#particularly fragile skin

[fideidefenswhore]

do you think henry would've put mary and elizabeth back in the succession anyways or was it a "just in case" thing when he only had one son? see i'm wondering why he didn't do it sooner, in the 1538-9ish time, to get them married. I just find it weird why he was never clear what their rights were when asked, to make them good brides, until right at the end, when that's why it was so hard to get matches. it feels like he was expecting to have a few more boys and was waiting it out, or getting some distance between him and their moms until he calmed down.

He didn't prioritize them sort of feels like the obvious answer...? Like, iirc, he was attempting to secure his ardently hoped for match with Christina of Denmark by pairing off his children in some sort of tiered alliance but he wasn't legitimating (wrong word, because that's not technically what he did in the Third Succession Act either, but ykwim) his daughters or even just Mary (which probably would have appeased Charles V to some degree, but he wasn't going to do anything that would acknowledge papal authority, which is why this match was never made in the end...they said they needed a papal dispensation to absolve the affinity btwn Henry and Christina via his marriage to Catherine and Henry said they didn't because it was annulled by the Church of England and btw, demanded they acknowledge its authority to annul the union) to do so.

So, the timing of the Succession Act would suggest your second theory. Henry had probably hoped for son(s) from Jane, Anne of Cleves, then KH. The years in between the execution of the last and his marriage to Parr is something of a historical lacuna, but even in a state where he has no expectation of any other sons, given that he's a self-made widower (self-made, twice over...disgusting), he doesn't establish any role for his daughters in the future succession.

After he's been married to Parr for nine months (I mean, it's gross to think of him checking off boxes on a calendar but...yk...nine months exactly is a hell of a coincidence), he gets Parliament to authorize a new succession settlement. He does this before he leaves for the war in France, which made the matter more immediately pressing.

I don't think any amount of time would ever make Henry associate his daughters with their mothers any less, tbh. But if we want to give Henry the benefit of the doubt, maybe this conditional (quasi-)legitimation was not effected for several years because he went back and forth on the decision, took and considered counsel on how, if he wanted to do this, he should bring it about, on what terms, was it a politically viable option, would it have support in Parliament, etc.

Because let's think about Henry as a person for a moment: it's his way or the highway, and he had a very narrow view of the what the succession should be, and what God's will was for his succession. Once the Rubicon was crossed in 1536, there was nothing that could ever have happened that was going to make him (quasi-)legitimate one daughter and not the other (again). To legitimate Mary alone would be to acknowledge the Pope's judgement of 1534 (not to mention to accede to the demand of the Pilgrimage of Grace in 1536), to legitimate Elizabeth alone would completely tarnish the Church of England (one could argue this was tarnished already by reversal, because the same authority that vindicated her parents' marriage also annulled the same, but...Henry would not see it that way); both tantamount to admissions of grave sin that no amount of repentance could diminish, both with the potential to reflect poorly on his authority and judgement, and that potential would not have been acceptable to him, he could never have accepted either to be questioned when he considered it his duty to preserve the sanctity of both.

There were more nobles that would have supported Mary's claim bona fides, but several of these people were destroyed in the Exeter conspiracy. Most that had vehemently defended Elizabeth's were dead, but Henry would have had negative associations with both, although few, if any, of either group would have supported the claim of either above that of a son by marriage.

Although it is rather ironic that by dint of circumstance, and for all his convictions, Henry essentially, eventually admitted, seven years after the deaths of both their mothers, that Mary and Elizabeth were both bona fides (enough so to inherit the crown, at any rate); just by different jurisdictions (Papal versus Anglican).

[jujutsusimp]

More than a weapon

🌸Gojo notices some change in his body due to his domesticated life with you and you love it.

Truly this is just a some self indulging fluff and cheesy romance but I needed it.

Content: Gojo x fem!reader, fluff, Gojo being insecure

“I really let myself go huh?”

You peek your head out of the book you are reading on the bed, watching Satoru look himself in the bedroom mirror, pinching a tiny bit of belly fat on his lower abdomen. This man is still carved like a Greek god, but finally, he has something more than muscles and skin.

“I will need to work on that,"  he muses absentmindedly, which makes you frown and answer instinctively: “Don’t you fucking dare.”

He raises an amused eyebrow at your intense declaration, looking at you with a teasing smile. “You like this, Babe?”, he demands with a chuckle while you let go of your book, getting up to embrace him. He doesn’t resist when you wrap your arms around him, burying your head in his chest.

"Yes, I do”, you state firmly with a pout, tightening your grip almost protectively.

“Yeah?”, he insists with a smile in his voice while he gently pets your hair.

“Yes…”, you assert, inhaling his scent, his odor is still discernible despite the flowery perfume of your soap. He always washes with your soap, and you love that. “I am working very hard for this, you know...”

He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrating against your face. “Are you trying to fatten me, my love?”, he says with a teasing voice.

“Not particularly”, you answer softly, feeling some kind of happy melancholia, “but this little belly, it’s proof of all the time you stayed hugging me on the bed instead of exercising...”, you start, peppering his rock hard abs with kisses. “… of all the time you stayed watching a movie with me instead of babysitting the whole sorcery world…” In your eyes, his body being slightly more relaxed is proof of your years of domesticated life together, and you cherish it.

You breathe deeply, digging a bit more your fingers in his back, noticing his hands had stopped petting you. In fact, he is really quiet, which is abnormal for him, and you raise your head to look at him. He appears so vulnerable right now that you feel your heart drop.

“I am allowed?”, his voice is barely a whisper, carrying so much emotions. So much fragility. You wished you had the strength to hug him harder. You wish you weren’t so small and you could shield him in your arms like he does with you. “Yes, yes you are, my love, of course you are. You are allowed to live for yourself… to let yourself go”, you affirm, echoing his first words.

“There are a lot of people counting on me, you know…”

You pout at his protestation, finally letting go of his torso to grab his cheeks. “I know, I am not telling you to stop saving the world, just that your whole life doesn’t have to revolve around your work.”

He seems deep in thought, hesitant, and you cut all further protestation by getting on your toes to plant a kiss on his face, until he is the one lifting you so he can kiss you back, loosing himself on your lips with a tranquil passion. There is no hurry in this kiss, just prolonged contact and devoted tenderness until he withdraws his head to contemplate you, his hands still grabbing you by the waist and upper thighs. There is so much love in those blue eyes, but also some doubts lingering.

“What are you worrying about, love?”, you ask softly, knowing he is still tormented. He looks confused, mumbling a bit as he thinks about it seriously for a moment. You don’t press him, caressing his hair gently in a soothing motion. Only an indecent amount of patience and love can make a man like him voice his insecurities.

“Useless… I don’t want to become useless.”, he finally admits lifting you a bit higher so he can bury his face on your chest and hide how troubled he looks right now.

He didn’t say powerless, or weak. He said “useless”. You contemplate his words for a second before kissing the top of his head affectionately. You still have a lot of work to do.

“You are not a weapon Satoru Gojo, you are a person, my lover, an incredible teacher, and a funny and passionate man. You don’t have to be useful, you have so much more to bring to the world than muscles and powers.”

You feel his grip tightening a bit on your body, almost painfully, but you don’t mind, closing your eyes while you dig your fingers into his hair.

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me yet, I will just repeat it until you know you are enough, you are wanted, you are loved strongest or not.” You hammered with an unwavering voice, holding all your stubborness for things that truly matter.

“Alright, alright”, he finally relents, his emotions vibrating in his voice but coated with sweetness. You look down at him, watching him lift his eyes out of your chest. “I believe you”

You smile proudly, borrowing his signature cocky smirk, which makes him smile fondly in return. Still holding you with one hand, he removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you with love. “I guess as long as I am strong enough to do that, it’s okay.”

You lift an eyebrow at his mischievous grin forming behind the tenderness. “Do what?”

Before you finish your sentence, he is making you twirl in the air into his arms, and you gasp, clinging at his hair to not fall with a delighted chuckle he soon echoes.

Yes, it was more than enough.

[a-simple-imagine]

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

[tacticaldiary]

Can you write something about Simon being a little to rough with reader and they end up having bad bruises so they hide it from Simon and when he finds out he goes a little crazy and won’t touch them until reader snaps and tells him they need his touch

Painless Bruises

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

It really wasn't a massive deal, but she knows Simon would withdraw if he saw the evidence he left behind on her.

Masterlist

It's almost as if the day had a personal grudge against her, bringing along the hottest day of the year the one time she has to wear something unsuitable for the weather.

She itches the skin of her neck that's not covered by her black turtleneck, the long sleeves of the shirt sticking uncomfortably to her skin as she runs laps around the training centre.

Bruises.

Hand shaped bruises circle her forearms, a deep set shade of purple, and a particularly nasty one lines her collarbone, just under the juncture of the slope of her shoulder.

Thankfully she can blame the heat that creeps up her face at the thought of how she got them on the intense cardio they were doing. They were set to be dropped off in Serbia for a mission in 6 days, so the 141 was busy preparing for clearing their physical evaluations before they were dispatched.

Skin against lips, and the rustling of sheets last night. Simon had just gotten back from a solo mission somewhere up north and they hadn't seen each other in over a fortnight. Needless to say, when they did get a moment alone in his room last night things had gotten a little more intense than usual.

Rough, calloused hands held her arms in place, heavy breaths and feelings that could not be put into words exchanged under the light of the moon. She hadn't minded his grip, it had just surprised her. Simon was not a gentle person by any means, rough around the edges and as standoffish as the definition could get, but he had never been harsh enough with her for the evidence to linger into the daylight.

When she'd woken up the next day, catching sight of her arms, guilt pooled in her gut. She didn't mind it, it's not like they hurt particularly bad, but she knew if Simon saw them he'd withdraw.

It was an instinctual feeling, but she knows she's right. Simon had...a difficult past, one he rarely shared with her but she'd heard enough to know that he'd never want to hurt the people he loved.

She was afraid that bruises inflicted by him, especially ones as ugly as these, would make him blank and pull away, or even worse: treat her like she's fragile.

She didn't want a gentle Simon, she wanted him in all his brash, rough glory.

"Come on Gaz, the lass is running circles around you!" Soap heckles as she passes him by. She can't help but stifle a snort when she hears Gaz yell back an insult, a good few paces behind her. Ghost was standing next to Soap, watching the pair finish their last lap. His eyes follow her, bore into her as she passes. Him staring quietly is nothing new, but she can feel the questions from his gaze from halfway across the room.

She'd slipped out of his room before he'd woken up, and had forgone meeting him in the mess hall for breakfast to figure out how exactly she was going to hide the marks from him.

Slowing down after her last lap, she plops down on the ground with a sigh, gulps down the water bottle Soap pushes in her hands, the cool water a nice reprieve from the sweltering heat and sweat. Going to tug her turtleneck away to let some air hit her throat, her fingers freeze on the fabric when she feels Ghost's gaze on her again. Slowly lowering her hand, she clears her throat and turns her attention to Soap and Gaz bickering.

"You've got a big mouth for someone who can't outrun me either, MacTavish." She snickers, making Gaz grin.

"We're both in second place, mate." The man laughs, clapping Soap on the shoulder before offering a hand to pull her up. She accepts gratefully, feeling her legs burn pleasantly from the exercise.

She doesn't anticipate Gaz grabbing her forearm to pull her up. He grips right over her bruises and tugs her to her feet. It's just her luck that she can't manage to swallow down the strangled, muffled sound of pain in the back of her throat.

"You alright there?" Gaz lets go of her, brows furrowing. Ghost seems to have moved closer, ever the silent person.

"Fine." She swallow, her arm stinging. "Just...got a stitch in my side." Waving off the grimace Soap gives her, she's about to move on, ask if any of them would want to hit the bar with her after this, when a gruff, low voice speaks up.

"Roll them up."

She blinks, her stomach twisting as she turns to look at her Lieutenant.

"I'm fine, Ghost-"

"I didn't ask." He cuts her off. "If you're injured, better to get it fixed than ignore it."

"Good thing I'm not injured then." She offers him a smile. The other two boys glance at each other.

