#Hush Sleep aid when?

[audio-redundancy]

Thinking about Doc staying up late because they can't sleep for what ever reason. Hush teleporting into their room, unsure how to get them to sleep, he sits on their bed, slowly rubbing their back until they fall asleep.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Succession

Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

“Behold, the traitor dragon, Meleys. Slain by King Aegon.”

Cole might’ve bellowed anything before the mention of Y/N’s husband and she would not have heard it. Breaching the castle doors, out onto the streets, where the smallfolk stare in wonder. The Queen has scarcely been seen in the days following her husband’s accession, leaving many to wonder if she still lives.

Here she stands, in the flesh, walking about them like a commoner. “Where is Aegon?” She finds Ser Criston, keeping pace beside his horse.

“You mustn’t be about, your grace. It is not safe.”

“Where is my husband?”

Ser Gwayne looks back toward his fallen nephew, now carried by men.

“No,” Y/N shakes her head, falling in line with the oversized box one might mistake for a casket. She can’t see much of anything through the slats.

“You must return to the castle, my Queen.” Cole circles back for her. “His Grace will need you at his side.”

“He’s alive?” Y/N breathes.

“When last I checked.”

She nods, remaining beside her husband as he is carted into the castle, up the stairs to his chambers. The maesters await him, peeling away armor and bits of charred flesh with it, to reveal the extent of his injuries.

“Is my son going to die?” Alicent asks.

“He is badly burned.” The maester informs the Queen dowager.

“Men survive burns.” Y/N says, holding a hand to her belly, attempting to quell the churning.

“He has many broken bones.”

“Bones heal.”

The grand maester sighs, “that is our hope, your grace.”

What lies beneath his breastplate is naught but more red, angry skin, or lack there of. Alicent comes round to Y/N, a rare occasion, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Mayhaps it is best you step away.”

“I will stay,” Y/N shakes her head, “if anything happens… I must stay.” Hold his hand as he goes, if it comes to it.

Alicent nods, withdrawing.

Aegon’s breathing is something awful. Men survive burns. Bones heal.

An eternity passes in that room, on bated breath. Eventually the maesters begin clearing out, leaving the King to mutter, incoherently.

“Your grace.” The grand maester turns to Y/N. “It is done.”

“Thank you, Grand Maester. For all you have done, I- I owe you a debt.”

The man takes her hand, “we can only do so much to aid in the king’s healing, I believe it is you he needs. Be his strength.”

Y/N nods, “of course.” She makes herself comfortable upon the mattress beside him as the doors close, giving them a moment alone.

Aegon’s mumblings grow louder, though still impossible to make sense of.

“Shhh,” Y/N hushes him, brushing hair from his face. “There is nothing to fear. You need only…get better for me. I will tend the council shortly, but I shall return.”

He quiets then, as though her gentle reassurance is all he wanted.

“I will not abandon you. Not now, not ever. Rest easy, my love. You are safe now.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, before taking the stairs down to join the small council.

Those sitting around the table are already in deep discussion, gaping at the Queen’s entrance, standing to greet her.

“So kind of you to wait for me, my lords.” Y/N smiles, taking her ball from the center.

“We thought you might be with his grace, the king.” The hand explains. “He will be expecting you when he wakes.”

“I am not sure he will ever wake.” The grand maester cuts in. “His fate lies with the gods now.”

“Give it time.” Y/N sniffs, “it has been mere hours since his return.”

“If Aegon could wake, he would have done so for you.” Alicent decides. “A king cannot rule in his sleep, we must appoint a regent to serve in his absence.”

“I am awake.” Y/N reminds them.

“My Queen,” Tyland Lannister interjects, “if I may be so bold. Your lord husband has been wounded in battle, he will need your tender hand if we hope him to make any sort of recovery.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Lord Tyland.” Y/N replies, in a measured tone. Should she lose her head before the council, there will be no coming back from it. “Still, I am willing and able to rule.”

“In the event of his grace’s untimely death, we must be prepared to proceed with the succession.”

“Understandably, and we do not lack heirs. My husband and I have four children.” Y/N shifts in her chair. “Assuming, as you have, that the men of the realm will never accept a woman on the throne, we then pass the crown to our first born son.” To charm the snakes, you must behave as a snake.

