‘Unless you wanna stay for this next part you have to g��o…’ but the words died. Perished. Disintegrated as you came to find that she had gotten closer. Much closer. So close you could smell her perfume - gardenia and jasmine. It filled your lungs and made you dizzy; made you grasp onto the hem of her skirt, thumbing the fabric and tugging on it gently - like a lifeline; made you swallow and crane your head, nearly whimpering as you felt your chin graze the plushness of her abdomen. A whimper pushed at your lips, eager to fall into the silence, eager to seal your fate as you stumbled into a gaze of pure deep blazing blue. Dark with passion and desire and something else. Dark with… with… with need? You swallowed.

No. No no no. She wasn’t- she couldn’t be- she- well- you felt your heart stop. Was Larissa….?

“You’re going to be okay,” her voice interrupted, soft and kind as two palms, beautiful and desirable and heavenly, cradled your head. You felt her fingers card through your hair, tender and light.

If you were in a different situation, you were sure you would’ve sunken into the feeling and embraced Larissa’s closeness - but you were rooted in the moment and very much aware of the fact that her expression had changed. She was suddenly very serious, looking down at you with hesitation. Like a push and pull was happening inside of her. You didn’t even realize you had moved your hands from her skirt until they were framing her palms, running over her knuckles, silently telling her that she could speak. That she could be honest. That whatever was spoken about in that room would stay in that room. You were to be trusted. You were different.

And so the cord snapped - and Larissa began speaking.

“Y/n…” she started, voice shaking with breath, “…I need you to listen very closely.” You nodded, your thinking thrown to the wind; hanging onto her every word. When she paused, looked between your eyes, and saw your sincerity, she continued. “I may have an idea as to what’s causing this… but you have to stay with me while I explain. I understand it’s difficult, but you’re strong. Can you do that? For me?” And her blue eyes widened, fixing you with a stern look and a demand.

Yes. Yes yes yesyesyesyes all for you for you for you Larissa yes yes yes. You nodded again, immediately, without a second to lose, and croaked out a gravelly “Yes. Of course.”

Her explanation would be important. Her knowledge would be valuable. Even though your body was quickly warming up, becoming acquainted again with the desire to fuck, you grasped your mind and held it tight. The fingers in your hair were distracting. The closeness of her warm body was distracting. The smell of her perfume was distracting. The little relieved smile on her face was distracting.

But… if you got to see that smile again at the end of her spiel, as sweet and soothing as it was, then holding on until the last second would have been worth it. So you worked against your instincts and sat tight, giving all of your attention to Larissa.

—

Y/n was making it very hard for her to focus.

Very very hard.

So hard that she could barely keep herself in check.

Her pupils were blown, she knew. And her hands were shaking. And her cheeks and chest were flushed and her throat was dry and she really couldn’t help the way she ran her tongue over her lips as she looked down at the sweet thing beneath her.

You were very cute, not even realizing the extent of your own desire. How it showed on the outside. How the clench of your thighs was quick and rushed and desperate. How the bob of your throat and quiver of your lips signaled that you were holding back pretty sounds. How the tendons in your hands flexed when you twisted the duvet into your palms, poorly concealing your slipping self control. It was arousing.

And distressing.

Larissa remembered the first time she had gone through the cycle. She was capable of falling into a heat and a rut considering her genetic makeup. Born a female at birth with the ability to change that if she so wished; at a base level, that made for an interesting time with intimate partners. But on a level more carnal, more animalistic, it was something else. Something entirely different. Something… she didn’t often like to show. It wasn’t everyday that she stumbled upon people who experienced similar things anyway. Werewolves were fascinating creatures and those that could shift into animals had interesting abilities, but Larissa had yet to meet a person who satiated that side of her.

Who… gave themselves up to her. Submitted. And allowed themselves to be owned.

Others often took one look at the headmistress and saw a challenge. But you… oh you… you saw a dream. You saw all of your wishes coming true. And as Larissa watched the depraved little fantasies play out within that brilliant mind of yours, she was brought back to the painful glory of mating season. And just how delicious it was to feel the burn between her thighs and the ache within her core. And just how nice it was to relish in her own touch and embrace her own desire. And just how precious it was to drive her partners mad. Crazy. Insane with lust. Bonkers with ardor. To run them into the ground with need and push them off the precipice of the most wonderful climaxes. It was nearly addicting. It flashed through her mind during the times she wasn’t drowning in her heat. It flashed through her mind in that exact moment.

While looking down at you. While collecting her thoughts. While trying to explain.

Larissa inhaled a shuddery breath and averted her eyes from the tantalizing beautiful twinkle in your gaze. The dark ceiling, she found, was much less distracting. It gave her enough reprieve to begin speaking, allowing her fingers to play with your hair mindlessly as she picked through her words.

—

“Last year, over the summer, I returned to the United Kingdom to visit my brother.” Blue eyes glanced down at you before darting away again. “We stayed in Norfolk, deciding that we both needed a break from Worthing. That’s in West Sussex, it’s-”

“I know,” you interrupted softly, giving her a small smile once she looked down. You’d also gone to Norfolk over the summer. It was just for a week- a vacation of sorts- to get away from the drone of everyday living. It was crazy that you’d both gone during the same summer, but there was no way you’d been visiting at the same time. Right? You were sure you would’ve noticed her. You were sure you would’ve taken the chance to say hi.

After a delayed nod, Larissa continued. “Of course. Well, it was a nice trip for what it’s worth. It was good to see him again. But…” she swallowed, raising her eyebrows, “toward the end of my stay, something happened. Neighbors were complaining about bad water. The taste had changed, the color too. And when authorities found out what it was…” Larissa trailed off, getting lost in thought for just a moment. You watched with interest as the cogs turned in her head - and then blinked when she finally cleared her throat and continued. “..well. Turns out a werewolf died in one of the lakes. It happened near one of the smaller intake structures, the ones that take clean water and make it consumable. By the time authorities found out, it was too late.” She sighed, her chest heaving with breath.

You frowned. The water… that definitely rang a bell. It had been a strange thing at the time; the water tasted vaguely of metal and it sort of burned the back of your throat, prompting you to switch to plastic water bottles. You’d only had a few cups at most before making the change, but still. You’d still… you still had… some. Your eyebrows scrunched together in mixed confusion and surprise as you stared up at Larissa. Before she opened her mouth, you knew what she was going to say.

“I’d already had some of the water…” she paused, taking that moment to massage your head and tilt it back the slightest bit; fingers framing the space beneath your ears and the apples of your cheeks. Her expression was warm. Apologetic. “...And I know you did too.”

—

Larissa let out a little sigh when she saw your face fall. Part of her wanted to strengthen her hold and keep you in place when you began moving away, but she controlled herself and let you go; watching with eyes of pity as you reared away from her hands and put your feet firmly on the floor. When you got up, she took a few paces to the left and went to turn on the lamp on your bedside table - to distract herself and give you space.

“...A Himalayan salt lamp?” Larissa couldn’t help but question once she saw it, letting out a sweet little chuckle as she trailed one finger down the side of the pink-tinged crystal.

She was amused by the sight of it… and quite delighted when the beautiful golden glow lit up a small portion of the room. It was very adorable. It was very ‘you’.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” she heard you say distractedly with the slightest bit of hesitation - as if you were nervous that she was judging you. She wasn’t, of course. She’d never.

And to prove that, Larissa turned to you, a soft look in her eye as she watched you think over her words.

—

It was a lot to take in, but you knew it was coming. There had to be a reason for all of your strife - it couldn’t have just happened. And there it was. A bit strange but apparently true. You drank werewolf’s blood. Without realizing it. That was that. Done and done.

Well - not entirely. You had one question.

“How did you know I had it too?”

Your gazes met. Larissa’s eyebrows raised as she let out a breath.

“Well I… saw you. It was an odd coincidence, at first I thought I was hallucinating,” she let out a little amused scoff, “but no. There you were. Drinking a glass of water at an inn.” The look she gave you then was pointed- as if to say ‘My story is true and I was correct in my assumptions.’

But you knew she was right. You remembered that glass of water - and you remembered cringing at the odd taste. At the time, you finished it because you were parched, but after that you switched to the water bottles. And Larissa had seen you drinking, there at the same time, entirely unaware of the overall predicament and how it would affect you b- oh.

Oh.

Your eyes widened, body tensing with surprise once your mind caught up and everything clicked into place. Larissa’s flushed skin… her odd breathing… her dilated pupils and enraptured, concerned, knowing expression… You looked away from her so quickly you thought your head was going to snap off of your neck.

Larissa… Larissa was in heat. Or- or rut?

Oh god Larissa was in rut-!

“I was unsure of how to tell you earlier… if you are uncomfortable now, just tell me and I’ll g-”

“No. No no no no no,” you whispered, harsh and quick. “I want you, Larissa.” You were facing the wall, unable to look her in the eye as you spoke and cut her off as softly and kindly as you could. “I want- I-” your eyelids fluttered until you closed them and pressed your lips together, letting out a sigh as one of your hands went up to rest against your forehead. It was so hard to say- so hard to admit- but it was obvious what had to happen. It was obvious what you wanted to happen. “I want you… but only- only- if you want me too.” Your words hid the plea you yearned to share. Please. Please want me back. Please want me too. Please do this with me. Please be mine.

And as if stirred by your words, by your realization, your body came alive; thrumming with many strong lightning bolts of want. Of pure want and desire and ardor and admiration and lust. Your mind was running in circles, jumping from one fantasy to another.

Larissa on top of you. You on top of Larissa. Hips bucking and lips grazing and little moans- little muffled whimpers- leaving each of you and ringing like songs. Pretty beautiful songs that left your thighs shaking and fingers twitching and body humming for her. All for her. All for Larissa and her white teeth and red nails and red lips and pink cheeks and oh god- Larissa’s hands on your hips, Larissa moving your body back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, again and again and again against her. Pressing and writhing and coming undone beneath her touch. Bouncing on her lap, her soft velvety thighs; pulling her closer to your face, mouth open and wanting; seeing your legs out of the corners of your eyes as she pushed them up and back, pressed to your chest, so she could sink deeper and deeper and deeper into you-

“Y/n,” the object of your affections softly called from behind you, voice heavy with mixed concern and uncertainty.

An anxious sigh escaped your pursed lips. Of course - you shouldn’t have said anything. Of course - she didn’t want you. Of course - she thought it was odd. As your boss, god as your boss!, she definitely thought you were mad, didn’t she? Yes, terribly mad and terribly horny and just out of your goddamn mind with lust - to the point where you didn’t realize (until it was too late) that you were propositioning your own boss!

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” you began shaking your head, moving your hand down to cover your mouth with a sigh. The heat coiling within your abdomen wasn’t helping in the least; it only served to haunt you as you figured out how best to escort Larissa out of the room without jumping her bones.

She was in- in rut, for gods’ sakes! She was in rut and she was- oh just the thought- of her at night… hand between her thighs… moaning into the pillow… wrapping around her length or sinking into her heaven and thrusting, thrusting, thrusting… You swallowed hard to hold back a sudden moan and blinked rapidly, grasping onto your dwindling sanity and trying to dispel the wandering thoughts. Your heart was a rock concert in your ears. Sweat gathered along your spine.

It seemed, for once and for all, after teetering on the edge of desire for so long! - it seemed that it was finally time. So you spoke quickly and swallowed your embarrassment, shame, and lust for just a moment more. You’d deal with repercussions later - after getting Larissa the hell away from your bedroom.

“I’m sorry I even suggested that. If you don’t want this, just- just go. For your sake and mine I can’t- I can’t- be around you right now.” It was unnatural hearing yourself so panicked and serious, but it was necessary. The situation had become dire. If she thought you were rude, you’d handle that later too.

The sound of stockinged feet padding up behind you had you tensing. Your body felt stiff already. Tired. Hungry. Like you’d spent your entire life in heat and this quick reprieve left you sore and exhausted. The feeling would be gone in a few moments you knew. Soon enough, the pleasurable warmth in your womb, kind and gentle at that moment, would blow up and start screaming and scratching at you - and then you’d have no choice but to turn around and shove Larissa out of the room. But even when you were about to turn, to gently take her hand and lead her away and insist that staying wasn’t worth it and that she could probably find someone else to help her through her rut - someone better, more equipped - you were stopped. By hands. Two elegant feminine hands that gripped your biceps and kept you in place, facing the wall, body rigid and breath dipping into the shallows. Her hold wasn’t tight, but it was enough. It was enough. You felt your legs quiver.