"Sergeant." There's a sense of finality in his tone, from which she knows it's an order. Meeting his eyes, she silently pleads with him to change his mind, a staring contest with a brick wall. Resigning herself to her fate, she relents, taking a deep breath and gingerly rolling up her sleeves to her elbows.

The sharp hitch of Simon's breath is only apparent to her after months of leaning the tiny quirks of his body.

"Steamin' Jesus, how'd you mangle that up so bad?" Soap exclaims, grabbing her hand and turning it this way and that. Gaz whistled low, eyes narrowing.

"That's some nasty bruising " Gaz frowns. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." She snatches back her arm, shoving her sleeves back down. "Not as bad as it looks, trust me." Avoiding Simon's gaze is harder than it's ever been, but she chances a split second peek at his expression.

His eyes are the only part of his face visible, but they've always been the most expressive part of him if one knows his quirks. Right now? Right now Simon has the same look he sported when that building came down on Soap after one of his explosions malfunctioned from being rigged incorrectly.

Upset and muted horror. She can tell his brows are knitted tight under his mask, his jaw clenched because he knows.

"Medbay, now." Is all Ghost says, a hand on her shoulder leading her away from the group. Her protests fall on deaf ears as they exit the room, the others not questioning their Lieutenant.

The walk down the hallway is suffocating, and Simon's grip immediately retracts once they're outside. He takes a left down the hall and she hesitantly follows.

The medbay is to the right.

The barracks are secluded this time of the day, everyone out and about, so it's the perfect place to have this discussion. Not that she wanted to have it in the first place...

"Want to explain why you didn't tell me?" Is the first thing he says. He sounds angry, and only the most seasoned of his partners would recognise the edge of concern in his voice. "You think hiding something like that was a good idea?"

"I wasn't hiding it, I just-"

"Bullshit. I hurt you." He states, a flash of pain quicker than she can catch in his eyes. "Why didn't you say?"

"Because it's fine, Simon!" She exclaims, grabbing his arms, hoping he understands. "You didn't hurt me, we just...got a little carried away. It's alright, they don't hurt bad."

"I was too rough with you." A slightly strained voice that tugs at her heart. "Fuck, I'm sorry." The apology spilled out of his mouth unprompted, and for a moment she's left shocked because he's the last person to apologise for something unless absolutely necessary.

Which means he really believes he did something terrible.

"I forgive you." She says immediately. "There, problem solved, right?"

"No, that's not how this shit works." Simon clutches onto the back of his neck, agitated at himself. "I didn't...fuck, I didn't mean to..." Something dawns on him and he meets her eyes with a newfound sense of dread. "Where else?"

Her pause is enough to give him his answer.

"Show me." He demands.

"Simon-"

"Take it off." He tugs at the bottom of her shirt. His fingers never brush against her skin.

Taking a deep breath and seeing no way out of this, she lets her shoulder sag and concedes, shrugging off the turtleneck and leaving her in a short sleeved undershirt. His eyes snap to the bruising on her collarbone, his jaw tightening.

"Don't apologise again." She says when he opens his mouth to talk. "I'm not fucking fragile, Simon. I can take a hit or two, this is nothing."

It's the wrong thing to say, the worst thing to say judging by the way Simon instantly recoils, taking a step back at her words.

"I'd never hurt you on purpose. Never." He says quietly.

Ghost is a silent person. His footsteps never detected, melting in the shadows and slitting throats before anyone realises he's even there.

But he's not quiet. Never quiet. Never with her, at least.

"I know." She soothes, moving to close the distance but pausing when he shakes his head. "I worded that badly..."

"I wouldn't...I'm not-"

"You're nothing like your father." She states, pulling the words out to lay out for the both of them. "I trust you, Simon. I trust you every day with my life on the field, and my heart in our bedroom." She gestures to her bruises. "I don't blame you for any of this. The both of us were too occupied to pay attention to be considerate and hell, I liked it."

At his skeptical look, she continues on. "If it makes you feel better, the day you lay a hand on me is the day I beat your ass into the ground."

"I'd let you." He says gruffly, straightening up slowly.

Gently, he takes her hand, turning it over to bare her forearms. Gently brushing a thumb over the purple and blue, his eyes flicker to her face to scan for any discomfort. When he finds none, he directs his gaze back to the bruising, his mind somewhere else.

She lets him have a few moments of silence, knowing full well that this wouldn't be the end of this.

"I'm sorry." He says again, gently brushing his fingers over her collarbone. "Won't happen again, love."

                                · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

Their quick, secret touches throughout the day had always sparked her to life.

Whether that be a gentle brush of their arms while they walked down the hall, or a quick squeeze of a shoulder after a harsh day of training. Inconspicuous touches that carried more meaning to them that met the eye.

She can count on one hand how many times Simon has touched her over the past three days, even if four of her fingers were blown off.

It's frustrating. Always busy, never standing within the length to reach out and touch, always out of his room when she'd knocked and peered in at night. He'd redirect her whenever she tried to initiate anything, even a friendly hug. Once he'd legitimately stepped away from her, and she's not going to lie, but it stung a little.

Needless to say, she was itching to corner him.

As she waits outside the meeting room where he currently is with Price, she thinks about how she knew this would happen. She knew he'd withdraw and refuse to be near enough to touch her properly, and it's driving her up the wall because godammit she misses him.

He knows he's fucked the second he walks out, pinned with a glare that promises consequences if he doesn't follow her. With a quiet sigh, he trails behind her until they're in her room, the door clicking shut behind them.

"Did you need something, love?"

"Funny you should ask." She deadpans. "You drive me insane sometimes, you know that Simon Riley?"

It's a little funny how he straightens up with the use of his full name, more at attention. She'd have poked fun at him in she hadn't been as angry.

"Do you think I'm fragile, Simon?" She snaps. "That I'll break if you breathe on me? You've been practically ignoring me for three days, pulling away. Walking away." When she strides closer to him, he doesn't move back. "And I swear to all that is holy, if you don't stop with this bullshit, I'm going to well and truly snap."

A pause.

"Well, someone sounds desperate." The poor attempt at deflection makes her even angrier. She grabs his hands, guides them to her shoulders and squeezes hard. He lets her, watching quietly.

Quiet. God, she hates it when he's quiet.

"Touch me. Just...you won't hurt me, Simon." She sighs at the feeling of his hands on her, burning even through her shirt. "You know you won't, you're just afraid."

"Not afraid." He grunts, curling his fingers around her shoulder, something she considers a small win. She can feel his hands twitch with the desire to abandon his self control and pull her closer. It almost makes her smile to think the distance is impacting him just as much.

"Then what?"

"Just...wary."

"Well stop it, then." She huffs. "I need you, Simon. I can't go about my day knowing that my damn boyfriend won't touch me because he think I'm fine china."

"You're one of the best soldiers." He rolls his eyes. "You and I both know you're anything but breakable."

"Then quit acting like a selfless asshole and-" She cuts herself off with a gasp when his hands slide to her waist, pulling her into his body. Warm and all encompassing, her blood sings at the contact after so long.

"This is what you wanted?" He hums, finally conceding. She shivers, feeling his chest rumble under her cheek.

"Yes." She sighs. "See, wasn't so hard, was it?"

He doesn't answer for a moment, the both of them taking a second to settle back down into their skins, feeling the familiar press of dips and curves pressed against each other. She rests her cheek against his chest, hands coming up to grab onto his back.

"I'm alright, Simon." She whispers. "We're both okay."

His grip tightening around her like it usually does is the only answer she needs, the press of his lips onto her head through his mask making her sigh contentedly.

This.

This was more than okay.

Requests Are Open!

(03/07/2023)

[pandoraslxna]

❄️ Kinkmas — 05. On a mount ❄️

So‘lek x female human reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: they do it on a pali (direhorse), smut, p in v, dub-con, kidnapping, held hostage, enemies to lovers, size kink, cockwarming, ooc So‘lek because I wrote this before the game came out, it plays before he joined the resistance, language barrier

⋆｡° ✮ Translation: tawtute = human, sky person

In the realm of forbidden desires, where the line between right and wrong blurs, a seductive sin had woven her enchanting web and So’lek had found himself caught in your irresistible embrace.

The forbidden fruit dangled before him, tempting him with her intoxicating flavors. He didn’t know what had driven him to this act, but he felt a heady mix of excitement, curiosity, and temptation, uncaring of the consequences that laid ahead as he took this very specific tawtute with him.

So‘lek had never taken a hostage in all of his years of living. In all of his years of seeking revenge. The clicking of metal against metal around his neck was the cold, dead evidence of this.

But this tawtute… there was just something about you that was different. Something that made his blood stir and his nerves tingle like a live wire.

The demon whrites in his lap and So‘lek makes a soothing noise, hushed into your round little ear while the hands on your fragile hips tighten, keeping you from falling off where you’re seated.

"Hìpey [hold still]", he warns, but his tone remains calm and composed.

Every bounce of the palis hooves meeting the hard ground beneath pushes you further down on his cock and you mewl, muffled cries and moans against the cloth covering your mouth under your mask. Originally he had tied it there to keep you from screaming, had bound your wrists behind your back to keep you from trashing around. But now it’s to keep you still, to make it easier for himself to use your small, tight body for his own pleasure.

But by the way you clench around his length, he doubt that you doesn’t enjoy this just as much as he does.

So‘lek can feel your slick running down his shaft where he’s not fully seated inside you, your human body too small to take all of him at once. But the gallop of his pali did help ease the way further into you, without having to do much movement of his own.

"Nìsyep sìltsan, vrrtep [so good and tight, little demon]", he groans lowly, so close to your ear he felt the heat radiating off your skin. The flush that spreads over your cheeks makes you feel all tingly. You don’t know what exactly he’s saying to you, but the deep raspy voice hushing these foreign words into your ear is enough to make you understand his intentions.

A particularly hard shove of the pali as it galloped over thick branches made your clit brush over the leathery sattle and you cried out in bliss, the whiny sound muffled and helpless.

One of So’lek‘s arms pulled you closer against him at this, so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder and watch his own hands dip between your thighs. Rough fingers slide through your folds and around his own cock where he’s halfway nestled inside you, smearing your arousal back and forth, before he locates your clit.

"Nìtxan mei [you‘re so wet]", he says, "ayngenga asim? [are you close?]"

There comes no response, but he doesn’t need one anyways. Your squirming and the clenching around his length is all he needs as confirmation, so he begins to circle that little bundle of nerves that makes your breathing pick up rapidly.

So‘lek wishes he could understand the few words you actually manage to force out through the woven cloth covering your mouth, the ones that sound like pleas and begs for him, possibly. You just sound so sweet as you fall apart on his cock, it makes him wonder how tasting such a forbidden fruit, a little demon like you, could feel so heavenly.

Rocking with the gentle sway of his palis movement, So‘lek relishes in the pulsing of your walls around him, the wet, rhythmic throbbing and squeezing that massages his cock like you intend to milk him for all his worth. But while you fall slack in his arms with a shuddering gasp, he decides to keep his composure for a while longer, just for the favor of staying like this. At least, until he arrives back at his tent, where he can properly burry himself inside you.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hiyaa!! i LOVE!!! your poly!maraduers x reader fics. i was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader has had an absolute horrid week and just got their period and our sweet boys comfort us bc of how good boyfriends they are 🥹🙏

-🌻

thanks for requesting! I hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: period cramps/symptoms, hurt/comfort

1k words

Your eyes were pinched tightly as you clutched your stomach, easing and tightening your hold as the pain ebbed and flowed. You had been feeling crummy all week with no explanation until you were getting ready to take a shower last night and saw the red rorschach stains on your thighs. Thankfully, you hadn’t bled on anything, but you still took extra care to check everywhere you had been sitting. After your panic had subsided, the previous few days had made sense. There had been a grating brick in the bottom of your stomach and a slimy feeling you couldn’t scrub from your skin. Either in addition to or because of these physical feelings, you had been particularly fragile. Your boyfriends had noticed your state, but you never confessed your emotions since there was no clear source, at least, until now. 