The council looks to each other. “Prince Laenor is but two years of age, our next ruling king, by law; though too young to presently serve.”

“I will advise him, I am his mother.”

Alicent rises from her seat, “might I humbly suggest myself? I have already done so during my late husband’s long illness-”

“Which was fine then?” Y/N arches a brow, “a wife to rule in her husband’s absence.”

Alicent lowers her gaze. “This is different.”

“Because I am your enemy’s daughter and named heir,” Y/N huffs. “Rules for thee, not for me. Isn’t that right?”

“Mind yourself.”

“Or what?” Y/N lifts a shoulder, “you will usurp my husband, as you did my mother?”

“Viserys changed his mind.” Alicent says, with finality. “I am sorry for what’s happened, but with his dying breath, he wished for Aegon to be king. I pray you do not hear a similar whisper from your husband anytime soon.”

“I love my husband,” Y/N seethes, “let that be known.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

“Whatever the members of this council intend to do now will be spoken plainly, in my presence.” Y/N demands, staring down at her wedding ring.

“I believe it is in our best interest to appoint Prince Aemond as Regent, until our King has been restored.” Ser Criston announces, “as hand, I know the king’s greatest concern is the safety and well being of his wife and children. We must honor that, in these unprecedented times.”

Y/N swallows, “very well.”

“My Queen.” Aemond reaches past her for the council ball, abandoned by her husband.

————————————————————————

Y/N goes through the motions, putting their children to bed. All is well, my darlings. Father needs only rest. When they have each found sleep, she returns to Aegon. Speaking to him the same way she always has, as though he can hear.

“The men of the council are restless in your absence. They circle like vultures now,” Y/N chokes out, touching the unmarred skin of his face. “And I am alone in this….I have never been alone.”

If she knew no better, she could swear his fingers twitch against hers. Mayhaps she is gripping them too tightly. She releases his hand, much to Aegon’s dismay, grumbling his discontent.

“Hush now, I am here and you are here. The rest will sort,” Y/N reminds him.

She watches him then, the heaving rise and fall of his chest, wrapped in bandages. Men survive burns. Bones heal.

In time, Alicent joins her at Aegon’s side. “Has there been any change?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head.

“You are kind to be here, he loves nothing in the world as he loves you. I am sure your presence alone is a comfort to him.”

“That is my hope,” Y/N admits.

“I will leave you to it.” Alicent offers a hint of a smile, making for the door.

“Mummy.”

Y/N hears it, his mother does not. “Alicent,” she calls her back.

Alicent flicks away tears before turning round, “what is it?”

“He’s asking for you.”

“F-for me?”

Y/N nods, giving his hand a squeeze.

Alicent returns to his bedside, passing a hand over the side of his face. “I’m here.”

He draws in a rattling breath, “protect her.” Aegon stumbles over the words. “Please, Mummy.”

Y/N inhales sharply, hushing him.

Alicent locks eyes with her daughter by law. I pray you do not hear a similar whisper from your husband anytime soon. “I will do this, for you, Aegon. You needn’t worry.”

Aegon says nothing else, succumbing to sleep once more.

Alicent excuses herself, with a nod.

Y/N muffles the sound of her cries in the hand which isn’t holding his. She’s only half awake by the time she hears footfall and whispering at the end of her husband’s bed.

“Was it worth the price?” Helaena asks.

“I’ve no idea what you mean, my darling.” Aemond mutters, brushing his lips against her cheek.

Part 2

[catssluvr]

𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒆, aaron hotchner

aaron hotchner x fem!reader (916 words)

in which you end up with an injured nose at girl’s night and aaron takes care of you

warnings: bloody nose (surprise), r is tipsy, sweet aaron again 🫶🏻

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

This is probably the last way you would have imagined your day to end up like. This being sitting in the passenger seat of Hotch's car with an ice pack against your very much painful bloody nose.

It's funny to think that working in the fbi wasn't what gave you an injurie but falling against Emily's coffee table sure was. It was definitely quite a fight between you, one of Sergio's toys on the floor and the corner of the table. You just didn't happen to win it, leaving your nose bruised and bloody.