“Y/n,” she spoke slowly, her tone a deep velvety whisper, “I do want this.” Her hands squeezed gently. “But I need to know,” and she stepped forward until your back was pressed to her front, resting against her, soaking in her warmth, “that you’re not just saying it.”

“I’m n-”

“Shush.”

You shushed.

“I know. I know you think you want this, but Y/n heats are… intense, for lack of a better word. They make you say yes to things you may not usually agree to. They make you-” Larissa inhaled sharply before she let out a bone-shaking sigh. The clammy press of her forehead against the top of your head had you blushing. “-they make you regret. And I don’t want you regretting something… I know I will cherish,” she finished in a whisper.

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until you gasped for air, chest heaving with relief. The scent of her- of your boss- elegant and mischievous and everything everything everything- blanketed your lungs like a cold woman’s duvet at night. It was intoxicating. Liberating. The scent of… of-... of your mate?

“I won’t.” You spoke suddenly- sharply- desperate to make her see that you’ve always wanted her and you were sure you always would. “Even if I wasn’t in heat, even if this- this wasn’t happening… I’d still want you Larissa. I’d still say yes, if you asked.” And though you felt the need to hang your head in some strange mix of shame and embarrassment, you didn’t want to displace her resting - so you stayed still. Eyes facing the wall, peering at the wallpaper for all it was worth, allowing yourself to revel in the closeness of her. Finally finally finally - the missing puzzle piece your body longed for. The hymn it yearned to recite and sing and cry.

“You will be the death of me,” Larissa whispered sweetly, quickly, like a prayer, before you were being turned around and pushed.

Your back hit the wall with a thud. Your gaze melted into hers. She looked between your eyes- hurried and desperate. You’d never seen Larissa so close to the edge before. Her chest was rising and falling unsteadily, shakily, and there was a wildness to her expression that felt so terribly deliciously exciting. Her lips were parted, her cheeks were very flushed, her eyelids were fluttering. The only word you could think of to describe Larissa, as you gazed at her and felt yourself melt, was the word need.

“I need you.” It was true. It was perhaps the most truthful thing you’d ever said in your life. You wanted her, yes - but if you had to survive the night, since you finally had her in front of you, then you needed her. Her and her warmth and touch and body and all of the pleasure she could give and give and give.

“I know,” she whispered, leaning closer, pressing your chests together, forcing your gaze up through your lashes. You could feel her through the fabric of her dress and your nightie. The hardened peaks of her nipples, the soft flesh of her body- her midsection- the tops of her thighs. Her head was bowed, her nose nearly grazing your own, her shoulders caging you in. Larissa was staring at you; dark blue depths invading your senses, asking you only one last question and insisting that you answer it. She took a shuddering breath; you watched, enraptured, as her lips moved. “Are you certain? Are you- are you absolutely certain?”

You were. Absolutely.

But you knew that if you said no, if you changed your mind and didn’t want it anymore, she would step back immediately. She would step back and she would nod and she would understand and she would politely excuse herself - hunger and desire be damned. She’d leave you be and probably never mention it again. She’d bid you goodbye with a sweet smile and leave you to your own devices. She would never hurt you. She would never cross that threshold. She would never destroy that line. If you reconsidered, Larissa would understand. No matter what.

“Yes. I’m certain.”

And that’s why you couldn’t let her go.

“I’ve never been so certain in my life.”

You craved her.

Larissa’s eyes darted down to your mouth as you spoke. Lust curled like mist within her eyes. It reached for you. Called for you. It whispered your name and beckoned you closer.

So close… until your lips were pressing against each other, into each other, heads turning and mouths melting. Drowning in bursts of warmth. Interlocking finally. Both of you groaned, filthy and deep and full of breath, chests rumbling with satisfaction as the beasts within roared excitedly. Distantly, you felt clawed hands grab at your waist, wrapping around the thick of your hips, eager to be close. Eager to hold. Eager to own. God her lips were so soft. And full. And talented. Wicked. Devilish. They parted, teased, kept you slow and eager as your hands fumbled for purchase somewhere on Larissa’s body. Eventually, they ran up to her shoulders before draping over her neck and playing with the little baby hairs at the base of her updo. It would be ruined by morning. You couldn’t wait to be the culprit.

Larissa pulled back to glance at you, admiring as though you were the stars. “Open your mouth.”

The part of you that burned for her nearly collapsed, entirely too pleased by the demand to give you any pause as your lips fell open instantly. Then you leaned back in, both of you meeting halfway, acting as one until her tongue licked at your lower lip and dipped into your open mouth, curling in and dancing with your own tongue. The sensation had you whining, heart squeezing with pleasure, throat humming with sound. Larissa’s lips twitched into a smirk, smug and proud as she kissed you breathless. As she ran her hands along your sides. As she bent her knees and tucked her palms beneath your thighs, quick and smooth, before standing tall again. Taking you with her. Lifting you like Hades with his bride. Never letting your mouth leave her warmth for even a second as her muscles flexed beneath her shirt. And whatever surprised little sound you let out was quickly muffled- rectified- by a low moan from your lover’s lungs. Oh, she sounded so beautiful. So happy. So satisfied. And enraptured. And starved. Not even a tremble wracked her body as she leaned forward and kept you pinned to the wall. Pinned and spread. Your legs pressed against her curves, your thighs squeezed her waist, not letting her go even though you knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Even though the way your body fit against hers was something no god could ever experience. It was too good. It felt too right.

And you kissed until your lips tingled, pink and swollen and just as gorgeous as Larissa’s - both of you smeared with the red of her lipstick. The taste of her mouth, red-wined and human, lathered your tongue, making you swallow as you tried committing her to memory. But even as you leaned your head back against the wall, catching your breath, trying to relish in the feeling, Larissa continued her attack and struck gold.

Wanting lips trailed from the side of your mouth to your chin, soft and slow, running down down down until they grazed the sensitive skin of your neck and had your mouth opening with a gasp. She was ravenous but restrained, moving like a hungry snake to strike at your flesh and kiss kiss kiss her way to heaven. The little wet sounds her mouth made had your eyes rolling back, quickly falling into darkness as you closed them and hummed in delight.

“How long have you wanted this?” Larissa’s voice was gravelly, interrupted only by her soft pants. “How long have you wanted me?”

“So long,” was your whimpered response. “So long- so l-long-” there was a crack in your tone when she moved her head and decided to lick a long thick line up the side of your neck, pushing her tongue against your skin with fervor. Like she was trying to eat you. Consume you. Resist the instinct to sink her teeth into your warm flesh.

“Hm,” was the last thing you heard before Larissa removed her mouth and started to loosen her hold on your body.

Panic tugged at you.

“N-no no, what are you doing?” You shook your head, trying to tighten your hold around her. But Larissa had always been stronger and she easily let you slip away and forced your feet to touch the ground. “No no no-”

“Shh,” she murmured, running her hands up to your face. “Do as I say and get on the bed for me. Yes?”

You swallowed, resisting the urge to smile as your heart did somersaults within your chest. Yes! It’s happening! Yes yes yes finally! This is it this is it! Yes yes!

“Yes. Sure,” you nodded into her hold, blushing hard when her palms tightened around your cheeks.

There was a sudden sharp edge to her eyes as her brows set, falling to shadow her gaze.

“Yes, who?”

Yes… who? You frowned.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Yes. Who.” Larissa repeated herself, leaning down until the tip of her nose brushed yours. Her hands moved, one shifting down to tug at your waist, to bring you even closer, while the other wrapped around your chin and tightened. “Think, darling. I know you have a brain in there somewhere,” she whispered, sounding like velvet and feeling like heaven.

She was right, naturally. You did have a brain. It was half mush due to her attention, but it was still somewhat there. You took a moment to search through it. Yes who yes who yes who yes who yes- who-

“Yes, a-alpha?” Came your little squeak. It didn’t sound quite right but if she wanted to be technical about it, and if she liked that, then that was what she was.

A warm twinkling laugh met your ears. It was soft and amused, leading you to smile in reply as you admired the way Larissa’s eyes squinted with mirth. Clearly you’d gotten it wrong.

“Cute,” she nodded, “but not the one I’m looking for, sweet girl. Try again for me.”

Right. Try again. Okay. You bit your lip, growing antsy in your waiting.

“Um- Yes… Mistress?” It was a shot in the dark - and you missed.

Larissa tsked, her breath huffing against the curve of your lips as you watched her raise an eyebrow. She felt so good… so warm… you swallowed, eyes darting down to watch her lick at her lower lip.

“No, darling… Do I really need to coax it out of you?”

Then her tone changed- flipped like a tossed coin; it became high and taunting and coy as she moved her head and pressed her lips to your ear.

“Or are we both going to pretend that you don’t want to call me Mommy?”

It was said so sweetly- so slowly- that you thought you may be hallucinating. When you go to move your head back, to look into her eyes properly, the hand on your chin wraps around your throat and presses. It’s not hard, not by any means. Just the slightest pressure - barely there. A silent claim. Ownership. And Larissa doesn’t stop.

“Hm? Is that what we’re going to do sweetheart?” The hand on your hip moved down to squeeze your ass; the bite of her nails through your slip, digging into your skin, made your thighs clench- desperately trying to provide friction for an ache you had yet to take care of. “Are we going to ignore your desire for Mommy instead of Mistress?” There was a pause as she pressed a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “Unless you want to call me Alpha-”

“No,” you gasped, quiet and quick. Alpha was not her title. She wasn’t a dog. And she wasn’t a ruthless violent angry horny authoritative creature.

She was Larissa.

She was..

She was -

“No.. Mommy.”

The noise that rumbled up from her chest made your skin run hot. It was full of deep pleasure. Like the bits of wolf that ran through her blood were very happy with your submission. So happy, in fact, that she pulled back to give you a large toothy grin.

“That’s my girl.” Came her chimed praise as the hand around your throat slid away and her fingertips went to caress the side of your face. “So obedient for me… so good…”

Yes yes yes so good always so good always hers always need her- need to be kissed by her- fucked by her- dominated by her- always-!

Your hands landed on her shoulders before you could blink, instantly going to push- push push push until she’s backing up. Spurred on only by your deep desire to see her on the bed, spread out, panting, just as wanting and desperate as you. But you don’t get very far. Maybe one or two steps backward, making you think you’d actually be able to bend her slightly to your will - but then there are strong tapered fingers wrapping around your wrists and tugging them off of her shoulders.

“Ah ah ah,” Larissa admonished, shaking her head and looking deep into your eyes. “I don’t remember you being the Mommy.” She was smug, so smug, as she turned you both around and began walking forward.

You nearly stumbled over your own feet in your haste to back up toward the bed.

“I can be the Mommy,” you grumbled, shooting her a playful glare.

It was a lie, of course. You were a strong soul, but rarely one to take full control of a sexual moment. If it was something less… kinky… then you could certainly provide pleasure; but in that moment, with every inch of your libido working against you- forcing you to desire the floor beneath your knees and the thick of Larissa’s cock in your mouth- well. That was different.

“Oh can you?” A light eyebrow rose, ticking up at the exact moment that the backs of your legs hit the side of the bed and went buckling beneath the sudden feeling.

Your hands reached up to go for her shoulders, but the iron grip around your wrists kept you suspended. Then her hands were gone, in the blink of an eye, and you were released - and Larissa watched, with a flicker of sadistic delight, as you let out a small hiccuping gasp and fell backwards onto the mattress. When you looked up at her, an unserious glare in your eyes, you felt your heart skip several beats. Back again were you in that position… with her hips so close… and her body towering… and her carmine lips curled into an evil smirk.

“You were saying, love?” God she sounded so good… So soft and perfect, with her strong accent and delicate words and good lord- you couldn’t stop staring!

The only thing standing between you and the heaven between her legs were only about three pieces of cloth that could easily be torn in half- right off of your bodies- thrown to the floor. Your hungry gaze traced the curve of her thighs- from the soft dips of her skirt’s drape, to the plush spot in which those long gorgeous legs pressed together… leading right up to…

Your fingers twitched.