You were curled into yourself on the couch, as if the more condensed you were the less pain you would feel. You were nauseous to the point of not being able to stomach pain medicine. You had showered last night but still felt disgustingly greasy. There was a book open on the arm of the couch that you had been pretending to read, but eventually had no energy to continue. Remus was in the armchair next to you with his own book, while James mindlessly flicked through the television channels and Sirius sat in front of the coffee table with an array of snacks before him. They were leaving you mostly alone, probably assuming you were trying to sleep. Another cramp fizzed through your body and you winced, a small whimper escaping. Nearly silent, but Remus’ sharp hearing picked it up. He looked at you, clearly expecting some kind of obvious injury. 

“What’s wrong, dovey?” He looked like he was in pain himself. Remus was all too familiar with pain, but the idea of any of his loved ones hurting was enough to cause instant panic within him. 

“Nothing, I’m fine-” You almost had the sentence out when another cramp hit, making you screw your face up and inhale sharply. Sirius spun around at your reaction. You curled in on yourself further, tensing your stomach. 

“What’s going on with you?” Sirius had his rare no-nonsense tone. When you didn’t give a response he tried to pry your arms away from your torso, but you whined and scooted away. 

“I said it’s nothing.” You wanted to snap but you sounded too pitiful to have your desired effect.

“Hey. I’m not fucking around.” Sirius kept trying to inspect you, his brain clearly already at the worst case scenario. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Pads, calm down.” James scolded before turning his attention to you. “Let us help you, sweetheart.” He coaxed. You huffed, abandoning your hopes of being modest. 

“It’s really nothing serious. Just some uh, cramping. From… you know.” You tried to smile. The boys confused, and then quickly relieved but they still didn’t go back for their previous activities like you hoped they would.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Sirius slumped. “I thought you had fucking appendicitis or something.” 

“I think if I had appendicitis it would be a lot worse.”

“I don’t know, lovely girl.” Remus reached over both the arms of his chair and the couch to pet your head. “It looks like you’re hurting pretty badly.” He cooed a sad sound when you winced in pain again. 

“Have you taken anything?” James stood up, already heading to the bathroom medicine cabinet. 

“Not yet.” You said, feeling Remus’ wordless chiding. You could already hear what he wanted to say. ‘You have to get ahead of the pain, dovey.’ You took the pill bottle from James. 

“Have you eaten yet? You can’t take those on an empty stomach.” Remus reminded you. You sighed again, not from cramps this time. 

“No.” You said shamefully. Now you were being judged by the other two boys. 

“Baby,” James groaned, walking towards the kitchen now. Sirius was already shoving a package of mini muffins towards you. “Why?”

“My stomach hurt too much. I couldn’t get up.” You pouted, slowly chewing a muffin. 

“That was when you should’ve asked one of us.” Remus’ gentle bossy tone came out, the way it does when he’s feeling especially protective. 

“I would’ve been fine.” You reasoned. “I get this every month, it’s nothing out of the norm.” 

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. Do you think it doesn’t hurt for Remus every month?” Sirius had a charcoal-drawn brow raised. 

“That’s different!” You floundered. “Of course it hurts for him.” You got instantly emotional. “I wasn’t saying that.” 

“Pads,” Remus huffed before turning back to you. “I know you weren’t. But you see the point. It still hurts for you.” 

“ And we still wanna look after you.” James appeared with a glass of water and a hot water bottle for your stomach. You took the medicine while he fixed the heat over your abdomen. When he was done he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled. 

“Don’t thank me, darling.” He said, stroking your hair from your face. You jumped again when Sirius climbed on top of you without warning. 

“Siri! What are you doing?” You squealed as he settled his face into your neck.

“Lovin’ on you.” He said as it was the obvious answer.

“I’m disgusting right now.” You groaned, pushing his shoulders to shove him off. He just dead weighted and pulled you in closer. 

“Not possible, you’re mine.” He argued. James scoffed. 

“Oi! Not just yours!” James shoved Sirius away so he could kiss all over your scrunched face. You all but shrieked before he stopped, turning his attention to the TV remote. Sirius turned the two of you so you were on your sides, your back to his front facing the television. His hand was holding the hot water bottle to your stomach. Remus closed his book and laid on his side. His tall frame was folded in a way that was probably aching, but he still held it. He settled his head on the arm of his chair, nearly touching yours and Sirius’. 

“Are you feeling better, sweet thing?” Sirius asked quietly. 

“I do. Thank you.” You sounded awfully sleepy. 

“Wow. You two just shamelessly took advantage of the situation to turn us into the napping house.” James was trying to sound scolding but it just came out as affection. 

“It’s called being supportive, Prongs.” Sirius sassed, but you and Remus were already out. 

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

kinktober day 001 | CW!wanda x beefy!avenger!reader

after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed.

cont. mild non-con, vaginal fingering, begging, daddy kink

word count. 1390

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

"Fucking arrogant men and their fragile masculinities," you grumble in frustration, forcefully ramming the keys into the keyhole and unlocking the door.

It had been another hellish day of dealing with Tony Stark and Steve Rogers’ clashing personalities. The result of their foolishness meant a mission going haywire and taking about seven more hours than it should’ve.

As expected, you were pissed off. You shrug off your leather jacket, revealing a tight-fitting tactical suit, and then you kick off your shoes. Trudging up the stairs with your mind still in a fit of hazy anger, forcing open the door to your bedroom–

Seeing your pretty girl half-naked on your bed and deep in slumber.

You physically feel your chest relax, shoulders drooping as you exhale slowly. The burning heat that was fury subsides and the smaller flames burn in a different kind of lustful way.

Wanda was asleep in one of your old SHIELD shirts, which was about three sizes too big for her. Her cute, stiff nipples were poking through the fabric that was tight around her big chest, and the addition of tiny sleeping shorts made her all the more tempting.

"Bunny," you whisper, quietly crawling onto the bed, scared to ruin the serene silence.

Along the way, you unzip your tactical suit and toss it into a forgotten corner of the room, leaving you in just a pair of black boxer briefs and a sports bra. You puff out a breath of hot air as you slide into bed with Wanda, dragging the sheets over the two of you as your arms envelop your smaller girlfriend.

The little witch was the small spoon nearly all the time, not that you were complaining. You revelled in the feeling of enveloping Wanda in your arms, protecting her and keeping her safe.

Of course you also enjoyed the other benefits of having your hands so close to your girlfriend’s chest.

Wanda lets out sleepy little noises as she unconsciously shifts closer into your embrace, evidently still fast asleep with the slow rising and falling of her chest.

Her head fits under yours like a satisfying puzzle piece, her head of brown hair tucked under your jaw like it was meant to be. You lean down in the slightest to inhale her sweet scent of lavender soap, pressing a soft kiss on her head afterwards.

You can feel your residing anger gradually fading away, but the tension is still written between the lines and you can’t seem to erase them: in the furrowing of your brows or your tightened grip, in your uneven breaths or your racing mind.

Eventually, your hands creep up Wanda’s shirt, seeking that stress relief like it was second nature.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly, upon actively feeling Wanda’s lack of a bra, rough hands meeting soft mounds that you so loved to caress.

Today is no different, with you kneading her breasts, perhaps even a little rougher than usual. 

Fat spills from your fingers as your greedy hands seek more, the tips of your fingers pulling at her hardened buds. A low rumble sounds in your chest at the cute, affected noise Wanda lets out. 

However, she remains asleep, and you’re free to do whatever you please.

Soon enough, your mouth seeks out the sensation of warm skin, and your teeth find solace in the column of her porcelain neck. Leaving love-bites in different shades of red across Wanda’s skin, she stirs in your grasp, squirming slightly.

Your movements never cease. In fact, you get more eager at the prospect of your girlfriend waking up to such a dirty sight: you greedily groping her tits with your crotch pressed flush against her ass.

“Need you so bad, bunny,” you grunt, knowing Wanda can’t hear you, but having the criminal urge to voice out all the perverse things you were going to do to her.

Smoothly, one of your hands glide down the expanse of her torso and beyond the hem of her sleeping shorts. You’re met with the lace of a pair of panties — but nothing turns you on more than the growing wet spot you find that covers Wanda’s pretty little cunt.

“You’re so needy for me even in your sleep, hm, baby?” you ask heatedly, your other hand remaining up her shirt to massage her tits. It had been too long without having her like this, and you craved to memorise every crease of her lithe figure before your next mission.

Impatiently, you rub your fingers on that wet spot on Wanda’s panties, the growing slick making your fingers wet through the fabric. Your girlfriend emits little cries of discomfort at your unending teasing, turning in her sleep as your hand forcefully enters the threshold of her panties.

“Fuck, bunny,” you growl into her neck, two fingers finding her wet heat and then plunging inside.

It’s the sensation of your thick fingers pushing into her slick cunt that has Wanda awakening with a start.

“Y/N!” Wanda gasps out, high-pitched and breathy. You can imagine her eyes darting around the darkened room, only to register your vice grip around her body, one hand up her shirt and the other down her pants.

“Shh, bunny, go back to sleep,” you say, low and inviting. Wanda’s too sleepy to discern the affected tone of your voice.

“C-can’t sleep when y-you’re touching me,” she whimpers, velvet walls clenching the thick length of your fingers. She’s squirming so much in your grasp, but you’re so much stronger physically and she can’t get out of it.

“Sorry, bunny,” you lie easily, fingers still exploring her tight little cunt. “Five minutes, kay?”

Wanda lets out an incoherent whine when your finger brushes against a sensitive spot. “Too tired, Daddy,” she answers, adorably sleepily.

Yet, Wanda’s body instinctively attempts to arch off the bed when you harshly tug at her nipple, rigid to your touch. “Oh,” she moans, legs spreading wider unconsciously.

“So fuckin’ needy,” you repeat, your left hand thrusting deeper into her tight cunt. Your mouth is now on the juncture of her neck and her shoulder, a quickly purpling bruise making its mark. “Fuck, baby, let me make you cum, okay?”

Wanda tries to protest, the stimulation already too much for her partially unconscious body, but you take her shallow pants as a ‘yes’ and slide in another finger.

Wanda mewls at the intrusion, the familiar feeling of a tightening knot in her lower stomach making itself known. “Daddy,” she whimpers helplessly, fingernails clawing at your iron-hard forearm packed with muscle.

“Yes, bunny?” you pant, moving your three fingers in tight little circles, Wanda’s slick coating them. You were trapped in a headspace of lust, only aiming to make your pretty little girlfriend squirt all over the sheets.

“Please?” Wanda begs mindlessly, her desperate tone making your head spin. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for anymore; maybe it was for you to stop, or maybe it was for you to bring her to a long-awaited high.

“Mhm,” You take her plea as the latter, harshly curling your three fingers inside her tight pussy, your other hand flicking at her rubied nipple. Just like that, and Wanda lets out a choked noise of pleasure as she cums. 

Your grip on her never lightens as Wanda throws her head back onto your shoulder, thrashing as wave after wave of an orgasm washes over her body. Her fingernails dig crescent-shaped imprints into your forearm.

“My pretty girl,” you whisper, fingers continuing in slow rocking motions so Wanda can ride out her high. Her body is too warm under the sheets, lightning-sensitivity overtaking her body, but Wanda feels if she leaves your grasp she’d simply melt into nothingness.

You listen as the erratic breathing of your girlfriend gradually evens out. “Still tired?” you ask, the low husk of your voice raising goosebumps along the shell of Wanda’s ear. 

Wanda only uses both of her hands to drag your left hand back up her body and to her mouth. Grinding her ass into your crotch, her pretty lips wrap around your fingers and suck, suck her own juices off your fingers and into her mouth.

That’s all the confirmation you need before flipping the two of you over, pressing your body weight into Wanda’s front.

It was going to be a long night.

so... how do we feel about day 1 of kinktober??

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[bits-and-babs]

i need breeding kink!konig before i cryy also w small reader eeee

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃, 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃

pairing : könig x f!reader ('perle')

synopsis : könig snaps after a particularly hard mission, unable to hold back his desire much longer.

warnings : [ 1k words ] Emotional distress, unprotected pinv sex, utterly pathetic könig, breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation, cum eating, reference to oral (f receiving). könig is a babbling mess.

notes: this is pure filth. barely any mention of small reader because i like to be inclusive <33

König’s combat boots drag across the floorboards of your shared apartment, depositing clumps of dried Spanish mud across the oak with each weary trudge of his feet. Your boyfriend carries his body over the house threshold like a wounded hound, his tail between his legs and eyelids still splotched with patchy grease paint. König is prideful, usually holding his gigantic frame with a regal posture to match his name– you’ve never seen him so crippled by what he’d promised would be a straightforward mission, in and out.