You felt utterly embarrassed for having to call him to pick you up, but you couldn't drive after two cups of wine and didn't want to ruin girl's night. You're sure there's better things for him to do on his day off, specially at midnight.

Though he doesn't seem bothered by it the slightest, his hand resting on your thigh for the whole ride home and stealing worried glances at you once in a while.

"You okay?" He asks once he opens the door, helping you out of your seatbelt.

You're quiet and that worries him. He knows pretty well you're not one to be quite when alcohol is running in your system.

"Mhm. Sorry for this, again." It's probably your fourth apology tonight and he doesn't like that one bit.

"Stop saying sorry." His tone is almost stern but you can feel the affection sweeping through it. "I missed you today, was glad you called." He's too sweet even when you're sure you ripped him out of bed, his crooked quarter zip that's thrown over his sleeping shirt proving you right.

You smile softly at him, regretting it immediately as your nose stings.

Aaron hushes you inside the house, immediately leading you to the bathroom and sitting you on the counter.

He rummages through the cabinets for a moment, pulling out a few cottons and other things you're too dozy too look properly at.

"Oh, sweet girl..." It's only now that he takes the ice pack from your nose that he realizes how painful it must be. There's dried blood right outside your nostrils and the bridge of your nose look another shade.

"That bad, uh?" You mock, holding back a chuckle at his reprehending stare.

Aaron starts cleaning your nose with a wet cotton, mumbling out gentle sorries when you hiss in pain.

You take the time to look at him through half closed eyes. His dishevelled hair, his concentrated expression and most of all his quarter zip paired with stripped pyjama pants. It makes you feel both giddy and guilty that he probably came running to get you once you called.

"You're pretty." You say it before getting to actually think about it. But the fact that you're still tipsy helps you say things shamelessly.

"Thank you, honey. You're very pretty too." He answers with a smile bigger than he intended, just happy that you're finally acting like you normally would while tipsy.

Once the blood is cleaned and the arnica is applied, he reaches for the small band aid box. They all have some kind of cartoon in them, Jack's influence.

"Which one?" He questions with fake seriousness, displaying all the different band aids.

You point to the spider-man themed one, probably Jack's influence as well.

"Very good choice." Aaron pulls it open, carefully applying it over the small cut on the bridge of your nose before pressing a tiny kiss there.

He tells you to wait for a moment before dissapearing into the bedroom, coming back a few seconds later with a large hoodie and one pair of stripped pyjama pants - both his.

You let out a relaxed sigh once you're in them, his scent comforting and similar to what you would call home.

"Gimme a kiss?" You mumble nasally, a chuckle bubbling out of him at the way it sounds more like 'kith'.

"I'll hurt your nose."

"No, it'll heal magically from your kiss." You do little in trying to persuade him, but it's more than enough for him.

Aaron tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears, cupping your warm cheeks and leaning in to place a gentle peck on your lips.

"Better, sweet girl?" It's not really a question, as he knows the answer. His lips trail from your cheek to your temple, lingering there for a moment before pulling to hold your face once more.

"Mhm, much better." You lean into his hands almost involuntarily.

His hands reach under your thighs, picking you up before you can even process it. You let out a surprised gasp, smacking his chest lightly when he laughs.

"You know, my nose is hurt. Not my legs, Aaron." You mumble against his neck, smiling at the way he shivers at the contact.

"Just let me spoil you, yeah?" He shushes you, arms comfortable around you as he enters the bedroom.

Once you're tucked inside the blankets in his so familiar bed, Aaron pulls out his quarter zip. Throwing it on top of the armchair in the corner before rushing to lay beside you.

Almost immediately, your arms find place around his waist. Your fingers trace incoherent shapes on his stomach and your head lays against his chest, his heartbeat lulling you to a sleepy state almost immediately.

"Thank you." It's barely a whisper, but he hears it just fine.

He hums, squeezing his arms around you before pressing a kiss to your hair one last time. "My sweet girl."