Please… please let me feel… please I want- want so bad- want to- have- lick- need-

“Y/n.” You looked up. Larissa tilted her head.

“Yes?” God you sounded so hoarse-

“Yes…?” Her nostrils flared.

Oh. Right.

Warmth shot through your heart.

“Yes, Mommy?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, taking a moment to run her gaze over your face- your body- your soul. “...Tell me what you want.”

You blinked.

“What?” There’s no time for that! I need you and I need you now!

“I said,” two large palms slid into your hair, cupped the back of your head, and pulled you closer, “tell me what you want.”

She smelled so perfect. All floral-y and jasmine-y and precious and when your face was lightly pressed to the fabric of her skirt, you couldn’t help but take a deep breath and close your eyes. If heaven existed, it was most certainly between Larissa Weems’ thighs - both under her skirt and above it. Your arms, meanwhile, wrapped around the backs of her legs and curled under the skin beneath her knees, keeping her steady as she held you there. Not with enough pressure that you couldn’t breathe, but with all the intent to make you flushed. To have you panting. Thinking. Wanting.

Wanting so much… desiring so much… needing her- needing all of it- everything she’d give you-

“A-anything,” you stuttered, pulling your head back into her hold. Mmm her palms were so warm- so soft-

“Anything?” There was a gentle blush on the apples of Larissa’s cheeks - magnified only by the vague glow of your lamp. She outshined the sun, then. By far more glorious than any beautiful phenomena at dawn or dusk…

“Mhm,” you nodded, “anything.”

A bit of her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth, tucked under her teeth, bitten hard by a woman who clearly had things on her mind. Seeing you there, looking up at her as though she placed the very moon into the sky… oh she wanted to see you ruined. She wanted to see you owned. She wanted to see you begging, pleading, needing her, barely able to breathe without her in you- taking her- wanting her- calling her name- calling Mommy- Mommy-!

Falling prey to your body again, your gaze drifted back to Larissa’s waist- taking in the curves and the feminine beauty- imagining your hands gripping her hips, her thighs, her ass, pulling her closer; looking lower still to rest on- on- o- on… on…. oh… was- was that-

A bulge. Beneath her skirt. Straining against the material, held back by her waistband and her panties. Obviously hard and obviously- so obviously- big.

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Wow Ripley, way to drop this out of nowhere and end on such a vulgar note oooo.

Anyway, there will be a part IV (4). At some point. Don’t hold your breath. I love you. - Rip x

(Tell me if it’s good cuz I’ve never written smut before and I know we’re not even there yet.)

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Tag list: @weemssapphic @eveymay @enchantressb @machi-avelli @kimiinou @fyrecatz @i-wanna-be-a-deer @gwendolinechristieiscute @maviscreates @im-a-carnivorous-plant @readingtheentrails @queercodex @a-queen-and-her-throne

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[frost-queen]

The moment I knew // part 10 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

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Summary: A confession has been made. Will you take the offer and finally live your happily ever after? | final chapter [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9]

It means I love you.

Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest. Overpowering your thoughts as you couldn’t think anymore. You weren’t sure how you were looking at him. In shock? Panicking? Glowing? Flustered? Gawking? Seemingly frozen in time as you couldn’t move. – “Miss Y/n.” – Tewkesbury said taking your hand as it startled you awake. – “I cannot bear it any longer.” – he started joining his other hand on yours.

“Every moment apart from you, is excruciating. A pain I no longer wish to bear. I have been a fool, toying around but I am done playing. I am done with my boy-ish attitude.” – he confessed as you curled up a flustered smile. Feeling a bit sheepishly, looking around if anyone was taking noticed of it as well. His hands on yours. A scandalous act in public. Behind him you saw the dancers performing graceful sequences. A dance of tug and war. Pulling and pushing. Nearing and distancing the attraction.

Tewkesbury cleared his throat, bouncing on his feet nervously. – “Miss Y/n… I have a question I have been meaning to ask ever since I became serious about you.” – he started pouring his heart out. You chuckled softly. – “As long as it isn’t a proposal.” – you teased jokingly. You kept chuckling till you noticed Tewkesbury looking saddened back at you. Making it clear in his eyes, it was in fact like that.

You stopped chuckling becoming aware of it. – “Dear lord is it?” – you let out with wide eyes. Tewkesbury looked away with a shy smile. – “Well I am not going to say it now.” – he answered. – “The moment’s ruined miss Y/n.” – he scratched his hair looking nervously away. You pulled your hands back, up to your mouth as you gasped loud. – “Is it a proposal?” – you asked lowering your hands.

“It is isn’t it?” – you called out making Tewkesbury chuckle a bit at your innocence. – “The moment’s gone miss Y/n.” – Tewkesbury said taking a small step back, looking at the ground. – “No!” – you blurted out, startling Tewkesbury. – “No, no, no, no wait!” – you shouted desperately with your hands. – “Wait.” – you spoke making Tewkesbury supress a laugh at how hard you were trying to fix this.

You turned around, taking a few paces away from him. – “Begin once more.” – you called out. – “Miss Y/n I am not…” – he began as you cut him off. – “Begin once more!” – shouting at him as you turned back to him. – “Miss Y/n I’m not just going to begin again.” – he answered feeling a bit foolish. – “You simply take my hands again, you say that you have a question to ask me and I keep my foolish mouth shut!” – you let out making Tewkesbury laugh. – “Please..” – you begged.

“Miss Y/n I…” – Tewkesbury started to laugh again, knowing how silly this was. Too played out and orchestrated. – “Fine!” – you said loudly with determination. – “Then I shall ask you a question.”  - you continued approaching him. – “My lord…” – you said looking down at his hands. Reaching for it, you took it. – “I’ve been a girl with her heads in the clouds, but you kept me grounded. My heart only yearns for you. It is yours to have and hold. I love you Tewkesbury. Will you make me your wife?” – you asked with a sweet smile.

Tewkesbury’s eyes widened. – “You love me too?” – he replied needing to be sure his hearing wasn’t deceiving him. You shyly nodded, twirling your hips a bit around. Tewkesbury’s eyes lit up, smiling purely out of excitement at you. He threw his arms around you, hugging you tight. – “You’ll marry me.” – he told you, squeezing you tighter in his embrace. He then pulled away, taking your hands, to leave a kiss on your knuckles.

Flustered you waved yourself some cool. Suddenly it felt so real till your eyes widened. – “Dear lord my brothers.” – you gasped out. Tewkesbury laughing at that. – “You fear they might skin me alive for proposing?” – he joked out. Seeing the nervous chuckle from you made him gulp. – “I’m sure it will be alright.” – you patted him on the hand, hoping you were right.

“That didn’t sound reassuring.” – Tewkesbury yelped out, breaking out a sweat. He could already imagine your brothers or the Duke stabbing him for proposing to their beloved sister or in law. Tewkesbury felt a fantom stab in this stomach making him winch. – “They aren’t that bad. It should be I who needs to be terrified of your grandmama. Her look alone will turn me to stone.” – you said with a shiver.

Tewkesbury and you shared a look before bursting out in laughter. Tewkesbury offered you his arm. – “Shall we?” – he asked as you accepted his arm. – “We shall, soon to be husband.” – you teased him. Tewkesbury placed his hand against his chest, gasping dramatically at how adorable he found that.

Tewkesbury removed your hand from his arm, holding it in his hand instead as you had found your way back inside. It wasn’t that hard to spot your siblings. He tugged gently on you, pulling you along with him towards them. Anthony and Benedict were in a deep conversation. Francesca beside them with a drink in her hand. She was the first one to notice you. – “I think we’ve found our lost sheep.” – she said with a smile. It made your brothers turn their heads at you. Benedict’s gaze went down, seeing your hand in Tewkesbury’s.

“He’s holding her hand.” – he said sweaty. – “What?” – Anthony replied looking as well. – “They are holding hands.” – Benedict blurted out stunned. Francesca clapped proudly as you neared. – “Sister!” – Anthony hissed out grabbing you by the shoulder. Benedict grabbed Francesca’s drink needing to cool himself. – “I warned you from the beginning it would be my soul purpose to marry him.” – you told your brother.

“What are you talking about?” – Anthony blinked overwhelmed with many emotions. You smiled, patting your brother against his cheek. – “You…” – Anthony said baffled, then looking at Tewkesbury with a point. – “You.” – he repeated as Tewkesbury nodded his head just a tat too amusingly. Benedict nearly fainted as Francesca had to grab him.

Anthony shoved you a bit aside to get to Tewkesbury. – “You asked my sister to marry her without consulting us first!” – Antony called out trying to keep his temper down. – “Actually my lord, she asked me.” – Tewkesbury answered giving Benedict another heart attack. He had just recovered as his knees became weak again. Francesca tried to hold him up right, fanning him. Anthony turned to you as you gave him one of your innocently sweet smiles.

He pointed fiercely at you, trying so hard to be angry at you, but that smile you flashed at him was doing it’s work. – “I’m proud of you sister.” – Francesca said. You curtsied to her. – “Don’t encourage this.” – Anthony said rubbing his forehead feeling it had become sweaty. Mama and Colin returned. – “What happened to him?” – Colin asked gesturing at Benedict. – “My little sister…” – Benedict sobbed out. It made Anthony roll his eyes dramatically at him. – “Oh please, pull yourself together.” – he said between a clenched jaw, pulling him up straight. Dusting his vest a bit off.

“Y/n and Tewkesbury are engaged.” – Francesca informed Colin and mama. – “What?” – Colin shouted a tat too loud, drawing the attention of almost the entire ton. Seeing everyone was focused on him, he cleared his throat. – “Carry on.” – he said waving them away.

The ton proceeded to do what they had been doing before, paying no attention anymore to them. – “What?” – Colin repeated in a lower tone, closer to you. – “Well this is a surprise.” – mama said touching her stomach nervously. – “Do not worry mama, I’ll have him ask me again properly.” – you assured her with a wink. – “Well he better.” – mama answered waving her handkerchief playfully at him. Tewkesbury excused himself with you from your family.

“Where are we going?” – you asked curious. Tewkesbury chuckled nervously as your eyes fell upon his grandmother sitting at a table. – “Dear lord no!” – you blurted out, pulling hard at his arm, coming to a stop. – “It will be alright.” – Tewkesbury reassure you. – “She’ll eat me alive.” – you told him, not wanting to be introduced as his soon to be wife now. – “She already ate diner Y/n.” – he joked. – “This isn’t funny.” – you gave him a slap against his shoulder.

“You want to throw a scandal at the ton?” – you whispered to him anxiously. He placed his hands on your shoulder. – “It will be alright, she won’t cause a scene in public. It is bad for her reputation.” – he responded with a warm smile. Taking a deep breath, you weren’t sure about this, but you couldn’t avoid her forever.

Tewkesbury took your hand, placing it on his arm as he guided you towards her. He cleared his throat near her. – “Tewkesbury?” – his grandmother said looking questionable at him. She then gave you a glare as it made you gulp soft. – “Grandmother.” – he started placing his hand on yours on his arm. – “You’ve met miss Y/n Bridgerton before.” – he went on with shaking legs. – “Yes, the girl you’ve stolen her dance card.” – she recalled making Tewkesbury chuckle nervously.

You gave Tewkesbury a little nudge for encouragement. – “Yes, well.” – he began trying to find a way out of his words. – “Well out with it boy!” – she called out impatient at the lack of information he was giving her. – “I am to marry her.” – he popped out. – “What?” – his grandmother spoke setting her hands on the table as she was about to rise from her seat. Tewkesbury took a save step back, not sure what she would to next.

His grandmother than laughed loud. – “I am to marry her!” – Tewkesbury repeated more confident now. – “Laugh all you want, there is nothing you can do about it. I will marry her. The estate will be mine, so be mindful I don’t see you out grandmama.” – Tewkesbury spoke with seriousness. His grandmother stopped laughing. – “You wouldn’t…” – she replied.

“Watch me.” – he answered as you took a hold of his upper arm. A calm gesture to him to not loose himself in emotions. His grandmother stood up straight. – “How dare you threaten me like that. If it wasn’t for me you’d be a waste. Was it not I who had picked you up after the death of your parents!” – she called out. You could tell Tewkesbury was getting emotional. – “That is enough!” – you made clear silencing her.