You open your mouth to ask, to say his name, to offer your support, noting the way König didn’t take his shoes off at the door like he always did. He doesn’t let you, his prodigious forearms encircling your waist with a vice-like grip.

“Just give me this, Perle. I need nothing else,” he promises you, his accent delicate to your ears when he whispers his plea into your hair. Clutching him tight, you liberate the breath you’d held hostage between the bars of your ribcage since König left. You’d been fearful, as always, that the oxygen in your lungs would serve a life sentence, but when your lungs expand again, aching at the edges, you smell his exertion, the earthiness of the mud that clung to his body, the gunpowder he’d expended while taking lives. He’s home.

“König,” you whisper to him, scared a louder decibel would rip apart the fragile foundations that kept the hefty Austrian upright. He shakes his head in response, his palms pawing at your hips, squeezing at the flesh he finds with overwrought neediness.

“Please, Perle,” he murmured, his voice cracking beneath the tide of his emotional turmoil, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass to pull your body closer, “I just need you. Need you close- need to be in you.”

It’s jarring, the distress you feel roiling inside the tense muscles of his back that you skirt your palm over not matching the dripping desire that coated his tongue. When you lean back in his grip, attempting to catch a glimpse of your lover’s eyes, he pulls you impossibly closer. The thread-worn material of his battle-tested uniform is soft against your skin, but the firmness of his cock against you is undeniable.

“Anything,” you whisper, and it’s as though you’ve let the hounds loose. König launches you over his shoulder, ignoring your squeals of shock, and hurries towards the bedroom with absurdly broad strides.

☆ ☆ ☆

He chokes out a string of unintelligible German curse words when he finally bottoms out inside of you. König’s hands, webbed with silver scars that spanned across his knuckles, grasp at your hips and angle them skyward, his thighs flexing as he attempts to keep still for a moment.

“Hahh-ah- Still, Schatzi, be still,” he urges you brokenly. You wail, winded by the sensation of his preposterously thick cock spearing your cunt. It lays deep inside you, nudging at your cervix when it twitches. “S-Still-“

Statuesque, you haven’t moved a nanometre. It’s König, his face buried deep into the crook of your neck, mindlessly pushing his hips deeper into you with shallow thrusts. They’re barely there, slight and feeble, as he dramatically gasps out each time the sensitive tip of his dick brushes your cervix.

“Aha-Haaa, please, please, Perle,” he keens, his rumbling voice strained by his frantic desire. His fingertip pushes into the swollen nub of your clit, and it draws dangerously lazy circles over the sparking nerves there. You sob his name weakly, almost missing his rambled plea. “So tight- your cunt is so tiny for me, Perle. Ughh-fuck- let me cum in it? L-Let me fill it up, watch it spill out of you-“

Your back arches from the mattress as he withdraws his hips slightly, only to plunge them deeper. It’s ludicrous, you think, the way your body gives way to his ridiculous intrusion, but your toes curl with delight, and König wails out another string of profanity.

“Hah-sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” he babbles, his cock rocking in and out of you but never once entirely withdrawing from your heat, “I just need to fill this cunt, Perle. Need to see it leak– See you swollen with our child– fuck!”

König spits a broken moan when your hips arch to meet his thrusts. Your clit brushes his pubic bone with each joining of your hips, hurtling you towards orgasm and tightening your walls with bliss.

“So tight, so fu-huhhking tight, Perle– Fuck!” König gasps, his hips stuttering as he braces for your answer.

“Yes,” you whine, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm threatens to crash through you in a tidal wave, “Please, König, please fucking fil–“

König cuts off your appeal with a hoarse cry of your name, his whole body trembling with the force of his orgasm as his cock spurts thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside of your cunt. The warmth of the blooming pressure inside you sparks a blissful throb, your nails sinking into König’s forearms as it detonates inside you. You hear him through the mind-blowing buzz, wailing and sobbing about how you’re milking him, how it’s dripping from your cunt and into the bedsheets.

It’s hazy when the overwhelming euphoria floats down, König still hunched over your body and thrusting inside of you helplessly. His jaw hangs loose, eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of agonising pain and paradisical ecstasy as he fucks his cum deeper into you.

“Hahah-Ahhh fuck, c-creaming all o-ohhhver my cock-“he slurs, his removing his oversensitive cock with a pathetic sob. His fingers sink into your cunt almost instantly, ignoring the curl of your toes and the arch of your back to stuff the dribbling cum back inside of your fluttering pussy.

“Need it to take, Perle,” König garbles, his eyelids heavy as he sinks low to the mattress to swipe up the remaining excess with his tongue. He mumbles around your pussy as he laps up his cum from its glistening lips, “Jus’ lift your hips, Schatz. Sit them on my face; I want to taste us–“

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[gemissleeping]

Sea Foam

Theodore Nott x Siren!Reader

Summary: One night a month, you’re unable to control the abilities you inherited from your siren Mother. Taking refuge at the Black Lake, you hope for that night to pass in peace. Until Theodore Nott discovers you sitting by the edge of the lake just as the full moon rises.

Length: 1.5k

Notes: Brash Theo (heart eyes), angst (i live for the drama), no proof read, slight allusion to cannibalistic desire. Not smutty just saucy. Keeping you fed with my niche day dreams. Short series please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Salt wafted through the air as the sharp cliffs of the rock below you cut through the thin cotton of your nightdress. It felt as though you may as well be wearing nothing at all. The breeze was picking up now. Full moon approaching the midnight sky. You dreaded this night each month, when the moon would rise in its completeness and you would lose all reins you had on your mind. It had been that way since you had turned thirteen, and it hadn’t ever stopped since.

You let out a sigh as goosebumps erupted across your skin and your toes made contact with the dry sand. It was the pits of winter and the sand always felt closer to ice chips than anything else this time of year. The moon continued its unrelenting rising and you knew it was only a matter of minutes now.

One foot planted in the sand, you readied yourself to approach the shoreline before the sound of footsteps behind you caused you to falter. You glanced back to where the sounds were emanating from anxiously. Hair falling over your near-bare shoulders as you searched the darkness, the distinct feeling of being watched making your throat tighten. No one else should’ve been out near the Black Lake this time of night.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” a deep voice echoed your thoughts from the shadow ridden tree line of the bank.

You blinked back at the shadows until a red glow became visible. At first you weren’t sure what you were looking at, but as your eyes adjusted you found yourself studying the end of a lit cigarette. It wasn’t a particularly helpful clue, half of the school smoked like chimneys.

“Neither should you,” you called back softly to the figure, still lurking in the tree line. “You need to leave.”

Urged by the pull you felt from the Lake’s depths tugging at your chest, you glanced hurriedly back to the moon where it was inching closer.

“Please.”

You turned back, eyes brimming with swallowed fear as you silently pleaded with the figure, who had now stepped out from the tree line. He was tall, hair falling in messy brown curls around his face.

Theodore Nott’s dead-eyed stare only made the material of your nightdress feel thinner beneath his calculating gaze. A cigarette hung lazily between his curious lips as he watched you, leaning against a tree.

“Why’s that?” He breathed in a cloud of smoke; cigarette mixed with chilled air.

The pull tugged at you again and your grip on the rock tightened momentarily. Something he clearly didn’t miss from the way his eyes dragged downward.

You clenched your jaw, knowing no answer you could give would satisfy him and that time was escaping you. You tried to keep your voice even but the shudder was audible.

“Because I asked nicely.”

Theo frowned at the shake in your voice, taking note of the fear that had leaked through your eyes. He took a step towards you, and the motion propelled you, pushing you off of the rock.

You spun to face him, stumbling back towards the water’s edge. Unsteady as the pull became more unbearable, urging you to the lake as you pressed your heels into the sand.

“Please Theo,” your voice sounded fragile against the wind, control dwindling.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step towards you, discarding his cigarette with a curious frown. Hands shoved deep into his pockets against the chill as the wind made your nightdress dance.

You glanced behind you, where the water was trying to lick at your skin. Fear crawled its way up your throat, alongside desire.

The crunch of sand ahead of you drew your attention back to Theo. In your distraction he had found his opportunity, now standing before you, only a breath away. His movement startled you, and you took one, thoughtless, step back into the lake.

A sharp inhale was all it took before your lips had parted and your eyes had snapped up to his. Feeling all semblance of control unraveling as he watched you curiously.

Your fear melted into something far more dangerous as irregular breaths frantically tore through your chest. Fighting glazed eyes, you latched onto his from where he studied you. You could feel yourself slipping away slowly, body in control as you became aware of yourself taking another unsteady step back into the lake.

Theo’s eyes darkened with concern as you fled further. The water lapped at your legs, staining the bottom of your white nightdress. Feeling nothing but need burning through you as the moon took a hold completely, eyes blown out.

His hand found your wrist as you stepped back from him again, further into the Lake. A strange mix of confusion and longing in his unrelenting gaze as he stared, tall above you. Clouds of your breath dancing across one another’s cheeks as he grew nearer.

It was too late for the both of you. The water was drawing you in the same way you were now unwillingly luring him. He made no attempt to resist as you backed further into the lake. Instead letting you lead him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. You could feel yourself trying to break through, to tell him to run. But that part of you was buried deep now, instead you waded further.

The wind picked up, a surge heading towards you as the lake grew rough. It brushed across your waist, bringing you to a stop as Theo closed in on you. With each wave you felt your mind washing away, filled only with him and the need to be deep below the surface of the lake. To drag him down there with you.

Theo’s hand released your wrist gently, traveling down to your fingertips as his other slid around your waist. You were both frozen for a moment, chests heaving as you were utterly transfixed by the other, before you crashed your lips against his.

Hands snaking around his neck to thread viciously through his hair as he lifted you, pressing your chest to his. You were hungry for him, a kind of hunger that you knew wouldn’t be eased by a kiss. His lips moved against yours with equal fever as you consumed each other, unable to breathe unless it was him.

Your bodies pressed against each other with urgency as you felt him gasping into your mouth, hands tangling in the fabric of your nightdress. The water pulled you again, as Theo pulled at the fabric, tongue slipping past your lips. Both came undone.

As Theo unknowingly led the two of you further into the depths of the Lake, you felt your skin changing. Scales sewing themselves across your skin as your legs gave way to fins. His lips not leaving yours for a second as your kiss only grew more desperate. Teeth tugging at his lips, you pulled at his bottom lip. Eliciting a breathy groan from the boy, which was muffled as he kissed you back roughly.

The water was at your chest now, and if he had noticed the sudden change to your body he gave no acknowledgment of it. Continuing to hold you tightly to him as you drew him further into you, the torn remains of your nightdress floating to the shore. Arms pressed against the back of his neck as you leaned back towards the surface.

Just as the water was about to swallow you both, one of his hands came to rest against your cheek. It was gentle, careful, and the feeling of his rough fingers trailing across your skin hit you like a rush of air. Eyes flying open you clawed your way back to the surface of your mind. Both of your hands falling to his chest and pushing him back roughly.

He surged away from you in the water, stumbling back and blinking with confusion. Both of you staring at one another in shock as he took in the water around him, the sight of you before him as though he was seeing it properly now. Breathing the harsh winter air in half-breaths as you both desperately tried to fill your lungs.

You could feel your eyes glazing over, and you did your best to fight the feeling as the guilt set in. Lips quivering slightly, you tried to blink back the grip the moon had over you as you floated a few steps away from him, struggling to remain on the surface. But it was no use, this wasn’t something you could simply control.

It took your last remaining strength to push yourself away, disappearing beneath the surface of the lake with the flick of your tail and the force of the moon bearing down on you. Leaving Theo above, his shirt see-through and half unbuttoned in the water. Lips swollen with desire and panting with confusion.