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

love you,

cat 🤍

[thef1diary]

💭 on my mind: I can’t stop thinking about using Charles as a sleep aid (or more like his dick) like just being unable to fall asleep and he wakes up because you’re moving around and he just knows what you need. Just some soft sleepy sex 🥵

Use Me | C. Leclerc

absolutely loved this idea omg I had sm fun with this.

warnings: 18+ smut, very poetic descriptions of sex ngl, unprotected sex, riding, just soft sleepy smut as requested

wc: 660

masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

You lie in bed, tossing and turning, the weight of the day still heavy upon your shoulders, refusing to slip into the comforting embrace of sleep. Your mind racing, thoughts swirling like a storm. But amidst the chaos, you glance at Charles who is still blissfully asleep. One idea persists as you look at him, growing stronger with each passing moment.

His silhouette is barely visible in the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains. He sleeps peacefully, undisturbed by the turmoil raging within you. You hesitate, unsure if you should disturb his slumber, but after tossing and turning a couple more times, the decision is made for you. He moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and tucking his head in the crook of your neck.

“Can’t sleep, ma belle?” He mutters, his voice deep, lined with sleep while his eyes flutter open for a moment, drowsy and confused.

His voice only adds on to the growing need between your legs, and you press your thighs together in a failed attempt to relieve it.

You shake your head, “no, Charles. Please?” You turn towards him, facing him while your hand runs down his bare chest, feeling every ridge of muscle until you’re stopped by the hem of his boxers. He knows without words what you need, what you crave from him.

Without a word, he turns to lie flat on his back, taking you with him, allowing you to straddle his thighs. Your head buried into the curve of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin, already beginning to find solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before whispering the words that ignited your body with desire. “Use me.”

In the hushed stillness of the night, his touch is like a balm to your restless soul. His warmth seeps into your bones, calming the frantic thoughts that have plagued you, that have taken away your ability to fall asleep. With his caress of his fingers on your cheek, each whispered word of comfort, you feel yourself surrendering to the peace only he can offer.

The desire that sparks between you two isn’t one of passion or urgency, simply just a gentle, tender longing born from the need for connection.

Both of your clothes are quickly shed, punctuated by the sound of your sigh as you sink down on him, pressing your hands against his chest to stabilize yourself. Charles’ hands rest on your hips, urging you with light squeezes, sinful words, and breathy moans leaving his lips.

As the minutes tick by, you feel the tension slowly drain from your body, replaced by a profound sense of peace and thoughts of only him.

He thrusts his hips up a couple times, catching you by surprise, draining your energy even further when he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow enticing circles.

Charles sees your eyes drooping while you struggle to keep up the pace to bring yourself over the edge. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer before rolling over on the bed to take control.

Still keeping the slow and steady pace, he deepens his thrusts, watching you grab onto the sheets above your head to ground yourself.

In the silent intimacy of the night, you find yourselves entwined in a slow, unhurried dance of bodies, feeling the sweat on your skin gather and shine in the glimmer of the moonlight trickling in.

Soon enough, both of you reach your orgasms, allowing all the tension to seep away from you as the mixed cum drips out of you and onto the sheets below.

As sleep finally claims you, it’s not just the exhaustion that lulls you into slumber, but the comforting presence of Charles pressed up behind you, a beacon of relief in your restless mind. Together you drift off into dreams, wrapped in the warm embrace of his arms.

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @jointhehunt67 @bokutos-babyowl @sya-skies @charlesleclercsonlywife @dreamingonbed @wonnou @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet

[hotchner-edu]

Hi! I saw you take requests and I love the way you write Aaron— the runner's stamina drabble was just *chef's kiss*. I was wondering if you could write a fluffy one shot where reader falls asleep on Hotch's shoulder while on the jet ride home from a case, and he secretly kinda thinks it's adorable even though the rest of the team teases him about it? :')

Sleepy Days (Drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

A small frown tugs at your lips as you rest your eyes for a second, feeling the alluring arms of sleep wrapping themselves around you. All the noise in the jet seems to drift further and further away as you are enveloped in darkness, nestled in the comfort that slumber was tempting you with.

You've been nodding off for well over ten minutes now, head tipping forward toward the table like an unrestrained bowling ball, catching the keen attention of your unit chief.

Aaron was sitting in the chair beside yours, having noticed your fatigue since the jet took off. He made a note to slide away the open book in front of you to mark the page, knowing you'd be annoyed with yourself if you lost your spot while falling asleep.