“You will always have a home with us if you wish, but you do not disrespect the Viscount!” – your words made her swallow loud. You curtsied at her, not wanting to lose any more words to her. You pulled Tewkesbury with you away from his grandmother. You brought him to a secluded area rubbing your hand up his arm. – “Are you alright?” – you asked. – “I am now.” – he responded leaving a kiss against your cheek.

His touch flustered you, sweeping you up in the moment. You jumped at him, throwing your arms around him as you pressed your lips against his. Your feet found ground again as your lips retracted from his. – “Miss Y/n what a scandal.” – Tewkesbury teased goofily with a blush on his cheeks. – “Good thing I already am to marry you.” – you responded. Tewkesbury grabbed you to kiss you again.

Tewkesbury had proposed properly at your house. Sending a wave of emotions over your family once again. Benedict crying for he didn’t want to loose his younger sister yet. You reassured him you would always be close, visiting the house every day. Tewkesbury and you married by the end of the season. You moved into the estate with him.

His grandmother having settled in the manor up on the country side. It seemed your little counter response tasted bitter in her mouth. She didn’t like getting stepped on her toes. You send word to the girls you knew from your year away. Enlisting them as you had promised. Giving them a good house and a good household to work for. Your siblings would visit almost every day with the smallest thing wanting to share or just spend time with you for they couldn’t stay away. The dream of becoming a princess died out. For what is a princess, when one has a Viscount as Tewkesbury.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! 

[fanaticsnail]

Kind And Gentle

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,100+

Synopsis: Your shoulders and back ached with a pain you had attempted to cast aside as you went about your duties. The ache turned excruciating, your focus now being taken hostage between the gripping pain. Fortunately, the grip of two firm hands found your body and eased you through the torment.

Themes: Benn Beckman x reader, Friends to lovers, confessions of love, suggestive dialogue, massaging - reader receiving, pain, aching, yearning, small kiss, Shanks is a meanie, swearing, teasing, Beckman is a softie, Beckman is a gentleman, term of endearment "Darlin'" used - it's just what I associate him saying.

Notes: Pure self-indulgence fic, procrastinating while I should be going through my WIPs. My shoulder hurts, guys. Needed this to get out of my system and get through the pain. Art link.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @mfreedomstuff @missbeckman @tiredemomama

Pain. White and hot, swelling and encumbering. This was what you were experiencing in the middle of your spine; just a little to the right side of your body.

The ache never eased, no matter what position you slept in, nor adjusting your posture throughout the day. It was unending, the torment which knit your muscles together and cemented them in place. 

You clenched your eyes tightly shut, bracing yourself against the wooden hallway wall as you rotate your neck in a circle atop your shoulders slowly. Arching your back, you winced as the knot continued to integrate itself in a woven entanglement of painful muscle beneath your skin. 

Biting back a whimper, you tried as you might to reach the cursed divot beneath your flesh, whining quietly as your fingertips barely brushed against the surface of the painful coil. The ache called to you, the burden causing a small tremor in your lips from the electric heat of the hidden wound. 

Shaking your head, you huffed out a breath as you attempted to soldier on about your daily chores. Ignoring the tight ache beneath your skin with a deep grimace written on your lips, you finally gave into your pain and balanced your hands against the wooden beam atop the deck of the Red-Force. 

The sea breeze hit your nose, relaxing you briefly before the pain eclipsed all your senses. Brain foggy with anguish, lips parted and panting, eyes frantic and wife: you could bear it no longer. You muted a cry, muffling it within your mouth while you tried to release the elastic coil in your back by twisting your torso. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you curse in a soft whisper, your brows rising in a pain-riddled peak in your forehead. You moaned out in a soft whimper, praying nobody could hear your weakness as you tried to reach for the spot a second time.

The band was bordering on excruciating, your mind contemplating whether or not to seek out Hongo for medical attention due to the intensity of the pain. Just as you began to turn on your way, two strong hands clapped over your shoulders: thumbs moving in rough circles against your skin. 

“I got you, Darlin’,” the gruff voice Shanks’ first mate whispered in a calming rumble, “Just tell me when I'm gettin’ close to it.” 

Benn Beckman. It was always Benn Beckman. Any time any of the crew needed anything, no task too small, no feat too great: Beckman was the champion you had all grown accustomed to rely on. Leaning back into his touch, you hung your neck low to grant him greater access

“Oh-... mmmf-... -‘kay,'' you whimpered, curving your back down to expose more of your spine to him, “It's not-... Hhah-... It's not normally this-...fucking, shit-... -this bad.” A small click of his tongue snapped at you in empathy as his thumbs brushed against the coil of pain. 

Although your friendship with Beckman ran deep, you had never engaged with him physically before. You respected one another, adored one another, and were as close as two crewmates could be. Two sides of a coin, twin edges of a blade, the gunpowder and the spark that lit the fuse - this was how you were described by your red-headed captain. 

But as his thumbs sought out your deepest pain, all your thoughts escaped you. There was nothing else, just: Beckman, his focus and his expert touch. 

“Just a touch to the right-... ahh, Becks!” you cried out as his digits flicked over the painful swell beneath your flesh. Huffing out pants of breath, you sobbed in strained relief as he continued massaging your body. 

“Oh, fuck. It's there, isn't it?” he whispered, the thumb of his right hand pressed firmly against the tight knot as his left hand braced you against the side-beam of the boat, “There it is, Darlin’. I found it. There's the spot.” You arched your back within his broad hands, your arms stiffening in firm pillars against the deck as he prodded the painful peak in your back. 

“Oh, that's it! Right there, that's the spot,” you mewled out, crying and gasping for him as he untangled your muscles with his rough, practiced hands. Just as he pressed his strength further against you, you winced out a strangled, “Fuck, not so rough! Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!” 

“Darlin’, this is me being kind and gentle,” he bullied his thumb into your skin, stapling you to the wall of the ship by his hips and holding you steady with his hand perched on your left shoulder, “You need a bit of rough treatment. Hold still, let me coax it out of you.”

“Becks,” you whispered out his name, lulling your head back on your shoulders as he continued to pry, paw and claw the knot apart with his right hand, “Becks it hurts.”

“I know, I know,” his gruff voice reassured you, the gentle hold of his left hand against your shoulder contradicted the right hand that bruised your muscles, “It'll all be over soon. I'm nearly there, I can feel your body moving it with me. Just hold on.”

His thumb pressed an intentional swipe up, directing the pain up your back and into the peaked corner of your shoulder. His brows knit low in deep concentration, prompting him to suck in an empathetic breath in anticipation. 

“Ohh… You're gonna hate me,” he whispered in your ear, kicking your feet apart with his heavy boots before anchoring his pelvis against your glutes to hold you firmer against the ship's wooden railing, “You need an elbow.”

“No, no, no! Not an elbow!” you cried, just as his right elbow drew itself against your spongy flesh, “Becks! It's-... nnmfph-... too much! Ahh! Too much!”

Attempting to break from his grip, you shook yourself away from his hands, only for your body to immediately betray you. Bent over the railing, your back immediately became unraveled by a firm grip and a strong elbow to the point that ailed you. 

“Oh hush, you need it,” he barked in a soft tone, eclipsing your concern with an intentional rotation of his elbow against your shoulder, “Be a good little thing and take it.” He was moving the vines of the entanglement away from the source point, breaking it down beneath his body and flushing it out with heavy swipes. 

Benn Beckman was experiencing the toughest battle he had ever had the displeasure in engaging with. He was trying to tune out how good you sounded calling out his name in pants and whines, his own empathetic huffs and groans mixing harmoniously with yours as he gripped your flesh.

“Benn Beck-...fuck-... It's right there. Right there, Becks! Don't stop!” you whimpered, your voice high and your desperation showcased in the soft pants of your breath. The release of your entangled flesh was just within Beckman's grasp, prompting him to switch back to using his fingers to expel the pressure beneath your skin. 

“I got you. There ya’ go,” he confirmed again, expanding the heel of his palm against the binding presence of the last of the entanglement, “Breathe through it with me, I'm not gonna stop ‘til you're done.” 

“Oh, fuck Beckman,” your eyes glazed over, your lips parting and crying out in bliss as his skillful ministrations cast out the pressure in your shoulder as a priest would cleanse unholy ground to make their sanctuary.

“Th-That’s it. Oh m-my fuck-,” you whined back into his hands, “You're so good. Your hands feel so good.” As the last of the knot fled your shoulder, a warm chuckle rumbled from behind you. Beckman's laugh brought you comfort, his softness depicted in this small moment as he held you in his arms. 

His firm hands turned soft, caressing your shoulders in tender, gentle touches. He molded both of your shoulders within his palms, your body becoming jelly beneath his rough and calloused hands. You moaned softly as he maneuvered your body in a perfect arch against his chest, the rumble of his chuckle reverberating within your back to vibrate within your chest. 

“Better?” he whispered in the shell of your ear, easing his body back to enable you to escape his broad cage. Instead of breaking away from his body, you relaxed into his arms, sighing out a warm breath of contentment. 

“Thank you, Becks. You're bloody amazing at that,” you praised him, feeling light and free of the bonds that confined you, “Why did you offer to help me with it?” 

“There was something in your face that told me you needed it,” he shrugged, huffing a small chuckle out of his nose and leant down to rumble out a whisper in your ear, “Always wanna help you, Darlin’.”

“Oh Becks, I could kiss you,” you turned in his arms, gazing through half-hooded eyelids up at him, “Can I?”

He smirked down at you, a small pink due flushing his cheeks with a subtle dust, bobbing his head in a soft nod to grant you permission. As you circled your arms over his neck and began to draw him closer to your lips, a chorus of barked laughter and an uproar of cheers echoed along the hull of the ship. Clapping hands, whistles and hoots erupted from your crew now surrounding the two of you. 

“Oh, Beckman,” your captain cackled at you, his right hand clapping over his heart, “In public, big guy? And you,” he pointed his index finger at you, his wolfy grin painted in a drawn-out taunting smirk, “You sly little fox. Gettin’ the big man to take you right on the deck?”

“What?” you questioned your captain in a warning tone, floating your eyes between the rest of the crew gathered on the deck beside him. Shanks’ playful twinkle fluttered beneath his weighty eyelashes. 

“Be gentle with me, Becks,” he mocked in a needy moan not too dissimilar from your own, before hardening his features and deepening his voice in a grunted, “You need a bit of rough treatment,” he commented gruffly. The color drained from your face, eyes widening and lips parting once again in bashful horrification. 

“Oh right there, Becks, don't stop,” Shanks continued his performance, a small warning began to rise within Beckman's throat in a rumbled growl. Breaking out of your embrace, he grimaced at the red-head in front of him. 

“Enough, Cap’n,” Beckman snarled, reaching within his pocket and pulling out his lighter with his left hand, fishing out a cigarette to follow, “Got out a knot, s’all. You know how shit they are.” Beckman ignited the end, taking a lengthy drag and exhaling a puff away from your face. 

“Really? That's all?” Shanks cried out a laugh, the crew echoing his unashamed and carefree joy at the notion, “I thought I saw some hips moving together, Becks. You were letting some of your own groans out too, mewling like a wh-.”

“-Or should I relay half of the bullshit you curse out when Hongo releases the knots in your own shoulder?” Beckman smirked, his eyes daring his captain to say another embarrassing quip. After a pregnant pause, silent tension only momentary before another uproar of laughter barked out amongst the Red-Hair pirates. 

“Yeah, yeah. I'm done,” Shanks waved his hand in the air, shooting you a small wink before turning to face his crew, “What say we make port, huh? Resupply with some fresh drinks, a hot meal, some good company, and a comfortable sleep on dry land?”

“Aye, sir!” the crew echoed in unison, your own confirmation falling from your lips as you began maneuvering around the first-mate to resume your duties. Just as you passed Beckman's shoulder, a firm hand shot out and gripped your forearm to hold you in place. 

“Beckman?” you asked, turning to meet his eyes. You floated your own between his, hovering your attention to fixate on him completely, “Everything alright, Sir?” 

“Goin’ back to ‘Sir’ again, after all that,” he murmured, barely above comprehension. Your quizzical feeling never left you, still hovering between the lenses of his glassy orbs. 