Read Chapter Two here

[snipersfucker]

An apology, but we all want to read how they are inside and possibly the Autobots lose control when what they have been imagining for so long happens (like Mirage / Bee / or Optimus) you made us addicted to you writing

there are special little places where yall can get help with your addiction!! im not the remedy!! (i bite the walls every single time i get a compliment) ALSO lets just pretend bees vocal cords werent ripped out to the point he couldn't moan like a slut :) dubcon:/

Bee was desperate.

The way your hips swayed when you walked, the way the soft tone of your voice echoed in the insides of his helm, the way you'd wrap your fragile fingers around his steering wheel and squeeze it ever so slightly in a playful manner—he needed you.

And one day, after spending countless nights on imagining you stretched out on his throbbing spike, your tits bouncing with every slap of his hips against your bare ass, he finally got the honour of actually seeing you underneath him, not just picturing it in his mind.

Bee was desperate for you, but he was also shy. Which meant that you had to initiate all the talks, all the touches, and all the kisses. However, when he finally understood that he had you exactly where he wanted you, and when he heard you vocalise your desire for him, he just couldn't stop himself.

The soft exchange of pecks on each others' lips turned into a heated make-out session, his glossa quickly asking for permission to slip into your mouth just so he could get a proper taste for the first time. His metal body began overheating as soon as he felt your body straddling his lap, your legs on both side of his hips. Your bold move made him only crave more of your touch, him barely able to restrain himself from just having his way with you, manhandling you until you'd beg for him to stop absolutely ruining you for the pleasure of you both.

And he wanted to continue making a mess with his lips on yours, especially when you were making so many sweet noises just for him... But he had to take things further, feeling like his spark might just explode if he didn't.

So he pulled away slowly, making eye contact with you for just a mere second, only to see the needy expression on your face, which gave him a silent permission to jump right into what he'd planned to do. His lips quickly found their place on the side of your neck, his servos landing on your hips, subconsciously pushing your core into his abdomen to create more friction between you.

He began licking, kissing, nibbling, and sucking the skin gently into his intake to create pretty bruises on your neck which would show anyone that you belonged to him.

Your breaths were getting heavier, much more chaotic, them hitching in your throat every time he paid special attention to a particularly sensitive spot. Your needy whimpers were mixing with the sound of his vents trying to stop him from overheating, his reaction to you making you want more of him than you already had.

And you didn't know you already had him whole. He was yours.

"Bee, please..." you whined, your eyes closed shut, hands on both of his shoulders with a strong grip which he didn't mind at all.

Your words made him transform the area under his abdomen, now a hard spike on full display, its length slapping against your stomach with every intense throb. He didn't stop taking care of your neck for even a second, every whimper and groan of desperation being muffled by your skin as he continuously planted wet kisses all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

He was growing impatient.

His spike touching you was sending constant pleasurable electric shocks down his bipedalism cord, his spark nearly exploding when you grinded against it with your clothed core.

The grip of his digits on your hips tightened, and you'd probably have endless bruises on your sweet, soft skin tomorrow, and this thought should've made him feel at least a tad bad but he adored knowing that he left something while doing such sinful things with you.

When you moved and brushed against his length again, he groaned in impatience, pulling away just to lift the hem of your loose shirt with his digit to signal to you that he needed it off. You made eye contact with him as you got rid of the piece of clothing on your upper half. But it wasn't enough for him—he had to have you naked against him, every inch of your warm, human skin against his hot, metal one.

Before his digit moved to the waistline of your pants, you were already unbuttoning and unzipping them, getting out of his lap just to be able to take them off fully alongside with your panties, them ending up somewhere on the floor, probably next to your shirt.

His optics immediately shot to your cunt, the temptation to put his spike inside you overwhelming his body. He didn't even wait patiently for you to get back onto his lap on your own, as soon as he stopped devouring the sight of you in front of him in just a bra, he immediately pulled you towards him with both servos on your hips again, placing you on his lap, exactly where you belonged at that moment.

Now your bare core was brushing against his spike, and he couldn't refrain himself from letting a couple of desperate noises roll off him glossa. You decided to undress fully for him, taking your bra off and tossing it onto the pile of long forgotten clothes. His optics could barely take in the view before his lips found themselves on your tits, his intake giving attention to both, switching from teasing, licking and kissing the left one to doing exactly the same to the right one. Your hardened nipples made it possible for him to gently bite them, making you buckle your hips and moan his name shamelessly, your own noises not allowing you to hear your thoughts, as if there was anything else on your mind other than how good Bee's glossa felt when it curled up on your nipple, it getting sucked into his intake.

The remains of self-control he could find within himself were slipping through his digits, the force of his touches increasing with every passing second. At the same time, he was also getting more and more intense reactions from you, your body craving more as it pressed against his.

Bee groaned, impatience getting the better of him, as he wrapped his arm around your fragile, human body, lifting you up with your chest still to his.

He moved fast like a starving man, placing you gently on the hard floor of the garage, its coldness radiating to your body, adding a completely new sensation. You arched your back, exposing your chest even more to him, hoping he'd put his mouth on your already swollen and sensitive nipples, but he seemed to have other plans when, without a heads-up, he grabbed the back of both your thighs, and lifted up your hips so that now the only body parts of yours making contact with the cement underneath you were your upper back and your head.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as you bit your lip to stop yourself from whimpering at the absolutely sinful sight of Bee kneeling down and hovering over you, spreading your legs and holding them pressed to your chest for better access to your dripping cunt.

You felt the tip of his spike teasing your hole which has been clenching over nothing for the past couple of minutes, finally about to get what it needed the most. And then, with one swift motion, Bee slid into you, the wet sound of his length entering your core echoed against the walls of your head.

A loud moan escaped the depths of your throat, lips parted, eyes closed themselves shut before you could even stop them, wanting to watch as the robot began trying to bottom out inside your warm cunt, but unfortunately his spike was too big for you to take for now.

It felt good. The pain from being so suddenly stretched out around him mixed with the pleasure from his spike hitting all the sweet spots inside you with the very first thrust of his hips.

Bee felt as if he no longer had control over his own body, the feeling of you wrapped around him, your warm cunt so inviting to just ruin it without second thoughts. And he could find absolutely no strength within himself to stop the almost animalistic desire to make you his in every meaning of this word.

His optics were trained on your face for mere seconds before his gaze shifted to the place where your bodies connected, your cunt covered in your own slick, the hole visibly stretched out to take his spike, even if it was only a half of his full length.

The idea of pushing the entire thing in only made him groan, the images of the bulge in your lower stomach he'd create flashing in front of his optics.

He threw his head back when he felt you clench around him, the sensation too much to handle.

You knew he was about to begin pounding into you as if it was the only thing he was made to do, the expression on his face and the look he was giving you the entire time confirming it.

"Bee..." you whined his name, not being fully aware what that sweet tone of your voice was doing to him.

So he just positioned himself better, pressing your thighs harder to your chest, taking almost the entire length of his spike out of your begging cunt, only to slam into you and put even more of him inside you.

You couldn't even control the noises escaping you anymore, your head thrown back because of the overwhelming pleasure.

Bee has had enough of waiting, the memory of him sitting in the corner of this garage, his spike in his servo as he kept fisting himself, overloading onto the hard floor multiple times just to get some relief after having to watch you walk around in your damned little dresses, your hips innocently swaying, your tits deliciously bouncing with every step.

Before you could register it, the robot was destroying your needy cunt with aggressive pounding, feeling as if he able to put more and more inches inside you with every slam of his hips against your ass.

His speed and the way he could hit all the best spots, even though the tip of his spike was kissing your cervix, made you constantly moan out loud, as if the walls of the garage were soundproof.

He kept making noises as well, although his were much deeper, more frustrated, as if he was chasing something he was so closed to catch but right before getting it, it'd just slip away from him.

He thought of this moment for a long time, the pink transfluid painting his servos on many occasions as he was imagining you in this exact position underneath him, squirming in pleasure.

But then, he came up with an even better idea, his body immediately following through, without even analysing it. He stopped mercilessly pounding into you just to manhandle you on your stomach, lifting your backside by your hips, spreading your legs to allow him to penetrate your needy cunt even more deeply. He positioned himself over you, his spike yet again pressing against your core for just a second before finally entering you once more. He didn't even waste time on preparing you to take him, just like the first time he pushed his length inside your pussy.

Now he had the opportunity to properly grope and slap your ass as much as he pleased, his hips constantly hitting it with every hard thrust he'd make. Tears began forming in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being so perfectly stuffed by his spike making you shudder, moan and squirm beneath him.

His movements were rapid and chaotic, but he never slowed down, only increasing his speed, making mental notes of the noises you were making while he was fucking you so good.

"Bee, 't hurts..." you whimpered weakly in-between your loud, slutty moans, him taking it as an encouragement to continue ruining your cunt which was now clenching around him more than ever before. His one servo went to the back of your head tilted to the side, his digits gently stroking your hair as if it was supposed to help ease the pain mixing with pleasure, while the other one was still on your hip, pulling your body towards him at the same time he was pushing at it, making your skins hit each other with even more force.

You told him it hurt you but he couldn't stop.

He felt himself getting closer and closer to overloading, the warmth of your cunt getting sweetly unbearable as his movements became more sloppy, yet still as hard as before.

"Fuck." Curses kept spilling from your sinful mouth, feeling his thick spike throb inside you, indicating that he was probably about to finish.

The discomfort and pain of his metal hips hitting your much softer backside were slowly becoming less and less noticeable as complete pleasure washed over you, making you a wet, moaning mess underneath him.

With his two servos on your hips, he increased the speed of his movements once more, chasing the so desired release.

"Bee, please..." you whined again, your tits bouncing with every thrust, your hardened nipples brushing against the rough floor, "Overload in me..."

Your words were enough to tip him over the edge. With only a few more harsh slams into your tight cunt, he felt himself spurting his thick transfluid into your cervix, multiple groans and whimpers leaving his intake as he did so. He kept fucking the pink liquid into your cunt, not wanting a single drop to escape.

You could still feel his hard, metal hips hitting your ass, all until you clenched around him so tightly, he swore he could overload again just from that sensation alone. You came all over his thick spike, moaning loudly, your body shaking with indescribable pleasure from both his rough pounding as well as the knowledge that his transfluid was deep inside you.

Bee didn't pull out instantly, his thrusts decreasing in speed and force with every passing second, trying to ride out the remains of his and yours overloads.

You were panting and the robot was most definitely overheating, his metal body much hotter in touch than ever before, now his chassis pressed against your back as he began planting gentle kisses to your hair, his vents not being able to catch up.

After a long time that didn't feel long enough for him, he decided to pull away and take his spike out of your core filled with his transfluid, practically begging him to just fuck it again. But now, that his lust for you was somehow taken care of, he could regain the control over his body, and allow you to rest after getting absolutely ruined by him.

You rolled over onto your back yourself, clenching your thighs together when you felt his pink juices flooding out of you, wanting to keep them there for as long as possible. He smiled at your attempts to keep him inside you, the desire growing in his optics once again.

Bee gently wrapped his servos around your bare, exhausted body, lifting you up to place you down on the sofa he was previously occupying with you in his lap. As soon as you felt the plush against the skin of your back, you pulled the robot in your direction with your hands on both sides of his helm, making him bend his body so that you could kiss him passionately for the last time that night, knowing that he was most likely about to leave you to take care of his Autobot duties. He obliged without complaining, ready to slide into you again right then and there. And how disappointed he was when you pulled away with a soft smile, exhaustion finally catching up to you...

The corner of his slips curled up as he looked around in search for something to put on you. An abandoned blanket sitting on a wooden chair since he could remember would do. Before you could even notice he left you alone on the sofa, he was back, covering you from the neck down quickly but still making sure your whole body was under the soft fabric.

"Prime needs you?" you asked in a weak tone, your voice now only confirming how tired you actually were.

Prime needed him but he needed you.

Bee only nodded, to which you responded softly, "I'll stay here." And before he could even give you any sort of a physical confirmation that he got that, you already closed your eyes with a content expression written all over your face.

He smirked to himself, the sweet feeling of finally achieving his goal washing over him, him practically having been able to live in his dreams for a moment. His smile only widened when he came to a realisation...