You were on the brink of completely slipping off the edge of consciousness now, and you could only curse your own inattentiveness for your predicament. The team's latest case had them flying out to Las Vegas, but instead of ending on a high note with popping bottles and slot machines, you ended up catching a small cold while surrounded by plumes of cigarette smoke.

It was to your luck that JJ always carried around medicine and first-aid supplies in her go-bag. Unluckily, you had grabbed a deceivingly orange bottle of cough syrup from her bag thinking it was DayQuil, not realizing it was honey-flavored NyQuil until it was already too late.

As you succumb to your sleepiness, the last thing trailing across your mind is the absolute pain you're going to have in your neck when you wake up.

Aaron can tell that you're no longer awake anymore from the way your shoulders completely sag down, and how your face melts into a relaxed expression— one that he can't help but steal another glance at. He leans over to insert your bookmark into your book, eyebrows jumping up in surprise when he feels your head tilting and falling onto his shoulder.

A hint of a smile crawls onto his face at the feeling of you leaning against him, and he has to ignore the heat creeping up his neck as he subtly scoots closer to you to let you rest easier on him.

The words on the file in front of him start to meld together as he isn't able to draw his focus away from the feeling of your warm body beside his.

"Hotch." Derek's voice grabs his attention, the other man's sharp whisper tinged with a bit of amusement. "You're a softy at heart, huh? C'mon, admit it."

Aaron raises an eyebrow and frowns at him, shaking his head. "You'd do the same."

Derek shrugs at that, still smiling as he puts his headphones back on. To Aaron's misfortune, the small exchange caught the attention of the rest of the team, and while Spencer is polite enough to just smile softly and continue playing chess with himself, the others are immediately smirking at him.

"Want me to take a picture?" Dave teases him quietly, barely suppressing a chuckle as he looks at you both fondly. "Who knows when it'll happen again."

"Yeah, I'll bet the mortification will be too much." Emily jokes softly, glancing at your slumped figure with a grin. Aaron knew she was right about that, he knew you'd be a bit embarrassed about falling asleep on your boss, and would probably be conscious about distance going forward.

JJ shakes her head and stirs her tea, chiming in with a lingering smile. "Let's not say anything about this. I already feel guilty about the whole NyQuil thing."

"Yeah, JJ, why honey?" Emily mumbles with a small snort, directing her attention to her blonde friend as they begin to engage in hushed conversation.

Dave snaps a photo of you and Aaron with a proud smile, probably already thinking of sticking it in his secret scrapbook.

"Dave." Aaron warns the older man with no actual heat. He puts his hands up and backs off with a smile, looking down to his phone again and typing on it.

Aaron has to suppress the small smile threatening to appear on his face, grateful for his team's high spirits despite their teasing. He looks back down to your peaceful face, unable to stop his eyes from tracing around your delicate features.

He's only drawn away from his gazing when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Drawing the device out from his suit pocket, he looks down at the notifications with an unimpressed frown.

Dave: *sent 1 photo*

Dave: stop drawing it out and just go get dinner together.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜'

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters' . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.6k

⟢ warnings: abusive parents, blood, cuts, head injury

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: i wrote this for fun and never expected to be posting it so i hope it's not bad... i actually never expected to be posting ever again but here i am ;) anyway i’d like to give this a part two (or more!) but i’m not sure what should happen next

An eerie silence overtook 12 Grimmauld Place on what had so far been an unremarkable summer night. 

Not even the usual sounds of activity fell upon your ears. No creaks from the old floorboards in the hallway outside your door. No scratches against your window from the oak branch that desperately needed trimming. 

No cracks from your father smacking one of your brothers for ‘disappointing’ him. No shrills from your mother fussing about whatever she decided would upset her that night. 

Nothing. 

It was complete, utter silence—a silence that would send a shiver down most people’s spine in a house like this. 

As ancient as it is, the walls had witnessed countless tragic displays from the Black ancestors who came before you. These walls are soaked in dark memories, and any visitor would attest that they seep negative energy, drowning those that stay too long. As a resident, you’ve grown used to the sinking feeling in your stomach that comes with being in this house of horrors.

Silent nights like this were something to be grateful for. You could lie in bed, close your eyes, and imagine you were anywhere else. Tonight, it was Hogwarts that you longed for. 