“How you feeling?” he asked as he pressed down the filter end of the cigarette beneath the pad of his thumb, placing the butt-end in the small drawer attached to the hull of the ship, “I get it all out, or the ache still hangin’ in there?”

Humming in thought, you rotated your right arm and felt the ghost of your prior pain simmer down and flee from your form. The small pinch only remained behind in memory, but the small remnants of the ache threatened to return. 

“It's gone for now, I think,” you uttered with a small shrug, “It'll likely begin the slow journey back up my spine in a pinch.” Beckman hummed in thought, nodding along as he checked over your body for any changes. 

After a small lull, you held your ground as the atmosphere once again fell into awkwardness. You shook your head to stifle your nerves, sucking in a breath to elevate your courage. 

“Can I buy you a drink or two when we get to port?” you ask him, eyes dropping to the ground and hands laced behind you, “An expression of my gratitude for you helping me out?”

“You askin’ me out on a date?” Beckman disguised his growing smile by arching himself away from you, loosening the tie in his hair and beginning to restyle it.

“And if I am?” you ask, still avoiding his gaze by holding your eyes firmly against the floor, “What then?”

“What then, Darlin’,'' he smirked, his eyes softening as his hands found your hips, “Is that I'd accept.” He pulled you flush with him, prompting your eyes to widen and search his gray orbs in your shock, “I wouldn't mind spending an evening with you, havin’ drinks in a quiet corner for a change.”

“It would be a nice change,” you confessed, eyes again falling soft for the first mate. He leant his hips back on the wooden railing, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. His index finger lingered on your chin, holding your eyes against his. 

“What was it for you? To have you finally make a move after all this time?” he asked, his eyes turning playful as he looked down at you through half-hooded eyes, “The hands or the elbow?”

“I think it was the words,” you confessed with a small laugh, “Not used to having the Great Benn Beckman whisper: ‘be a good little thing and take it.’ Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm being honest,” a small choked pause fell from Beckman's lips, your own question now posed to him.

“What made you accept a drink with me?” you searched his eyes quizzically, pursing your lips as you continued, “We've served together for so long, what made you consider it now?”

“Oh Darlin', I've always considered it. More than considered it,” he huffed out a chuckle, bringing your face closer to his with the curl of his index finger, “Just didn't know how much I wanted it ‘til you started sayin' my name like that.” He hovered his lips over yours, his breath still scented with the sour, smoky tang of his last cigarette as he beckoned you in. 

“Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm bein' honest,” he parroted your words back at you before finally claiming your lips beneath his own in a chaste kiss. The attention he gave your lips was brief, ending contact almost as soon as they touched. 

He pulled away from your lips, noticing your pout and slight agitation at the hastiness the kiss ended. Chuckling, he leant over your ear and confessed his intentions further. 

“Cap’n’s watchin’,” he nodded over to where Shanks’ taunting eyes and winning smile wordlessly teased you both, “Don't wanna give him more ammunition to tease you with, Darlin'. No matter how much I really wanna kiss you.”

“I owe you more,” you hummed up at him with a soft smile, tucking the loose strand of hair away from his forehead and behind his ear, “Anything I can do to repay my growing debt to you? More than a couple drinks later, a little kiss, or taking care of your duties for you today?”

“Just the promise of your company later will do for now,” he chuckled, leaning into the heel of your palm with his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

“Aye, Sir,” you smirked at him, giving his cheek two gentle taps before returning back to duty with a newfound rejuvenation. Your limbs felt lighter, your body felt freer and your head felt less foggy with the prior pain you felt. 

Shanks sauntered over towards his first-mate, smirking and kicking up his feet all along the way in a playful dance. Beckman shook his head, reaching for another cigarette and lit the end. Shanks leaned his head against Beck’s shoulders, uttering not a single word as he fluttered his eyelashes, wiggled his eyebrows and clicked his tongue at the broody, larger man. 

“Don’t even start,” Beckman growled under his breath. Shanks smiled wider, jolting his right index finger into Beckman’s side as he hummed up a playful mock at him. 

“But you finally made a move, big man,” Shanks chuckled, nudging him with his left shoulder, “How long’s it been now? Two, maybe three years of longing, yearning and lusting from afar, hm?”

“Four,” Beckman commented gruffly, inhaling a deep breath of smoke in his mouth and holding it still behind his lips, “And I remember saying: ‘don’t even start’.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going, I’m going,” Shanks held his right hand up in defence, an extra buzz in his step at the knowledge that Beckman and you had finally allowed a small crack in the door open to engage with one another this way. A small chuckle erupted in Shanks’ voice, his own amusement adamant over his features.

“Right there Becks, don’t stop,” Shanks’ voice whined again in a needy moan, before growling out a rumbled mock of, “I’m not gonna stop ‘til you’re done,” he laughed, turning back over his shoulder, “Honestly, Beckman. Show a bit of composure, man.” 

Beckman’s blush scorched scarlet on his features, prompting him to thrust the butt of his cigarette into the drawer and begin to charge at his Captain. Shanks shrieked out a giddy cry of amusement at his first-mate.

“Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!” Shanks laughed, turning tail and began running away in glee from successfully taunting his first mate. The barrelling boot heels of the first mate almost managed to catch up to the Captain immediately, but Shanks continued successfully darting away from Beckman’s disciplinary grasp.

[imagineshere-forall]

- staying with mom pt. 2 ✰ e. diaz

Summary/Request: For a part 2 to Staying With Mom, maybe they’re at the hospital getting Mom checked out and both Chris and Eddie keep calling her mom. The reader is just having all the feels and she just loves it and Eddie loves it too. If you need more detail just let me know.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: poor medical knowledge and tooth rotting fluff

Pairing:  Eddie Diaz x fem!reader 

Word Count: 1.3k

Notes: Not super happy with how this turned out, but oh well, I missed writing and wanted to write some more. Please send requests im up to s7 of the walking dead, so am also taking requests for that! Also in this Shannon never came back, she left and Chris has no memory of her.

part one

The journey in the ambulance had been uneventful, despite there being a paramedic in the back of the van with you and your boys, Eddie had taken over your care. The paramedic that had been accompanying in the van had mostly just sat back and let him take over, occasionally pointing out where some bits of equipment were.

The pain in your leg was still excruciating, and it didn’t help that Eddie was shining a light in your pupils every few minutes to check the reactions. Once he realised your leg injury was not your only injury, and you had been knocked unconscious by debris, he had become frenzied urging the driver to go faster while he kept checking your vitals. You hadn't even told him you hit his head, but when he helped you to get a bit more comfortable on the stretcher he noticed the blood that stained his hand after he held your head.

“Eddie, I’m fine, my leg is just hurting” You said, pushing the torch away from your face after Eddie started checking your eyes again.

“Fine? Babe your head is bleeding and your leg is looking a bit squashed,” Eddie sighed. He was clearly worried about you. 

Chris had remained curled up to your side on the stretcher, clutching your middle, scared to let go. Despite the stressful situation, his heart had warmed at the sight in front of him. 

Once you had arrived at the hospital you were placed in the urgent waiting room. As you were still conscious and talking, people who had been more injured in the earthquake had taken priority over you. Due to the state of your leg the ambulance staff had placed you in a wheelchair and disinfected the stretcher before they headed back out to help more people. 

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asked, once again. 

“Chris, your dad is crazy,” You said, ignoring Eddie looking at the boy slouched over the arm of your wheelchair. Eddie rolled his eyes and smirked at this. 

It wasn’t much longer until you were called to be seen by a doctor, and your boys quickly stood up and wheeled you into the room with the doctor. Chris held onto your hand and walked alongside you as Eddie pushed you.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor asked as soon as she shut the door to the private room.

“Mom got hurt in the earthquake,” Chris spoke first. He was so quick that you hadn’t had the chance to speak yet. 

“Well, we better check mom out then,” The doctor said, smiling at Chris.

For the rest of the appointment, you were referred to as mom as the doctor tried to reassure Chris, and it just warmed something in your heart. Unknown to you but it also made Eddie’s heart swell. 

Despite you feeling fine, the doctor wanted to keep you for observation overnight and you had managed to convince her to let Eddie and Chris stay with you. Chris went back to being snuggled into your side once you were given a bed, and promptly fell asleep. 

“How are you feeling, mom?” Eddie whispered, putting emphasis on the last word. 

“Apart from the broken leg, I feel amazing,” you whispered looking down at the sleeping boy tightly curled into you. “I can’t believe he called me mom.”

“He loves you so much, as do I.” Eddie smiled as he leant forward to give you a small kiss “Which I guess means I've got to do something.”

You looked puzzled as Eddie leant over and shook Chris awake. 

“Eddie, he was asleep, what are you doing?” you ask, very confused, but your question was ignored.

“Chris, do you remember that thing I said I was going to ask mom one day, it’s time.” Upon hearing this Chris shot up, filled with so much energy and sat up at the end of your bed.

“Your jacket is over there dad” Chris pointed to the chair in the corner of the room. Eddie quickly stood up, and hurried over to the chair, almost slipping over on the clean hospital floors.

“Be careful Eddie, we don’t want both of us injured,” you sighed.

“It’s all good mom, don’t you worry,” he smiled.

Eddie sat down in the chair next to your head, jacket folded over on his lap, and took your hands in his.

“What are you doing?” You sit up a bit more in your bed, confused as to what was happening.

“It’s okay mom,” Chris said. It was hard to feel worried when he called you mom, it made you so happy. You turn back to Eddie who has your hands in his. 

“y/n, you have made both mine and Chris’s life so much better. There isn’t anyone I’d rather be Chris’s mom, and my wife.” Eddie paused, reaching into the inside zip pocket of his jacket. You wanted to ask what was happening, but you were in such shock you were speechless. In Eddie’s hand was a small velvet box. While holding the box, he went back to cradling your hand. 

“y/n will you do me the absolute pleasure of being my wife” Eddie’s voice started to crack. 

“And my mom!” Chris shouted.

“Yes, and Chris’ mom. Will you please marry me?” At this point, Eddie’s voice was wobbling while he awaited your answer. 

You struggled to speak, eyes streaming, your spare hand over your mouth in shock. Unable to get the words out you just nodded. 

“Yes?” Eddie questioned.

“Yes.” you nodded. 

Eddie quickly grabbed your hand and placed the sparkling ring that was once in the box on your ring finger, and then kissed your face all over before placing on last kiss on your lips while cradling your face in his hands. 

“Eddie, have you just been carrying around this gorgeous ring?” you asked as you began to admire the jewellery adorning your finger. 

“For about a year and a half,” he shrugged looking down at your hand. 

“We’ve only been together a little over 2 years,” you laughed. 

“I would’ve had it sooner, but it was really hard to get your ring size without being obvious.” he smiled.

“You are crazy Edmundo,” you laughed.

“Crazy for you, and now you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I wouldn’t want anything else, now get your butt on this bed, I want to have a cuddle with my boys,” you said as you shuffled making space for the three of you. Once Eddie was on the bed, you helped Chris get in the middle of you, it was tight and uncomfortable, but you didnt want to be anywhere else. 

“I love you guys, and now you’re my boys, forever.” you smiled as you placed a kissed on each of their heads.

“I love you mom” 

[strawbebbynya]

Help a disabled guy get mobility/QoL aids?

(art by @nekosd43)

Hello! I hate to have to ask for help getting ANOTHER mobility aid, but. I have been having horrible pain flair ups recently and my walker is just too unwieldy to get around with in my apartment/short trips, and my cane no longer works for my pain.

I believe I have fibromyalgia (and I'm pretty sure my doc is looking into that diagnosis), which explains a lot of the pain I've been in. The main item I am hoping to get on this list are the arm crutches. If you know of a reputable source/have a recommendation for an overweight FtM, let me know!

The crutches are $200+, so I'm going to either have to desperately save up and crowdfund, or be extremely tight on money for a month. I could really use the help, as I can barely bend my legs without excruciating pain.

I have nothing to offer in the way of commissions, which I apologize for, but I don't have the power to really write anymore. Even just a reblog helps, but I'm sick of living like this and really need to just bite the bullet.

I plan to pay through affirm, paying ~$25 a month! My end goal is still 250!