He finally managed to mark you as his.

don't know if i made it he-lost-control enough but i tried and that's what counts in my books. also, i made it an oneshot but if you wanted separate hcs for these characters ill be more than willing to write it

[spdrvyn]

tearful territory

miguel and a sensitive, tearful reader. you try to overcome the obstacle that is sobbing and crying whenever you're confronted by your ever stern and stoic boss, but your habit gets the best of you. no matter how hard you try to hide it.

hurt/comfort. miguel is bad with feelings. reader is bad with regulating their feelings. bad feeling and bad feeling regulation everywhere! thank you for this ask, anon <3

dividers by @/cafekitsune

You've been labeled as the family crybaby for as long as you could remember, so when you moved out, you'd figured that the habit of tearing up over even the tiniest of inconveniences would evade you. After all, you were now a hardened vigilante, beating up bad guys, saving a bunch of people should have gotten you tough skin. 

Wrong! While you have obviously improved and it hasn't been as bad as when you were still a kid, the tears that found themselves home in your eyes were now just protected by a mask, a symbol of your heroic deeds that hides the weak, meek, and fragile person beneath it. 

As you got recruited into Spider Society though, your mask was on more than half of the time. Even when eating, you only had it half-lifted just in case push came to shove.

Was it a little ridiculous? Yes. More than. But you'd rather bare the strange looks of people passing by you rather than have a full cafeteria of spiders witness you cry. You certainly didn't need to be labeled as Spider Society crybaby too, making work arounds for your habit was working for you now anyway.

Unfortunately, the universe is cruel. Oh-so cruel. 

You were a relatively new addition to the Spider Society which means that the head honcho had been doting on you for a while now, doting was a strong word, but he'd call you into his office to give you feedback on your performance in missions so far.

Completely fine, besides most of the reports had been positive. Though, the thing about Miguel is that he's actually an uplifting boss when he can be. Which means he always gave you advice, tips to help you get better next time, and pointed out your mistakes from each mission. 

Again, completely fine! You were okay with criticism, more than okay with it. But that lump that formed in your throat, the warmth that crept into your face, it functioned like clockwork. So you've just resorted to keeping your mask on whenever you had a meeting with him too, problem solved. 

Another thing you didn't know about Miguel though was despite his lack of a sixth, spider-like sense, he'd a habit of his own. To be an observer, to pick up on the small details of the people he worked with. Even if he only saw them by mere chance, only passing by some in the multiple hallways of headquarters on occasion. 

It wasn't rocket science, even if Miguel did know rocket science, to figure out that you had an... issue with dealing with the slightest forms of rejection. Aside from the obvious hint that you were always masked around him, he also noticed that you were radio silent for most of the meetings, only interjecting with quiet 'mhm's and 'okay's. 

You were so quiet around him that it almost made him seem chatty. Miguel. Chatty. Those two words could not be in the same sentence, yet you made it possible. 

He didn't want to force you to take your mask off, the end goal wasn't to see you cry, but after a few months of having literal one-on-one meetings with him, he hadn't really sparked any form of connection with you. 

This time when you were called in, you two went through the ropes per usual. It didn't seem like you noticed Miguel's (un)conscious efforts to soften his tone, to relax his shoulders, and to not look completely stone-faced when talking to you. 

Miguel wasn't particularly used to this, has he had people cry in front of him? More than too many times, but never had he seen your case before. It made him wonder what was going on in that head of yours, to care so much about his input that you'd hide shedding even a single tear in front of him. 

The approach to the end of the meeting was steadfast, but before he let himself dismiss you. He asked, "Why do you always keep your mask on?" 

He knew fully well the reason why, but to hear it come from your mouth, would make it even more worthy of an answer. 

But the thing is that you don't answer him. It's the awkwardest moment of his life, he thinks. Two of you just standing there, his brows knit together in confusion and he's about to repeat his question or ask if you heard him until the smallest of squeaks ring in his ears and now you're turning your head away and clasping a hand over your mouth to conceal your noises. 

He followed in your direction, but he can't even see your face. Your shoulders shook as your fingers sloppily pulled your mask up so that you could furiously swipe at the tears that streamed down from your eye. You bit at your lip so hard to silence yourself to the point where you could be crying about how you're about to draw blood simply from the force of it. 

Miguel hadn't said anything, you couldn't see him either. How could you? You literally just broke down crying in front of him, there's no way you could ever show your face again here. 

You want to say something, you tried to at least. But all you get out is a choked, "Sorry, I'm-- Sorry." To which you don't even get a response to, but you can feel it. That thousand yard, judgemental stare that you always get for reacting like this. 

Which only caused you to get more shaken up when Miguel places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which he uses to manuever you closer to him and to let him see your tear-struck face. Your first instinct to cower, you want to bring your hands to your face and peel your skin off like a banana peel, but Miguel doesn't let you.

In his other hand is a tissue to when he tenderly presses just below your eyes to wipe at the wetness, that hand on your shoulder moves to your chin and he lifts your face upward to get a good look at you. He doesn't look angry, rather concentrated. Locked in. 

Your chest heaves with the effort to keep it together, the onslaught of a really bad headache is rising over the horizon like it always does. Once Miguel's done, he discards of the tissue before he takes off your mask completely and sets it aside on his desk. The hand on your chin remains, a thumb on one cheek and the rest of his fingers on the other so your face looks a little smushed right now. A sight he'd like to appreciate if not for the circumstances. 

"So is this a common thing or?" The question almost seems a little unserious in nature, but that is mainly just the product of Miguel's awkwardness. He doesn't particularly do feelings, and he can't ask if you're okay because that might just lead to even more crying. 

Your voice is too dead to properly reply, you move your face in a half nod considering the grip he has on you. "And you've been wearing your mask because you don't want me to see?" He asks again, you nod more bashedly. 

A thin hum of understanding is all you can hear for him and he lets go of your face, but you can't hide anymore. Your mask is somewhere on his desk, it's managed to disappear among the slight mess that there is. It's awkward again, no words coming from either of you until–

"You're dismissed. Come back tomorrow." What? That's it? You put on this embarrassing display, you bawled in front of him, and he's letting you go? No lecture about how you need to be stronger of anything? 

The thought chases you in your dreams later on in the night. You found it hard to fall asleep that you swore you saw the sun peeking through the blinds once you were mentally fatigued enough to succumb to your exhaustion, you groggily swung over to Miguel's lab, your grip on your webs were too loose for your own safety but you managed to get over to him without any incidents. 

However, once his platform comes to a clicking halt, Miguel's back is turned to you. You notice that he wears a long sleeved turtleneck over his spider suit, a combination of articles you haven't seen on him before. 

The screen he was paying attention to turns off as he picks up a coffee cup on his right hand side and he holds it up to you, "It's colder out today." 

Whether that's to answer for the coffee or the drip, you don't mind. Silently taking the beverage, it brings warmth to your hand and you assume that it's freshly brewed considering the steam that comforts your cold cheeks. Miguel's attempt at small talk, despite how awkward, makes you feel a bit better. 

Maybe you needed this. This kind of one-on-one meeting. It's clear that he came to that same conclusion too, but for now, you'll enjoy your coffee, sit in the decreasingly uncomfortable silence, and look forward to the days you won't cry as much anymore.

[super-clearlysaltybouquet]

The One With the Blouse (2/2)

Part 2/2

Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 

Established couple (throuple)

Summary: Sirius apologises, Lily and Remus help

Warnings:

Minor angst

Hurt/comfort 

Fluff

Word count: 1.5k

You trudge up the steps of the girl’s dormitory. Tonight at least you know you’ll have an empty room. After a party, Marlene and Mary tend to fall asleep on the couches by the fire. Always the last to leave, and the first to insist on helping clean up. Lily will be with James, recently endowed with prefect duties and a single room, you have no doubt he’ll be taking advantage of the privacy. 

You sit in bed and hold yourself tight, calming your rushing heart, and trying desperately to cease the tears that just keep falling. Hours pass, and the loud sounds of youthful jubilance from the party below do too. 

You want to believe that Sirius didn’t mean any of it. He seemed almost just as upset as you were when you left the dorm. He has a habit of self-sabotage when things start going too well, Remus did warn you about that. But you aren’t a fan of wishful thinking. It’s far easier to let yourself wallow in the believe that you three just aren’t meant to be, and that they’ll do better without your imposition.

A soft knock on the door startles you, “Y/N, can I come in?”, Lily, that can’t be right. You respond in a daze, and she steps in wordlessly, looking far too sympathetic for your liking. 

“Remus said you might need some company”, she smiles.  

“Did they enjoy the party?”, you ask, entirely genuine. 

“They never came down”.

She moves to sit across from you on the red sheets, her fingers lost in her pockets as she pulls something out. A paper crane.

“Sirius made it for you”, she says, and your fragile heart summersaults. 

You extend your hand out, and Lily drops the paper to your open palm. The moment it touches your skin the bird begins to fly. It flutters around you in circles first, then flaps its wings in place between the two of you. It’s beautiful magic, Sirius’s touch is unmistakable. The paper rearranges itself back into its basic form, a flat sheet of parchment with writing on one side. 

It reads quite simply: 

I’m an idiot. I’m so, so sorry. Will do better. not your fault. Sirius,

It’s not exactly poetic, or even particularly romantic, but you appreciate the sincerity. The spreading, watery ink bleeding between letters - and dark raised tearstains affirms the earnestness of the apology. Lily seems hesitant before she speaks again, but her tone is reassuring, “You know, with him these things are never personal, he used to get like this with Remus when they first started out too”, and that shocks you. They seem like a complete unit now, reading each other’s minds and silent cues in a way you haven’t mastered yet. It seems almost unbelievable to imagine the two of them at each other’s throats. 

“I should go talk to them”, you sigh. Despite Sirius’s apology, you've resigned yourself to your fate. Re-playing the events of earlier tonight again and again in your mind, you can’t help but feel shameful. Maybe you overreacted, or you didn’t pay close enough attention to Sirius’s frustrations early enough. As if reading your mind:

“I understand why you’re upset; he told me what he said to you” Lily says, “If James said anything like that I don’t think I’d ever speak to him again”,

“You don’t think I should forgive him?” you ask, eyes looking back to the paper crane. The charmed parchment has re-folded itself perfectly and continues to fly.

Lily shrugs, “Sirius isn’t James, he doesn’t always mean what he says”, and somehow you find that incredibly comforting.

-

You walk to their dorm, paper crane in hand. Your stomach turns when you knock. There’s a rustle and a small shout from inside before the door creeks open, quicker than you’re prepared for. Remus steps out. His eyes are bright red and puffy, and looking at his hands on the wooden door you can tell he’s been picking at his fingers again. You hate to think that you might've been the cause of any of his pain. “Lily gave you the crane”, he says, half smiling now, and you think things might just be okay. 

He cracks the door open further, welcoming you inside with his hand at the small of your back. 

“Are you okay?”, you worry, glimpsing between his eyes and his scratched fingers, 

Remus nods. 

“All better now”, he says, half smile growing into nearly a grin, you believe him.

“Where’s Sirius?”, you ask.

Remus motions his head to the bathroom, and you cast him a bewildered look,

“I cast a silencing charm”, he explains, as if that really explains anything at all, “He needed to calm down”, he adds.

“So, he’s taking a bath?”, 

Remus shakes his head and waves his wand. The sound of sniffling and quiet crying finds it’s way through the dorm room, slightly muffled by something indistinguishable. 

“He’s got his head in the sink”, Remus says, and you really have nothing to say in response, “We had it filled with ice to keep the muggle beer right, I thought the cold would calm him down”, he elaborates, like an adoringly patient parent talking about a particularly affected toddler. Remus’s tenderness towards Sirius fills you with something light, and warm. You don’t miss the unspoken detail; Remus couldn’t bear to listen to your lover cry.

“He was in the wrong, and he really is sorry”, he says, and you don’t need to be convinced. You wonder how many times they’ve been through this, the arguments and reconciliation you’re only just learning to navigate. 