Perhaps you were in your dormitory, about to drift off after a long day of classes. 

Or perhaps you were in the library, studying in the quiet lull of busy students focusing on their work. Perhaps you were even there on a study date with a certain brunette Quidditch captain. Your brother would certainly have a conniption if he knew this particular boy invaded your daydreams. 

You almost drifted off to sleep as this fantasy played like a film on the back of your eyelids. Were those hushed voices you could hear? Had your imagination become so powerful that you could hear students whispering about their assignments? 

Certainly not. The voices were real and coming from somewhere in the house. Your brows furrowed and you strained to listen. Not to eavesdrop, but rather to determine where exactly these voices were coming from. 

You held your breath to listen more closely. Had the voices stopped? Just as you were settling back down to lose yourself in your imagination again, a long, blood-curdling scream jolted you upright from where you lay in bed. 

If you learned anything at the hands of your parents, it was how to discern what was happening just by the sound of your brothers’ screams. You could tell that the scream belonged to a very much in pain Sirius. But the intensity of it was nothing like you’ve heard before. You itched to run to his aid. 

"Don’t do anything."

A memory of Sirius’ voice echoed in your mind. 

"No matter what you hear, you stay in your room and you wait for one of us to come to you."

You always did what you were told, no matter how much you ached to check on your brothers in moments like these. After all, as your brothers claimed, it would only hurt them more if they had to watch what happened to them happen to you, especially if it was just because you wanted to see if they were okay. 

You were the youngest, technically only by two minutes when it came to Regulus, but still, both of your older brothers were fiercely protective over you.

Another spell of silence settled over Grimmauld Place after your brother’s scream. The only noise you could hear now was your heart beating out of your chest. 

That’s what you listened to for twenty long minutes. Your heart rate maintained its rapid pace, as it always did until you saw one of your brothers in the aftermath of the assault. 

Apart from your trembling hands, you sat completely still, waiting and waiting for one of them to come. The longer it took, the more fear built up in your stomach. 

Finally, the sound of booming footsteps landed on your ears as someone barreled up the staircase. Two steps at a time, heavy, and fast. This step pattern was easily distinguished as Sirius’, and you finally stood up from your bed, staring at your door impatiently. 

Sirius burst into your room like a bullet escaping the barrel of a gun. In one swift motion, your brother hauled your empty trunk out from under your bed and dropped it on top. 

He unlatched it and tossed it open, “We’re leaving. For good. Pack only the important stuff.”  

“What happened?” You reached for your brother's arm to force his attention toward you. He hadn’t looked you in the eye once since entering your room. 

His clothes were completely disheveled. As you scanned every thread that was out of place, you noticed that his body was twitching every now and then. His hands trembled, and there was blood on his fingertips. Looking up at his face, you saw the source of blood—a wound hidden behind his hair. He had smeared away what blood had trickled down his forehead with his hands. 

“You need to sit down.” You worried he could have a concussion. 

Sirius took you by the shoulders and thrust you in the direction of your wardrobe. “What I need to do is find out where our parents hide the bloody floo powder. Pack.” 

Sirius’ tone was authoritative and his grave expression made your mouth run dry. Before you could utter words of agreement, he was gone. 

With a wave of your wand, your school books and supplies packed themselves. Meanwhile, you tore through your wardrobe, grabbing the essentials. You moved on quickly to grab whatever else you couldn’t live without: photographs of you and your brothers, letters of love that were hidden behind mirrors, gifted trinkets that you’ve grown attached to, and an ancient bracelet adorned with emeralds. 

As you clicked your trunk shut, Sirius appeared once again with a crystal jar under his left arm, which also balanced his own trunk. His wand was held defensively in his other hand. 

“Let’s go,” Sirius said flatly.

You followed him closely down the stairs to the drawing room. 

Sirius placed the crystal jar on the mantle of the fireplace. You glanced back in the direction from which you came.

“And Regulus?” You asked, wondering where your twin brother was. He would be joining you, wouldn’t he?

Sirius had an unreadable look on his face as he paused to answer you. Before he could, the shrill voice of your mother interrupted, “What do you think you are doing!?”