Venmo and Cashapp: giftofeden

Paypal:

Last updated July 20th 2023

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Peter Parker x widow!reader

I'm just imaging Natasha little sister coming to live at Stark tower and Peter falling head over heels

He just strikes me as the type to have a badass girlfriend while he's a softie

a/n:��feels an appropriate for this to do a classic flirty sparring fic, don't you think? ♡

word count: 618

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist 

“You’re strong, right?” you nonchalantly asked as you passed Peter in the hallway, not stopping in your stride to wait for his answer. 

Doing a double take, he sputtered, “w-what?”

“Come with me,” you kept your eyes fixed forward as you called back to him, “I need someone to train with.”

“Uh, okay,” you heard his footsteps catch up to yours. 

Readjusting the protective wraps your fists were already enveloped in, you soon rounded the corner into the gym, briefly giving each of your arms a good stretch to each side on your determined stride towards the wide mat in the centre of the room. 

“Alright,” you spun around, gesturing for him to step closer, joining you on the square pad, “no webs or anything,” you rolled your neck, a quiet crack resounding at the stretch, “just some good old fashion one on one, yeah?”

“I really don’t wanna hurt you,” he exhaled lowly as you raised your clenched fists.

“Well, that makes one of us,” you chuckled, not needing any longer before pouncing, landing a swift blow to the side of his jaw, “come on, hit me!”

A grimace briefly blooming from where you struck him, he groaned, “I can’t, I’m sorry, it just feels wrong to hit a girl.”

“Parker,” you rolled your eyes and vocalised the reason for your choice of sparring partner, “I wanted a challenge, so give me a fucking challenge.”

Your leg arced all the way up to his shoulder, though your foot barely even managed a tap him before he had somehow twisted you down onto the floor, overpowering you with his staggering strength. Thinking that was enough, a soft smile curled up on Peter’s lips as he hovered above you, waiting for you to tap out. 

Though when your palm reluctantly came down upon the mat and you both got back up, you quickly hissed, “again!” 

“You sure you don’t wanna just-,” his sentence crumbled as you cut him off with yet another punch.

“I said again!” you tightened your core and spun up onto his shoulders in an attempt to take him down. Smirking as you felt him begin to tumble, the celebration sadly didn’t last very long as you didn’t land on your feet as you usually did, his instincts haven kicked in and sent you rolling across the floor.

All the air in your lungs got knocked out as your body collided with one of the sporadic pillars in the room, an excruciating pain flaring up in your right shoulder at the impact. 

“Oh my god,” Peter rushed to your side as you slowly sat up, “I am so so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Peter,” you groaned to shut him up, peeking down at your dislocated joint, “I’m fine,” your laboured breaths filled the air, “just pop it back into place.”

“What?”

Squinting up at his horrified features, you carefully got back up on your feet and murmured, “fine, I’ll just do it myself then,” before turning to face the column and pressing your injured shoulder against it. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Peter winched, “you could make it worse like that if you-” the loud snap as you rammed against the post, popping it back into place, effectively shut him up completely. 

“Sure, if you’re an idiot and don’t know how to do it,” you exhaled as the sharp stinging melted into a more bearable ache, “you have no idea how many times I've had it happen. Still remember the first time I had to figure out how to do it on my own. I was on an assignment in Düsseldorf, hiding in this closet and I couldn’t make a sound…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

Am I Dreaming?

Sherlock doesn’t know what’s real and what’s imagination anymore. Everything is a blur of sleep deprivation, thirst, hunger, and excruciating pain. Whenever his jailer and the torturists are leaving him alone, he sighs relieved, but he soon panics when he starts to think about their return. It’s then a vision of John appears before him.

“You can do this, Sherlock. Don’t you dare give up; you hear me? I need you to come home to me, alright? There, now, shh, I’ve got you. Stay strong, Sherlock. For me. Please.”

John’s voice is commanding at first, urging Sherlock to get a grip, but it always turns tender when Sherlock can’t hold back his sobs. He wishes John would touch him, so he could feel his warmth and be comforted by those steady hands that have healed him so many times. Before Sherlock jumped off a roof.

In the early days of his capture, Sherlock was able to see himself from above. Taking stock over his misery and the cell, desperately trying to find a way to escape. The longer he was jailed, the more his brain failed him. It became mushy, the sharp observation skills left him, and he was unable to soar anymore. His only comfort was John’s visits.  

Sherlock knows he’s about to die. Before he met John, this wouldn’t have bothered him at all but now…now it’s an unbearable thought. Never to see John again? Not be able to explain why he had to jump. Why John couldn’t know that it was a magic trick. To beg John’s forgiveness. To tell John…

The door to his cell opens and Sherlock steels himself for whatever gruesome punishment the Serbians have installed for him. A familiar voice gives orders to someone. Sherlock’s eyes are blindfolded, but his hearing is still excellent. That voice…no, it can’t be. The person speaks Serbian, and to Sherlock’s knowledge, Mycroft doesn’t speak Serbian. Unless he’s learned it sufficiently enough to rescue Sherlock. No, that doesn’t make sense. Mycroft doing legwork? If Sherlock wasn’t so exhausted, he would’ve laughed. It comes out as a cough, which sends a sharp stab of pain through his entire body.

He must’ve blacked out, because when he wakes his cell is gone. At his right side there’s a small window. Sherlock’s brain is too dizzy to comprehend where he is, but he realises something. He is soaring again, but what he sees underneath is impossible. London. Sherlock is soaring above London!

“Am I dreaming?” he whispers and closes his eyes as tears start to form.

“Brother mine,” Mycroft says softly at Sherlock’s left side.

Sherlock keeps his eyes firmly shut. He can’t bear if this isn’t real.

“You are not dreaming, Sherlock,” Mycroft assures him.

Is his voice trembling?

Sherlock feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s warm. He opens his eyes and there he is, Mycroft Holmes, his arch enemy and big brother. They’re on a private jet, Sherlock discerns. Before he can ask, Mycroft lifts an eyebrow and nods.

“I will let him know.”

Sherlock sighs relieved and falls asleep while the tarmac comes into sight.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @raina-at @7-percent @ninasnakie

[recklessmark]

hear me out 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ sleazy ass disgusting jock mark doing all these lewd and disgusting and suggestive ‘gestures’ everytime he sees reader in her skimpy cheer uniform before training and then reader just ignoring him and rolling her eyes or flipping her midfing at him then one day mark trapped her… on her knees in pain while mark grips her hair while the other just jacks off to her face and then spits at her face full of his cum 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

warnings: dubcon, degradation, rough facefuck

you're walking through the school hallway in your cheer uniform, heading towards the training area when you encountered mark again. and by again, you mean like the fifth time this week and you had five days of practice. it's insane how you always saw him when you went training. most of the times, he just looked you up and down, raising a brow. the other day, he licked his lips while adjusting his glasses as though he wanted to see you clearer. you were tempted to gouge his eyes out then, but settled with flipping him off. he's a goddamn jock and you don't want to give him more attention than what he's already got.

today, he'd obviously somehow gotten bolder. because he suddenly blocked your path.

"hey there, sweetheart. going to cheer practice? maybe i can give you some personal training."

you rolled your eyes and tried to maneuver around him, but he stepped in your way once more.

"seriously, mark? can't you find someone else to bother? i'm not interested."

without waiting for a response, you sprinted down the hallway in the opposite direction. hoping to escape his presence, you quickly entered an abandoned classroom to catch your breath. the sound of the door being locked echoed a moment after and you jumped, turning around to face the door.

"what the hell, mark? unlock the door right now!"

motherfucker is definitely insane.

"i’m going to choke you with my cock, and you’re going to like it.” was his reply.

he fucked into your mouth roughly, with no warning and no time to get used to the intrusion, and you gagged. mark pulled out again.

“tell me how big i am, that i fill you up. beg me for it.”

you blinked up at him, drool dripping down your chin as you complied.

“ you’re so big, mark. i wa—“

he shoved his cock back inside before you could finish the words, his cruel desire making him impatient as he fucked your throat in earnest. it was soft and warm and everything he wanted.

eventually, when you were gagging and choking, your complexion pale from lack of oxygen, mark pulled out again. his cock throbbed, heavy and wet in his hand, soaked in a combination of precum and saliva. you gasped for breath.

thoughts of wrongness threatened to enter mark's mind again and he shoved them aside, grabbing you by the hair tightly and leaning down to whisper more orders into your ear.

“tell me you want my cum. say you’ll be good, so that i’ll give it to you.”

then he slapped you lightly across the face, first with his hand and then with his cock, waiting for your reaction.

“i want your cum,” you whispered. “please, i’ll be good, i promise, please give it to me…”

he gave you another cruel smile, stroking his cock and holding it torturously close to your open mouth.

“thank you, mark!” you cried in relief, moving to take the tip into his mouth, then whined when he took it away again.

mark played this game a few times, relishing in the sound of the your desperate begging. however, he had prolonged this enough already and was dangerously close to finishing. so many thoughts cascaded through his mind—guilt and triumph and pure, unadulterated lust—until he could wait no longer.

“you want my cum, don’t you?” he asked, reaching down to stroke your tear-streaked face with his fingers.

“yes, mark! please, i want it so bad…” your whined, your knees were in excruciating pain from how long you'd been kneeling.

“fine, but i’m not going to make it easy for you. a whore like you can lick it up.”

a few more strokes to send mark over the edge and he came, hard, into your open mouth and all over your face. spurt after spurt of hot, wet cum splashed onto your cheeks, onto your cheer uniform, and onto the floor between you. mark groaned before spitting onto your face. you winced. it mixed with his cum, trickling down your cheeks and forehead.

"lick it off the floor, slut."

[xetswan]

Unknowing- Book Three- Transformation

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[Thirteen] [One] [Two]

I couldn't hold on much longer, the pain was getting more and more excruciating after the blood settled in and we were getting to the point that if I didn't do the transformation now, my body would do it on its own.

Something I don't know if I'm ready for. Originally it was for everyone else, I didn't know if I was going to be dangerous or not.

Now it's because I'm scared of how long it's going to last. I knew I was frustrating everyone.

They needed me to do it. So, since my dad thinks I'm sick with something mysterious, Carlisle told him I need to see a doctor he knows for two weeks in Alaska, so I can finish the transformation. Now here we are.

"[Name] are you sure you don't want me to go?" He questions me, I hum, nodding my head as I pack my bags.

"Dad, it will only worry you even more, think that I'm on a trip at mom's house or something." I told him. Alice and Jasper were in my bedroom with me, helping me since I got too weak to really hold anything.

Jasper takes my bag, putting it over his shoulder. "I just, I feel like I need to be there." He frowns, leaning against my doorway.

"I would like it if you stayed here. I don't want you to see me in a hospital bed. Also, you need to be here to make sure Bella isn't with Edward the whole time." I tease him, knowing how much he dislikes Edward. He's actually pretty cordial with Jasper and Bella compared to him.

My partners didn't leave me out in the woods like he did with my sister. He thinks we had a mutual break up when in reality it was pretty similar with Bella only I'm not a human. I had the choice to leave with them. She did not.

"Don't remind me." He lets out a strong sigh, Alice and Jasper quietly snickers. I smile at them, then back to Charlie.

"And another thing, you used all your pto with work so you wouldn't even be able to get out for two weeks like I am." I add on to the trying to explain why it's best to let me go to Alaska for two weeks by myself to a doctor.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't want me to come. I understand. Just please update me." He comes over and hugs me. I feel my bones crack from the hug since I've barely moved and this transition is making me more and more human. Weak, very, very weak.

He lets me go, backing away to look at me. His face was saddened. Probably by the lack of color in my features, my eyes sunken in, and cracked lips. "We should probably get going, Chief Swan." Jasper speaks up, his hand finding the small of my back, Alice smiling politely in agreement at Charlie.

"Right," he backs out of my room, moving out of our way. "Right, I'll see you  in two weeks, [Name]. Thank you guys for taking her, Alice, Jasper." He nods his head at them. "See you." I wave to him.

"Of course, sir." Alice pats his shoulder in passing. "It's no problem." Jasper adds in, leading me out of the door. My dad watches us leave from the window of the house.

I notice in my peripheral vision as Jasper helps me get into his car. Alice sits in the back with me. Jasper is driving and Carlisle is in the passenger seat. Carlisle looks back to me as I lay my head down on Alice's lap.