Remus opens the bathroom door for you, and low and behold Sirius’s head is in the sink. Three bottles of beer are parked haphazardly in the corner of the porcelain to make up for the space a human head takes up. He’s still wearing the same blouse. His shoulder are shaking, and his hands are so white gripping the sides of the sink that they’re almost luminescent.

Remus walks up behind him, rubbing circles up and down his back. He gives you a quick encouraging glance before he’s leaning down, speaking softly into Sirius’s ear, “Sweetheart, Y/N is here to talk to you, Lily gave her your crane”.

His head shoots up from the ice, pale and wild looking, like a corpse brought to life. Hair completely drenched, and ice water dribbling off the tip of his nose. He turns to you with wide eyes, looking entirely panicked. 

“I’m so, so sorry darling, I’m such bloody idiot”, he spills out, “I didn’t mean any of it, I’m not sure why I said it anyway, and then you were so upset, fuck sweetheart”, his words come out at a million miles a minute, you’re sure he’s taken your time apart to ruminate intently on his misdeeds. He takes a second to breathe, “-then Moony was upset with me too, Walburga sent me a howler yesterday and it got my mood all mixed up, I should have just talked to you, such a bloody idiot”, he pants out.

Remus hasn’t stopped circling his gentle hands up and down Sirius’s shoulders, providing a much-needed salve to the other boy’s anxiety. 

“I shouldn’t have left”, You say with regret “I should’ve stayed to talk to you”,

Sirius shakes his head, sprinkles of sink water flicking off the ends of his hair, “I upset you, you had every right to take a minute to yourself”, you nod in response, grateful he isn’t holding your flightiness against you. He seems much calmer now, the ice water, Remus’s touch, and your return serving as the perfect trifecta. It’s all slightly awkward, you’re both unsure how to proceed, stuck just for now in that fumbly post-argument stage. Remus spares you a slightly desperate glance, begging silently for you to say something. 

“Thank you for the crane, and the note”, you oblige.

“I meant what I wrote, I’ll do better”, he says it with conviction, and you appreciate the affirmation. “I'll do whatever you want, I’ll strip and flog myself all the way to Holyhead if-”, you interrupt him in haste, you’re not even sure he’s joking.

“-no no Sirius I forgive you, really”, his tense shoulders relax like mountains relieved of their own weight, and in the corner of your eye you think Remus’s do too. 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”, he questions,

“No, I mean it, honest”, and you lift your hand up beside your face, mimicking the action of taking some sort of oath. It puts a slight smile on Sirius’s face. “Come here”, you say, and he collapses into you, initiating the tightest hug of your life. He’s wet and cold, but you couldn’t care less, glad to have him back in your arms.

“Next time, please just tell me if I’m being too fussy, and I’ll give you a bit of space”, you say, muffled practically inside Sirius’s armpit. You feel him nod emphatically, “I promise”.

A warmth has returned to the dorm, and the red and gold accents of the room are suddenly more vibrant. The three of you stay up for a while, just holding one another, and talking softly into each other’s skin.

[alphynix]

Modern mammals are the only living representatives of the synapsids, but back during the Permian there were numerous other evolutionary branches – first the pelycosaurs, and later their descendant the therapsids.

Some of the first non-mammalian therapsids were the biarmosuchians, mid-sized carnivores with a more upright posture than their pelycosaur ancestors. They had large canine teeth in their jaws and powerful bites, and some of them also developed elaborate ornamentation on their skulls, with various bony bumps and crests adorning their faces.

Pachydectes elsi was a 1.5m long (~5') biarmosuchian living in what is now South Africa during the late Permian, about 265 million years ago. Bone texture indicates its head ornamentation was covered by either tough thickened skin or a keratinous sheath, and the large bulbous bosses on the sides of its snout had a particularly rich blood supply, suggesting these structures could have been continuously growing throughout its entire life.

But despite how well-protected it looked, Pachydectes' skull was actually relatively fragile and wouldn't have been able to withstand the impact forces of using its headgear for fighting or defense. Instead it may have been mostly used for visual display – and the blood supply to the snout bosses might even have given it the ability to "blush" them if they had a soft-tissue covering.

———

NixIllustration.com | Tumblr | Patreon

References:

Benoit, J., et al. "Early synapsids neurosensory diversity revealed by CT and synchrotron scanning." The Anatomical Record (2024). https://doi.org/10.1002/ar.25445

Rubidge, Bruce S., Christian A. Sidor, and Sean P. Modesto. "A new burnetiamorph (Therapsida: Biarmosuchia) from the middle Permian of South Africa." Journal of Paleontology 80.4 (2006): 740-749. https://doi.org/10.1666/0022-3360(2006)80[740:ANBTBF]2.0.CO;2

Wikipedia contributors. “Biarmosuchia.” Wikipedia, 13 Feb. 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biarmosuchia

Wikipedia contributors. “Pachydectes.” Wikipedia, 7 Feb. 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pachydectes

[highladyandromeda]

Shadows of the Heart

Part 2

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions. 

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of blood, but nothing particularly graphic

[Prologue], [Part 1]

Another four days passed, a week having finished as Y/n continued to sleep. Madja checked in multiple times a day, but she didn’t find any other problems. 

“Apart from her loss of blood, her body’s naturally healing itself. And it even seems as though once Mor recovered, her magic was able to repair her wounds.”

Azriel observed how the deep cuts on her arm and leg closed to form thin raised scars, marveling at the process, and pushing back the discomfort of seeing her skin marred. 

“So why isn’t she awakening?” Rhys broached, having left his place by her bedside, only to convert the room next door into a temporary office, checking in every hour according to his shadows. 

“It’s most likely exhaustion.” Madja contemplated before continuing, “We’re still not sure of the magic she used to teleport herself and Morrigan here, but it was enough to take a toll on her body. Time is most likely what she required the most.”

Azriel nodded along, the images of the blood circle ingrained in his mind. The crimson runes were still left on the balcony, no one had the heart to ask the house or the stomach really, to wash them off. Rhys hadn’t said a word about it either, perhaps afraid that touching it could somehow affect Y/n’s recovery. 

On the dawn of the fifteenth day, as the first rays of sunlight spilled into the room, bathing it in a warm, golden hue, something shifted. Azriel, who had taken to keeping watch that morning, noticed the change first. The steady rhythm of Y/n's breathing altered and became deeper, more purposeful. Her fingers twitched and as Azriel crept closer, he could see her eyelashes flutter. 

Then, in a moment that seemed to suspend time itself, Y/n's eyes opened. The vividness of her gaze, a striking contrast to the pallor that had claimed her features for days, searched the room, disoriented yet aware.

As if sensing the shift in the air, Rhys appeared at the doorway, his presence commanding yet wreathed in silent anticipation. Feyre was close behind him, with Madja appearing along her side. Y/n’s gaze, clear yet clouded with confusion, swept across the room before settling on Rhys with a dawning recognition.

Rhys stepped forward, his voice a gentle anchor in the sea of confusion that likely swirled within her. "Y/n, you're safe. You're in the House of Wind, in Velaris."

"Rhys..." her voice was a whisper, fragile as the morning light, but it carried the weight of countless unspoken words. Azriel felt his shadows quiver at the sound of her voice, agitated that she said only that. 

Madja approached with a gentle smile, her presence a reassuring beacon. "You've had us all holding our breath," she chided softly, a twinkle of relief in her eyes. "How do you feel?"

Struggling to sit up, Y/n's arms trembled with the effort, unable to support her weight. Quickly, Madja and Rhys were at her side, gently guiding her back against a fortress of pillows arranged for her comfort.

"I—how long—" she began, her voice barely a whisper. Gesturing towards her mouth, she mimed the action of drinking. Rhys, understanding immediately, handed her a glass of water, which she accepted with a nod of thanks.

"Fifteen days," came the response, surprising even Azriel, who hadn't expected his voice to fill the silence.

Y/n's gaze snapped to Azriel, her crimson eyes locking with his in confusion. Then, turning back to Rhys, she sought confirmation, her eyes laden with unspoken questions.

"Yes," Rhys affirmed, his tone carrying a blend of seriousness and warmth. "As Azriel, my spymaster, mentioned, you've been asleep for fifteen days, Y/n."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, prompting Rhys to add with a light-hearted chuckle, "You've never been one to enjoy your sleep, so, I must say, this time you've outdone yourself."

The room filled with soft laughter, which quickly turned into a series of coughs from Y/n.

With a firm command, Madja ushered everyone out, emphasizing the need for Y/n to rest and recuperate in solitude. Rhys, with a promise of returning bearing books and introductions, and Feyre, with an offer of her gentle company, reluctantly departed.

Azriel, ever the silent observer, melded back into the comforting embrace of the shadows. He lingered a moment longer, his gaze fixed on Y/n as she settled back, her magic, a soft luminescence against her skin, began to weave its way up her arms once more. And as he retreated into his room. It was the vivid scarlet of her eyes that imprinted itself on his mind, a beacon that refused to be extinguished even in the depth of shadows.

------------------------------------- x --------------------------------------

Y/n paused at the top of the grand staircase, her hand resting lightly on the polished banister. Each step below seemed to stretch further away, a challenge laid out before her. She drew in a deep breath, bracing herself against the lingering weakness that clung to her limbs like the remnants of a bad dream. Halfway down, her breath came in shallow drafts and she leaned against the banister for a moment, closing her eyes. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the state of her body, she couldn’t remember the last time such small movements pained her. 

Finally reaching the bottom, Y/n paused, gathering herself. The familiar scents of breakfast—a medley of sweetness and warmth—wafted through the air, grounding her. She stepped forward, each movement measured, as she refused to collapse here. Her pride could only take so much more of a beating, after sleeping for 16 days now. 

As her presence filled the doorway, a hush fell over the room, every eye turning towards her. It was Rhys and Mor who reacted first, their chairs scraping back against the polished floor as they sprang to their feet, propelled by a mix of concern and elation. Mor, having sat closer to the doorway on purpose, reached Y/n first, her arms enveloping Y/n in a hug that was nothing short of bone-crushing.

"Y/n!" Mor exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion, as she finally allowed her grip to loosen slightly, mindful of Y/n's recent ordeal. “What were you thinking?!” she yelled. Her eyes, bright with unshed tears, scanned Y/n's face as if to reassure herself that she was truly okay, that she was really there. 

Rhys, following closely behind, wore an expression of deep relief mingled with a hint of his usual charm. He extended his hand, but then, deciding against it, pulled Y/n into a gentle embrace, mindful of her recovery.

"You've been missed, Y/n. More than you know," Rhys murmured, before stepping back to give her some space, before ushering her into a seat. 

Y/n hesitated, her gaze sweeping across the familiar faces now turned towards her with varying expressions of curiosity and concern. "Actually," she began, a trace of her old confidence threading through her voice, "could I speak with you—just you and Mor...in private?" She added at their shared look of surprise, "It's urgent."

Before they could respond, Cassian tried to lighten the mood. "Sure, but not before you try some of this breakfast. We've all been waiting for you." His attempt to guide her towards the table was met with a small, knowing smile from Y/n.

"You must be Cassian," she remarked, “You’re just as I remember”, amusement lacing her tone, sparking a ripple of surprised laughter around the room. Deciding that she wouldn’t win this argument, Y/n gracefully conceded, taking the seat next to Azriel. As she settled into the chair, Azriel's shadow drifted towards her. They moved with an almost sentient awareness, coiling gently around her arms and weaving through her hair with the softness of a whispered secret.

Azriel caught between concern and embarrassment, hastily retracted them. "Sorry," he muttered, cheeks tinged with a rare blush.

Y/n shook her head, hiding her surprise with a gentle smile playing on her lips. "I don't mind. Really."

She turned straight to Rhys and tapped on his mental shields, watching his eyes unfocus as his talons gave way to the spirals of her crimson magic. 

How much do they know? She asked.

Just the basics. Rhys responded. I wanted you to decide on the rest.

And you still trust them?

With my life. Y/n, why don’t you stay–

Before Rhys could finish, Y/n closed their link, looking around the room before revealing, “As you know, my name is Y/n. I was raised alongside Rhys and his sister in Moonstone Palace.” 