Sirius grabbed you forcefully by the arms and shoved you into the fireplace. Your right elbow scraped across the brick like chalk as Sirius was acting too fast to be careful. 

“Don’t you dare!” your mother bellowed and began casting hexes straight at you and your brother, aiming to maim. Luckily, Sirius was quite skilled with protego after all these years. 

In between casting protection spells, Sirius shoved his hand into the crystal jar and collected a heap of floo powder. He thrust the soft, emerald powder into your palm. “Go to the Potters! I’ll be right behind you.”

As always, you did what your brother told you to. In a flash, you were stumbling into the cozy living room of the Potter's house in Godric’s Hollow. 

Your eyes and mouth were filled with soot, and you nearly tripped on the carpet as you stumbled blindly away from the fireplace. Instead of falling, you ran right into something solid. Calloused hands landed on your upper arms. You blinked soot from your eyes to meet the gaze of James Potter. 

“What’s happened?” His tone was laced with worry as he scanned your body for injuries. He gently picked up your right arm, inspecting the scuffed, bleeding skin. He winced as if the injury was his own. 

You didn't answer. Instead, you turned to watch the fireplace. Feelings of anxiety swirled in the pit of your stomach as you waited for your brother. You thanked Merlin when he arrived just a few moments later. 

He was coughing when he stepped in and fell to the ground almost immediately.

James regarded you briefly, holding his hands out to you as if to say “hold on” before leaving your side. He rushed to his best friend and yelled for his parents as he tried to determine the problem. Sirius’ skin began to swell and turn sickly shades of red. You recognized this as the effects of your mother’s stinging jinx. 

James’ parents rushed into the room with panic written across their faces. They were in their nightwear and had their wands at the ready to defend their boy from any trouble he might be in. As they took in the scene in front of them, they discarded their wands and quickly came to yours and your brother’s rescue. 

Fleamont Potter offered to take you to a guest room, insisting that you shouldn’t see your brother like this. You refused, wanting to stay with Sirius as Euphemia worked quickly to counteract the stinging jinx. Fleamont, like James, couldn’t hide the worry from his face as you settled in on the couch. 

Your eyes were trained on your brother, but you began to feel sick watching him in all that pain. You shifted your gaze to the empty fireplace and wondered if Regulus would be the next to come through. You tried to shut out your other brother’s groans and cries as you stared desperately into the fireplace. 

With a mix of Euphemia’s healing spells and the application of some herby poultice that was perviously prepared by Fleamont, Sirius’ swelling subsided and his groans turned into occasional whimpers. 

You were able to stomach looking at Sirius again, but your face still showed levels of worry and unease. 

Almost as soon as your eyes fluttered back to Sirius, James took notice of your worry. Confident in his mother's ability to tend to any other injuries Sirius may have, he to came you. 

He moved slowly, as if approaching a frightened cat. You didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Y/N,” He called gently, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You tore your gaze away from your older brother to look into the young Potters’ eyes.

“I don’t know why Regulus isn’t here,” you told James. You just wanted someone else to share this concern with. 

James chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Well… when Sirius is better, we’ll find out what he knows about that. Okay?”

Your lower lip trembled as you choked out, “I’m scared for him.”

James offered a sad smile, “I know. We’ll find out as soon as we can, alright? But all we can do for now is make sure you and Sirius are okay. Let me take care of you, yeah?” 

You let your gaze drift away from James and back to your brother once again. He seemed to be in good hands with Euphemia and now Fleamont. 

You nodded, giving James the okay. He had a gentle hold on your upper arm as he led you up off the couch. You followed him through his house until he guided you into the bathroom and sat you down on the lid of the toilet. 

James sifted through the bathroom cabinets until he pulled out a yellowing pouch, stained with age, and a washcloth which he saturated with warm water. 

James held out a hand toward you. “Can I take care of that elbow, m’dear.”

You placed your forearm in James’ palm while his other hand got to work on cleaning your cut skin. As gentle as James was being, you winced anyway. Seeming fearful of causing you more pain, James managed to be even gentler.

Once satisfied, James lost the washcloth and dipped his hand into the pouch that he recovered from the cabinet. The contents he pulled out look considerably fresher than the bag itself, thankfully. 