"You know if this takes longer I think he will push on your boundaries and try to come to the hospital." He tells me, I scrunch my nose. "I know." I close my eyes, feeling the pain start to kick in.

The bumps on the road really bring out more discomfort. I feel Jasper repeatedly trying to take away my pain, it's subtle. He takes away the anger and confusion I have, which helps.

The anger triggers more pain so it really, truly helps when he does it. Even if it's for ten minutes or shorter. I know they're trying to help me be as comfortable as possible before the worst of it.

Originally we were just going to have me do it at their house but we thought about hikers. If they hear my screams and animalistic noises they could call authorities so we're going to Alaska. Thankfully and this shows how rich he is, Carlisle got a private jet so if I do scream he's the one piloting.

No outside people.

"What if I do it accidentally on the plane?" I ask him, now worried. "We'll figure it out." Alice pets my hair back, playing with it as I look up at her. "Just like Alice says, that's not something you have to worry about." Carlisle assures me.

I feel bad now, knowing they have to go through all this trouble just for knowing Bella and I. How much trouble we've brought them. I just wish if I could I would've never brought myself into their lives knowing what I know now.

I would've loved the wolf that originally imprinted on me and NEVER spoke with Alice or Jasper.

The incarnate bullshit would've never happened.

I groan from the pain of Jasper turning the car, now gripping onto Alice's knee. Letting out a huff as we come to a stop. "Are you alright?" He questions me, turning to look at me. We are at the airport now.

"Just certain movements, it hurts." I truthfully say, Alice helps me sit up and we get out of the vehicle. Jasper gives his keys to the valet.

Carlisle takes my bag from Alice and both she and Jasper treat me like a glass doll as they help me up the stairs of the private jet.

"I can do it, you know?" I timidly snap at them, not meaning to but due to my emotions being all over the place and this being my situation it's bound to happen.

It's been happening numerous times and every single time they apologize to me knowing I don't mean to do it to them. "Just be careful." Alice whispers, watching every step I make nervously. Once I get inside the plane I feel my knees want to give out so I take the nearest seat possible. Esme was already inside to greet me.

"Hey, sweetheart." She smiles, giving me a small hug. "Hi, Esme." I weakly hug her back with one arm. She was Carlisle's co-pilot, as if he needed one.

"Alright," Carlisle pretends to struggle with the door, just for the people outside who's watching him. "Let's get this going. We have a 4 and a half hour flight." He informs us, I put a thumbs up. Alice and Jasper acknowledge it before he goes into the cockpit.

The plane ride was smooth, Alice and Jasper pampering me religiously. Giving me blood bags that they hid in cups just in case I needed one in public. Covering me in blankets when I have cold spurts. Then putting ice on my forehead during the heat ones. I feel like a sick dog that the whole family makes sure doesn't die in his last years even though they really need to put him down but they can't give him up just yet.

Luckily I didn't start the transformation, but the pain was like it knew we were getting closer and closer. Tanya met us at the airport with a large car, big enough for me to lay a little bit in while putting my head on someone's lap. She greets me with a smile.

"It's nice to finally meet you." She says with a grin, opening the door for us. Jasper  and Esme climbs into the back so we can be in the middle seats and I have that room to lay down.

"You as well." I mutter through gritted teeth as the pain still was there. "I wish it was under better circumstances." She quietly says as I get into the car, Alice following behind. "Thank you for doing this, Tanya." Carlisle thanks her, she bows her head in response.

"Irina's not too happy but it will be okay." She tells him and then I remember. Irina was the one who was courted by Laurent. Flashes of his death settle in my head and I frown.

"I appreciate it, we'll be out of your hair when it's over." Carlisle then gets in the car, Tanya walking to the drivers side and doing the same thing. I let my head fall to Alice's lap during the fast car ride.

Thankfully the faster the car the less I feel the bumps so it hurts less. I feel Jasper's hand finding mine over the seat and I open my eyes to look at him, his head resting on the seat in front of him, looking down at me. I smile at him, he does it back.

Pulling up to the house was the most painful, the bumps into the driveway. "We have a cottage in the woods, it's even further from the house and nothing for miles." I hear Kate say as we're getting out of the large car.

"Thank you." Carlisle thanks her just like he did with Tanya. I can feel myself getting hot. I stop walking and take a breath. "I can't move." I grunt, holding myself.

Alice comes over to me lightning fast. Jasper was already behind me. Jasper hands Alice the stuff he had in his hands and lifts me up carefully bridal style. The coldness he gives off helps, I immediately lean against his chest trying to breathe it out.

"I can feel it starting." I tiredly mumble to Jasper. I feel him panic. "We need to get to that cottage.Now." He tells everyone, the sisters lead them to the cottage, using the vampire ability to go fast.

Getting to the small cottage Jasper lays me down on the bed that has everything off of it. Which I'm grateful for because I probably would've destroyed it. "Alright [Name] you need to let go now, you need to let it happen." Carlisle instructs me and I squeeze my eyes.

"I'm scared." I cry out, not even wanting to open my eyes. "Lovebug, just get it over with." She whispers to me, moving my hair out of my face as I grip onto the mattress. Sweat trickling down my face. "It's going to hurt." I whine.

"Darling you've been hurting for almost a month now. You can get it over with and never deal with pain again." Jasper jumps in.

I start breathing fast and heavily, getting myself ready and when I do it was like a pain I've never felt before.

Worse than the first time I transformed into a vampire. The burning sensation feels like thousands of people using hot irons on my body at the hottest they could be.

As when I was turning into a vampire it was more of a fire sensation. I try to hold in my screams, muffling it by biting my own hand. "[Name] it's okay to scream." Esme says to me, I try to say something but I can't, it comes out in a loud noise I never thought I could make.

It is ten times louder than any loud noise I've ever heard. I even saw Tanya or one of the sisters, I can't tell with my blurry vision, plugging her ears. After that I wasn't able to hear anything around me.

Not even the own noises I was creating. Not knowing if I was screaming or grunting. Anything. No voices made sense, they were muffled.

"She- I'm- Why!?" I heard Alice's voice. I gripped onto the mattress, on my stomach as I brought my knees to my chest.

The insufferable pain is only getting worse.

(Change of point of view)

"What do we do!?" Alice questions even though she already knows the answer herself. Of course she knows but hearing her girlfriend's screaming  and groaning in pain. And knowing the fact that it could last up to three weeks. "Alice, I think it's best for you to leave the room for right now." Carlisle places a hand on her shoulder, he watches the girl stare at [Name], looking like she wants to do something, ready to kill something to stop her girlfriend's pain.

Jasper was trying to attempt to take her pain, even though that has nothing to do with his ability he wants to try for her. At Least before he was able to take her anger that stunted some of the pain. Now they're both just standing there useless.

Carlisle was the one to give the updates to Charlie. After the third day of updates, Charlie was getting antsy wanting to just hear his daughter's voice. So, of course Carlisle had to make up a believable lie coming as a doctor.

"She's been vocalizing her pain a lot more, causing her to lose her voice. She's going to go into surgery to take out her appendix and tonsils. Those are what have been making her sick but due to the extremity of it and the infection it could put her in a medical coma that will last two weeks. When she wakes up we will call you to come see her. The hospital is not letting any visitors due to an illness going around. We have cousins here and when she's out of the hospital if you'd like or we'll take her straight back home." Carlisle explains to him.

"Just take her home right away please." Charlie pleads, his voice breaking. He doesn't understand what Carlisle is saying but he tries his best and just believes him.

By day seven [Name] was making animalistic noises, growling at some points. Her thrashing got to the point where they had to tie her down so she doesn't hurt herself more than she already has.

They won't hold her for long so every six hours they have to change the ties. "She's transitioning a lot faster than I've seen before, especially for someone who has waited this long to even transform." Carlisle observes her, you can barely tell but there's little changes.

When her eyes open you can see them being a more golden color. When the sun shows, which is rare for Alaska but when it does the shine that vampires normally have, isn't there on [Name].

"She ripped a little bit of the mattress." Alice motions to the bed, kind of tuning out the noises [Name] has been making. "We'll replace it." Carlisle says in a bored tone. Not that he is bored. Just feeling all the emotions they have been these past days has been overwhelming.

Esme walks over to him and holds his hand, knowing he's taking this on himself, already caring for [Name] like another daughter. He technically did die at 23 but his mind is way older. Being over 3 centuries old.

Going into day 12, they're all hoping the transformation is almost done. [Name] has calmed down, finally able to talk but her pain is still unbearable.

Coming in waves just like it did beforehand. Blood doesn't even help make it a little better.

Day 14 is going into the second week. [Name] looks exhausted. Her arms tied up on either side of the bed frame due to going into wolf episodes. Soon enough she's going to shape-shift so they take off the ties. She rubs her wrists, throwing her head back.

"I think the worst of it.. It's over." She huffs, then looks around her, the bed ripped up, the stuff inside of it coming out.

"You just have to turn into a wolf to finish it off." Carlisle tells her. Her eyes widened.

She was never going to use that ability. It was something that her and her lovers talked about. [Name] didn't feel comfortable doing it infront of vampires. Especially Irina.

"We'll take you out further into the woods to do it." Jasper tells her, already sensing her discomfort with the idea.

Esme helps Jasper with getting [Name] out of the bed. Getting her outside was a little difficult, her legs being weak from the transition.

But her senses her stronger than before. Her eyesight heightened along with her hearing and smell. Alice and Carlisle followed after them, the Denali sisters stayed behind but watched them go. "It's a quick transition and right when you're done we have clothes you can change into." Carlisle tells [Name], trying to make it a little easier and better for her to do.

"We'll be right at the cottage when you're done." Alice smiles at her once they get to the place she can transition at. "Leaving the clothes on this tree." Esme places clothes on a fallen tree.

[Name] keeps herself up against a tree. Taking energy from around her to help herself. Something she wasn't able to do before. Feeling herself get stronger she glances down at herself. She feels different, she didn't understand what it was though.

Not wanting to waste time at that, once she hears the cottage door open then close she focuses on transitioning.

At first nothing happened. "Wolves are emotional." She reminds herself. Wolves are emotional... She begins to make herself angry.

The fact that she is what she is right now starts to hit her. Having to be different from not only her sister who is a human, her lovers who are vampires and now her childhood best friend who is a wolf. She's both, stronger than all of them. She didn't want this. She didn't choose this.

She feels the same tingle she's felt before but instead of warmth it's just a tingle.

She sees the steam emit from her body then her clothes begin to rip and her body shifts into a large wolf.

A large, white/tan wolf with bright red/gold eyes. She howls in the sky, letting them know she transitioned.

After a few moments she shifts back into her normal form. Quickly she changes into her clothes. Picking up the ripped ones off the ground and racing back to the cottage.

When she slams the door open she runs straight into Jasper and Alice's arms. "I did it!" She laughs excitedly.

They hold onto her tightly, happy to see her in a semi-normal state and not in pain at all.

Masterlist

A&J M.L.

Taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

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[frost-queen]

The burden you carry (Male!Reader & Bridgerton siblings)

Requested by: anon ,Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

When does it end?

The burning question igniting each time it happened. Each time it occurred you wondered when does it end? The pain… no the torment. The excruciating pain shooting through your head. Countless of times you had endured it. Countless of times you thought you had gone through the worst one yet.

Yet there was always another episode that caught you by surprise. Bypassing your previous feeling so strong. Each time it felt worse then before. Sometimes it made you wonder why you were even alive. Tormented with this curse that seemed uncurable.

Many physicians you had seen come and go. Each with their own remedies. Most of them were questionable liquids. It was when one of the more alternative physicians proposed shock therapy, that your family drew the line.

You felt it come up while sitting in the parlor. Hyacinth was practicing the piano with Colin. Sitting side by side as Colin talked encouraging to her as her fingers tickled the keys. Gregory sat closest to you eating a biscuit. The crumbs falling down on the little plate he was holding close under his chin when taking a bite. Anthony and Kate sat in front of each other by the small table.

Kate enjoying a nice cup of tea. Anthony reading the newspaper. Tilting your head a bit, you tried to ignore the stinging pain in your head. Feeling as if the muscles in your head contracted together. A pulsating beat of pain came up. It made you touch your forehead slightly. Hoping you could press the pain back by setting pressure on it.