She took a deep breath before continuing, “I left after her…after her death.” A pained glance shared between her and Rhys, with Mor resting her hand on her shoulder. 

"I’ve seen and heard of Cassian and Azriel during visits to the Illyrian mountains, but it was so long ago. I'm not surprised no one remembers."

Azriel felt his heart stutter, wanting to know more about this enchanting faerie. How could she remember him, but he didn’t recall her? Before he could muster the courage to turn to her, to ask her what she thought, no, what she remembered of him, Y/n didn’t let the revelation sink in.

With the weight of her next words pressing down upon her, she continued "I can't stay for long. I have to return to Vallahan."

She raised her hand in a stopping motion, insisting on continuing before Rhys grabbed her hand and pulled her up and into the house’s study. The slammed door echoed the shocked faces around the table. 

Finally, when it seemed as though they would continue past lunchtime, Y/n and Rhys emerged, both looking surprisingly frazzled as Y/n huffed up the stairs. Rhys announced to the room, now with the addition of Amren and Elain, that they would have renewed introductions during dinner.

Azriel tried to focus on the joy of seeing Y/n again for dinner, trying to swallow down the bit of jealousy he felt at her acknowledgment of Rhy and Cassian, and her subsequent engagement with the others. It wasn’t a new sensation, this feeling of being overshadowed by the more charismatic presence of his brothers. Historically, he had resigned himself to the background, comfortable in his silence, a watcher amidst the revelry. Yet, with Y/n, it felt different; though he had just met her, he wanted to be seen, to be the one she sought out, the one whose company she desired.

A/N: Hi everyone!! Thank you so much for the support -- I wasn't expecting so much interest and joy when I first posted! I hope that I can write something that makes you all feel as entertained and encaptured as fanfic authors have made me feel!

I just created a tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕

TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria

[lessi-lover]

maybe where reader is anxious (maybe has a panic attack) and leah notices and helps her? have a lively weekend !

safe in your arms II l.williamson ~

short little blurb based on this request, thank you! 🫶🏻

tw: anxiety, panic attacks, emotional distress, public scrutiny. author note - please note that the experiences of anxiety and emotional distress depicted in this story are not my own. they are drawn respectfully from others who have faced these challenges.

06 ★ ~ l. williamson

the press conference room buzzed with an electric energy, the passionate feeling was unmatched, a stark contrast to the nervous fluttering in your stomach.

Chelsea vs. Arsenal W.F.C, Sunday, December 10th 2023. one of the most important games of the barclays super league, the highest league of football in england, the pressure was undeniable.

seated beside leah, you felt the weight of every camera flash, each question from the reporters heightening you angst.

leah's presence was a comfort, her hand hidden under the table, resting on your thigh, her thumb rubbing softly into your skin. although, even that felt like a fragile shield against the slaughter of probing questions sent your way.

as the questions grew more personal, the knot of anxiety in your chest tightened, your throat beginning to close up. "does your relationship affect the team's ability to focus?" a reporter asked, pen ready in his hand.

leah's responses were calm and measured, her ability to fend off invasive journalists was admirable, yourself never having particularly having the confidence. your breaths became shallow, the room felt as if it was closing in around you. your skin began to heat up, eyesight now blurred and hazy.

when the question about your personal life being a distraction was posed, it was the final straw. your heart raced, and the room spun in circles. "darling." you could hear your girlfriend trying to speak to you, her mouth moving, but no sound coming out.

standing abruptly, you excused yourself, nearly stumbling as you retreated to the first empty room you could find, leah following closely behind you.

the warmth of the bathroom enveloped your body, leaving your skin sticky and uncomfortable. leaning your forehead against the sink, you tried to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feelings just made your breaths shallower.

that's when leah appeared, concern evident on her features, as she closed the door behind her.

"hey, it's alright," leah's voice was soft, a stark contrast to the chaotic room you'd just left. she approached and gently cupped your face, her thumbs stroking your tearful cheeks. "breathe with me love," she coaxed. your legs shook, your body almost crashing to the ground, before the blonde caught you.

her soft, blue eyes, filled with unwavering support and comfort, locked with yours in the glass mirror. as your breaths finally began to match hers, leah leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, before leaning her own head against yours. "you're okay, darling. i'm here," she whispered, her lips brushing against your cheek, sending a wave of comfort through you.

feeling a bit steadier, you wrapped your arms around her, seeking the warmth and safety of her arms. leah held you close, whispering loving words, her heart beating steadily against your chest. she kissed the top of your head, each kiss a wordless promise of her love for you.

she would always be there for you.

after a moment, when leah thought you were ready, she pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours. "let's leave, let's go." she suggested, her voice a gentle whisper. "we can go home, love." the thought of escaping with Leah, away from the prying eyes and bright lights, was a savior to your conflicted mind.

she clasped her hand with yours, as both made your way through the busy corridors of the building, freeing away from the hectic conference. once outside, the cool night air was refreshing, washing over your skin like a soothing breath after the stifling feeling you'd left behind.

the drive home was quiet, staring out the window, you let your eyes wonder the busy streets of london. you never really did let yourself have a second to pause. the blonde driving you, understood you needed time for your head to ground itself. her presence beside you was reassuring, her hand finding yours, squeezing it gently, a reminder that you would get through this together.

you finally turned to leah, your voice barely above a small whisper, 'Thank you for being there, for me.' leah's response was immediate, 'Always, love. We're in this together."

lost in your own thought, you didn't even take notice that you had arrived home, leah gently tucked a strand of her behind your ear. getting out of the car, she raced over to your side, a common gesture of the blonde. although, this time it meant more.

the familiar scent of home greeted you as Leah opened the door, the soft lighting inside calming your eyes. back in the comfort of your home, you felt your breath return to its usual pace, and the pounding in your head reside. leah took care of you with a tenderness that made your heart swell up in love.

she prepared your favorite snacks and settled next to you on the couch, wrapping a braided blanket around you both. she lifted your hips, bringing you impossibly close, before lighting pecking the side of your head.

the movie playing in the background was merely white noise to the comfort you found in each other. staring up into her consoling eyes, you found yourself taken away at her natural beauty.

leaning into the blonde, you felt the last remnants of the stressful evening melt away. she turned to you, her eyes gentle in the dim light, and leaned in to capture your lips in a gentle, loving kiss.

"you always make everything better," you whispered against her lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. you tucked your head into her neck, allowing yourself to enjoy her comfort.

leah smiled back, her eyes twinkling in affection. "i love you, in every moment, no matter what," she replied, her voice low and sincere. she kissed you again, each a faithful indication of the depth of her feelings.

as the night aged, the two of you remained wrapped in each other's arms, the world of reporters and judgemental fans fading to a distant memory.

in leah's arms, you found not just love, but a place where you could be vulnerable and still feel safe.

you knew she was the one.

[the-s1lly-corner]

What its like kissing the creepypasta characters

excluding the characters that im not comfy writing romantic for, for obvious reasons similar to the hugging post this is more so a rating thing instead of actual scenarios! honestly in love with these kinds of posts so im formally asking you guys to give me ideas in this vein because i love making hcs in this format/for general stuff eheheheh

SLENDERMAN:

if youve been on this blog for a while, you would know that i love when characters who dont have mouths/have nontraditional mouths nuzzle and press their face into yours. and i still love the idea, especially with slenderman ! the first time he 'kisses' you its probably the first time hes kissed ANYONE so the movement itself is probably a little... clunky... doesnt press too hard, actually i think he would struggle with the opposite. theyre gentle and fleeting, almost as if his inhuman strength and size would crush you if he let himself truly lean into it. i mean think about it, he hardly ever interacts with humans and when he does its for 'food', he has always only seen them as vulnerable and fragile. and whether malicious or not, he treats you as if youre made of glass. likes kissing the back of your hands too. 7/10, he gets bonus points since hes my fav + its the thought that counts

SPLENDORMAN:

very eager about showing you any level of affection, probably early in the relationship that he gets bold enough to kiss you. first kiss is probably more of a "in the moment" thing than "i planned this out and im going to ask" thing if that makes sense... similar to slenderman in regards that he presses his mouth to you, as i personally headcannon that his smile isnt exactly.. a real mouth, more so a false one. think like a layer of 'skin' covering his real one that he can rip out at any moment (same case for slenderman btw. same also apply to splendors eyes, more so markings than actual eyes). going back to his energy, hes very eager about it, might even lightly push you back with how much hes putting into it; he doesnt mean to, hes just so excited! likes cheek kisses and nuzzling your noses together 8/10

EYELESS JACK:

very wary about kissing you outside of those little pecks, for multiple factors. for one, his teeth. sharp teeth, he can accidentally cut you. other reason thats much darker, given that admin personally hcs that he goes into "frenzies" when hes hungry and reacts to blood like the sharks in finding nemo, if he accidentally cuts you when hes not.. well fed.. for lack of a better term... theres a risk there. REFUSES to kiss when he needs to go 'hunt' soon, not because he doesnt want you or your affection, but he doesnt want to take any risks. outside of that, he doesnt often seek out affection, so youre probably going to have to initiate it, unless hes feeling particularly clingy that day or jealous... hes very cold, please cup your hands on his face and warm him up. likes kissing your lips 6/10

LAUGHING JACK:

has to lean in at an angle in order to not poke you with his nose. has probably accidentally lightly scratched you with it when he got too excited. likes giving you forehead kisses for this reason because you can just angle your head down and he can go to town like that... sometimes leave lipstick marks on you.. if you personally hc that he can take off his makeup then please offer to fix it! hes going to be absolutely over the moon! likes wrapping his arms around you when he kisses you. does lots of kisses in quick succession rather than singular longer ones. probably wakes you up with kisses and greets you with kisses when you come home 8/10 i love him

MASKY/TIM:

nope, sorry. for masky hes not going to be taking off the mask around you at all. so if you want a kiss youre going to have to kiss the mask. though on rare occasions when youre alseep/half awake he will lift up his mask just enough to reveal his mouth and give you a kiss on your face. no particular place that he prefers to kiss you. though as said, its rare when he does this. in fact its not common for masky to seek out affection unless he feels more possessive of you than usual, be it because hes jealous or you are stress or you were just in a dangerous situation. 5/10, not much action but there is still care behind it

now as for tim... i think he would be more willing to give you kisses. probably gives you a quick one before you leave for work or something else, and greets you with one when you return home. thats a sweet thought, i think. more likely to give kisses during cuddle session, tends to kiss your cheek and neck (non sexually) while hes holding you to his chest. ponders. will give you a look if you mess with his sideburns and start giggling 6.5/10 love this man

HOODIE/BRIAN:

hoodie is a little more willing to lift up his mask around you, but only really up to the bottom of his nose. also has no preferred place to kiss you, but he seems to kiss your lips more than the other parts of you. sometimes his facial hair scratches against your skin and tickles. between him and brian i think hoodie is a little more blunt and serious about kissing. not to say hes not a little playful, love me some vaguely playful s/o hoodie hcs. probably picks you up off the ground too to 'trap' you, especially if youre fairly shorter than him (personally hc brian/hoodie is 6'') 7/10 love him

very similar to hoodie but i think he would be even more playful when it comes to you. leans into it when his facial hair starts tickling you, in fact i think it would devolve into him just tickling your sides. funny man. put him in the corner/j. like lj, he likes wrapping his arms around you when kissing you, this man is very into physical touch. will touch you any chance he gets; hand holding, cuddling, hugs, ect ect ect... sometimes starts smiling when you guys kiss so you have to give him a minute because he just has this huge grin on his face 8/10

PUPPETEER:

so you know how i said in the hugging post hes kind of a little shit? you know, literally basking in the fact that youre giving your time and self to him? i think that still applies here, maybe even more so since this is explicitly romantic. likes teasing you if you get flustered during your make out sessions, sometimes bombards you with kisses just to see your face redden... has probably leaned down and tapped his cheek as a silent yet teasing gesture, as if taunting you, letting you be the one to kiss him this once. also very cold, like physically. what being a spirit does to a mf. VERY tall, can easily evade any retaliation you throw his way (ie returning the favor of bombarding him with kisses), though im not sure how long he'd be able to resist.. 6/10