Gregory must have noticed it as you received a nudge on your elbow from him. Blinking yourself aware, you turned to look at him. Gregory’s expression concerned; mouth still stuffed with cake. You forced a smile not wanting to alarm him. – “All fine Gregs.” – you whispered to him, poking him in the side. Your touch made Gregory squirm and chuckle loud. It caught Anthony’s attention. Lowering his newspaper to look at the both of you.

You kept poking Gregory in the side, making him laugh even louder. He sunk down in the couch, his legs moving up on your lap. You kept teasing him till a strike of pain hit your brains like a hard snap. It made you stop, flinching at the pain with a soft groan. Hyacinth missed a key. The sharp note chiming loud through the parlor. Stinging loud in everyone’s ears. – “Sorry.” – Hyacinth apologized feeling a bit ashamed. Colin brought her attention back to the piano.

“Let us try that again, sister.” – he said. You swallowed when Anthony kept a close eye on you. He always did. Sometimes it bothered you, but mostly it showed you how much he cared and loved for you. Gregory’s plate had fallen during his tickle session with you. He bend down to pick it up and pluck some crumbs off the carpet. Kate raising her eyebrow at him.

Making him smile sheepishly at her in return. The door to the parlor opened as Sofie walked in. Benedict following moments later. Anthony got up instinctively giving his seat away to Sofie. Kate smiled welcoming her over. – “I am worn out.” – she sighed out sitting down on Anthony’s previous seat. Kate turned to look at Benedict.

“If you keep setting her up like an object any longer she might turn into stone.” – Kate commented knowing off the painting Benedict was working on. Benedict moved his hand to his chest, smiling teasingly. – “Your cold looks might just do the trick.” – he joked knowing Kate would not be offended by such a tease.

She smiled sarcastically back at him before smiling purely at his delight. Gregory ran with the plate and picked up crumbs to the table, setting it down by Kate and Sofie. He then wanted to run off when Anthony cleared his throat loud. – “What?” – Gregory asked. Anthony pointed at the plate making Gregory groan loud. He walked back to the plate picking it up.

Sighing deep he went further through the parlor giving the plate to one of the maids. She accepted it with a curtsy, heading for the kitchen afterwards. While your siblings and their spouses were conversating, increased the pain. Head throbbing. A dull pain behind your eyes. The pain was sickening as you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand the noise.

Touching your forehead you bend forwards. Wanting to cancel out the pain and noise. Hyacinth’s piano tunes where the drop as the noise was overwhelming. An orchestra of pain and noise banging loudly in your head. Your ability to carry the pain slowly tumbling down.

When does it end? You got up abruptly. Heading for the hallway, leaving the parlor. Anthony furrowed slightly his brows till it came to him that you had left. Turning his head to the door you just went out. Immediately he went after you. – “Y/n!” – Anthony called out in the hallway seeing you hasten your way for the stairs. – “Not now Anthony.” – you replied more agitated then you anticipated. Your answered alarmed him in an instant.

Anthony rushed to the stairs wanting to go after you. As he set the first foot on the first step had Kate, Sofie and Gregory rushed into the hallway. – “Is he alright?” – Sofie asked concerned. – “I shall fetch the cold compress.” – Kate said determined already moving towards her destination. – “No!” – Anthony called out firmly. – “I…allow me.” – he said going a few steps up. – “Anthony let us help. If it is as severe as before we can assist.” – Kate replied.

“He’s my brother!” – Anthony shouted frustrated, startling Sofie. Kate swallowed in her pride knowing not to comment snarky at this given moment. – “I…I have to do it.” – he sighed out losing a bit of his frustration. – “We all care for him, Anthony.” – Kate answered pleadingly. – “I know… I know…” – he said pinching his nose bridge. – “We will be here when you need us.” – Sofie interfered wrapping an arm around Gregory. Anthony smiled thankfully at her before heading up the stairs.

You had stumbled into your room. Head throbbing, veins pulsating as you felt like losing your balance. You sunk down to the ground by your bed’s end on the floor. Knees up to your chest, cowering in pain. Sweat dripping down your neck. The pace of your breathing increasing by every inhale. When does it end? Were you ever able to experience a life without pain? Countless times you had endured it.

Each time thinking you couldn’t bare it no more. Perhaps today was the day you finally had lost all your strength to carry it. No more of it could you burden it. No more of it you wanted. The tears rolled down your cheek, panting at the excruciating pain in your head and eyes. The walls seemingly pulsating as if a vibration was leaving your body.

A sickening overwhelming you, making you want to throw up. Heavy footsteps stomped in the hallway. The door creaking open in one firm motion. Anthony rushing into your room. – “Brother.” – he called out dropping to his knees beside you.

He wanted to touch your shoulder. Not wanting it, you slapped it away. – “Keep your pity!” – you shouted at him. Anthony stared hurtful back at you. – “Leave me.” – you sobbed out. He didn’t move. – “Leave!” – you shouted trembling with emotion. Not meaning one bit of your words.

Anthony took a deep breath, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You tried fighting him by moving your shoulders. Wanting to push him off, but his embrace was strong. – “I will not let go Y/n.” – he said pressing his cheek onto your shoulder. Still resisting you finally gave in. Your muscles weaking under his grip. Anthony held you tighter in his arms. – “Please…” – he said softly to himself. – “give it to me. Give his pain to me, I beg you. Give it to me, my brother has suffered enough. Let me take it from him.” – he spoke pleading with anyone Godly listening.

“I shall hold onto you Y/n.” – he took your head between his hands, bringing your forehead closer to his. – “Let your pain be mine.” – he whispered closing his eyes. You removed your head from against his, falling into his embrace. Sweat breaking out. Shivering at the immensely pain. Head pressed against his chest; you moved your arms around his body.

“You won’t have to go through this alone.” – Anthony told you keeping you close in his embrace. Suffering against him, he remained by your side, helping you through your pain. Through the cluster headaches you have been feeling since you were but a young boy. A pain that was never going to leave. As him. As your family who was never going to leave your side.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[somewhat-very-insane]

questions i am sick and tired of hearing as a chronically ill and disabled person (and why i hate them)

this did wind up a bit longer than i expected it to, but by all means, feel free to add on with any questions you hate to be asked (and why!)

abled people, please do refrain from overtaking this post, and, disabled people, please do refrain from making this post entirely about any one specific condition.

"do you really have to talk about being disabled all the time?"

yes. yes i do. i promise that however annoying it is for you to have to endure the absolute agony that must be me making an offhand comment, or, on occasion, maybe actually talking about something that affects me for more than a few minutes at once, it is infinitely more "annoying" for me to have to actually live with the issues i talk about for every second of every day of my whole life. when i stop talking, you don't have to think about it anymore. but i always have to think about it. you get to put your full focus on something else, or, if the conversation is that annoying for you, you can leave! nobody is forcing you to stay. but talking about my problems is the only way i can get any support for them, and even when i stop, they are still there. i cannot "step away" from the figurative "conversation" with my pain. it is always talking to me, whether it be just a small whisper in the background or screaming at the top of its lungs in my ears, that pain is always there. so, while it's unfortunate that you are getting "tired of hearing about it," please do understand that i got tired of experiencing it a long, long time ago; do not destroy my one way to speak about my experiences solely because you do not wish to be made uncomfortable by them.

"do you really need that pain medication? won't you get addicted?"

in response to that, let me ask you this: do you really need that water you're drinking? aren't you afraid you'll get addicted to drinking water? it sounds ridiculous, i am aware. but i will break it down for you, now (as, in my mind, it is an adequate comparison). every human being needs things like safe, clean water, food, and some form of shelter to survive. however, the majority of humans can survive adequately with a reasonable amount of these items and will be able to function without major pain or other symptoms that detract from their general quality of life. some people, like myself, can have our basic needs of food, water, and shelter met, yet still experience major (or minor) pain, which cannot be blamed on a lack of rest, hunger, or thirst. therefore, in order to function the way society expects us to, and in order to not be quite as utterly miserable as we otherwise would, we may rely on other, stronger medications than the average person would, to manage that pain. these medications are medically prescribed, and we therefore have every right to utilize the resources provided to us. if i were to simply stop taking certain "non-necessary" medications, while my body would technically continue to function with the aid of my "necessary" medications, i as a person would not be able to function. imagine, if you will, the worst headache, joint pain, cramp, or other temporary ailment you have ever experienced. that probably wasn't a very enjoyable experience for you, was it? but you might've been able to use some ibuprofen or acetaminophen, maybe a heating pad, and after a little while it got better. now imagine if you tried to use those same things but the pain did not get better; imagine that pain lasting for months, even years on end, which you simply could not get rid of. a pain which you were expected to simply pretend was not bothering you, and continue to function the same way as everyone else, who was not in pain, was capable of. surely, in this hypothetical, you would want the (perfectly safe, legal, usually non-addictive) medicine that could make that pain even a little bit less excruciating? even if you knew that the pain would never fully disappear, not really, you would still want it to be less. so, i will take my medications, and leave you with the freedom to choose what you put in your body, just as i deserve the same freedom over mine.

"have you tried just exercising? eating healthier? meditation?"

the short answer is, for almost every disabled person i know, yes. though, granted that you've come this far, i'm sure you are prepared for the long answer, too. exercise can, for some conditions, help to alleviate or lessen certain symptoms. the key thing to note here, though, is that the exercise must be safe and selected specifically for the person based on how it may negatively affect them, as well. even activities that most able-bodied people regard as minor, such as going on a walk, can be draining, nausea-inducing, painful, and outright miserable for some people. i cannot, personally, go on a fifteen-minute walk on flat, paved terrain, in very pleasant weather, without triggering dozens of sensations that would surely make any healthy person worry that they were dying. when i tried to pick up an exercise regimen without professional help, i made my health several times worse. taking the advice of people who were, sometimes, genuinely trying to help, put me in serious danger. even when i did have a team of three doctors working on a plan for me, it took several rounds of trying and failing before we were able to determine what activities i could safely do, and which would be beneficial to me. now, being told to "just eat healthier" particularly irks me, because what foods i have to eat to maintain a more "healthy" balance of sugars, sodium, protein, and fat in my system varies quite a bit from that which a healthy person might be told is the ideal. i do understand that, generally, a low-sodium, lower-fat, mainly natural-sugar, high-protein diet sounds healthiest to a large percentage of people, the same cannot be said for myself. i have been told, by numerous medical specialists, that it is absolutely necessary for me to consume high amounts of sodium (think: eating salty food and snacks, on top of an electrolyte drink and salt pill every morning). i also deal with highly fluctuating blood sugar, which doctors cannot yet explain why it suddenly plummets (no, it is not diabetes, yes, i have been asked this dozens of times). as a result, i will often have to eat something "unhealthy," such as fruit snacks or a similar gummy candy, to get my blood sugar back up. is a high-sugar, high-salt intake diet generally what outsiders will see as healthy? of course not. but, as these are things i have to do to specifically manage my symptoms, it is always frustrating to be told that maybe they are symptoms i experience because of my diet. they are not. as for the types of people who insist that simply doing a guided meditation session each day can cure me of my dozens of health conditions, you are simply incorrect. while some people may experience a temporary psychosomatic alleviation of their pain in response to practicing mindfulness techniques, no one should ever urge another human being to substitute life-saving medication with guided breathing and essential oils. the two are simply not on the same level, and meditation does not, cannot, and will not help every disabled person deal with their symptoms.

"aren't you too young to be so unhealthy?"

no. and, while i do wish that people would not press further when faced with such a simple, clear-cut response, some people simply cannot grasp the idea that anyone under forty-five could possibly deal with any sort of health complications. people can be unhealthy at any age; even infants can have heart conditions, after all. while old age certainly has a higher correlation with deteriorating health, it is certainly not a reason to believe that, therefore, anyone who is not old cannot have poor health. believe me, i do wish that whenever someone older told me that i really am just overthinking things and lying to all my doctors and somehow faking things like MRI and X-ray results, those problems simply disappeared. unfortunately, things do not work that way, and by saying things like that not only do you invalidate the experiences of countless ill individuals, you (deliberately or not) paint us as bad people, when all we want to do is survive.