First, he took out bandages, followed by a clear jar that contained a sticky looking yellow jelly. He scooped up a generous amount on his pointer finger and applied it to your skin. 

As he worked, he kept stealing glances at you, building up the courage to ask what all the Potter’s were surely wondering that night. He decided to bite the bullet, “Do you think you can tell me what happened?”

You explained all that you knew, detailing the events from the moment you heard your brother’s scream to the moment you fell into James’ arms. 

“Don’t know what they did to make him scream like that.” You shuddered at the possibilities. 

James was applying a bandage to you now. “‘S okay. He’s doing better now. My parents probably have him all tucked in bed and fast asleep.” 

James endearingly tapped your nose, “Let’s do the same for you, yeah?”

“I wanna talk to Sirius,” you protested. 

“Like I said, my parents probably have him in bed by now. Come on, I promise we’ll get all your questions answered first thing in the morning.”

You sighed but agreed. James led you through his house once again: up the stairs, down the hall, and through the third door on the left. It was a small room with just a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. 

“Just a moment,” James said and disappeared into the hall. Seconds later, he was back with a Gryffindor t-shirt and some sweats. “Here, you can wear these. I’ll bring your trunk up in the morning.” 

James dipped out of the room once again to give you privacy to change. As you removed your shirt, you noticed bloody fingerprints on the shoulder and sleeves where Sirius had held onto you. You threw the shirt into the bin under the desk. 

Once dressed in James’ loaner clothing, you sat on the bed. Light knocks peppered the door and you called for, presumably, James to come in. James entered with a glass of water in hand. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a few sips from the glass before handing it back. He placed it on the desk for you. 

James then helped you settle into the flowery, purple sheets, “Comfy?” 

You nodded up at him. 

“I’m, uh, just across the hall, alright?” James turned to leave. He stopped by the light switch and looked back at you. 

He took notice of your expression, which brought a frown to his lips. Your eyebrows were drawn in as you stared straight ahead at the wall and the corners of your mouth were turned down slightly. You barely even blinked as James studied the far away look in your eyes. 

James wanted to be by your side. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and tell you everything would be alright. But something about kissing you while your brother, his best friend, lay injured and clueless down the hall made him feel guilty. 

James sighed and flicked off the light. The door was pushed into its frame, but James hadn’t left the room. Instead, he approached the bed and sat on the edge of it by your feet. You pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at him curiously. 

“Gonna keep you company till you fall asleep, that okay?” James whispered an explanation. 

You’re not sure if he could see your nod in the dark, but you were too tired to use your voice. 

You sank back into the pillow and allowed your eyes to shut. A light pressure could be felt on your calf. James had rested his hand there, over the blanket. He slowly dragged his hand up and down, and you let his stroke lull you to sleep. 

The last thing you heard before drifting off into a dream was a quiet whisper from James' lips, "'M gonna keep you safe here."

next part

[shuacore]

kissing a bruise (m)

vernon x gn!reader 2.1k tags: implied f2l, swearing, fluff, making out, handjobs (m receiving)

you’re awoken by a loud crash and the sound of books (and maybe a body) falling to the floor.

“ow! shit!”

groggy, you shuffle into the living room to see vernon clutching his elbow, face twisted in pain. you frown, blinking sleep out of your eyes and step closer.

vernon groans, holding his head. “sorry… didn’t mean to wake you.”

“it’s two in the morning,” you stifle a yawn and crouch down next to him. “what could you possibly be doing?”

vernon pinches his face as he peers at his arm, eyes watering. “i just wanted to grab a book from the shelf but my foot slipped and i fell into the corner of the table.”

“from the top shelf? that you can’t reach?”

“aish… stop, i feel stupid enough already,” vernon pouts, hand pressed to his wounded arm. gently you peel his fingers away to see a new gash above his elbow, red and raw.

“i think it’s broken,” vernon whines, and you shake your head.

“vernon, it’s not even bleeding,” you snort. vernon is a total puss when it comes to pain. you sigh, dropping his arm and look around. “ok, fine, hang on.”

the wound isn’t serious enough to warrant true first aid, but you grab the kit anyway to assuage vernon’s ego. he hisses as you press a clean cloth to the cut.

“hey! ow–be careful, man!”

“you’re such a baby,” you tease without venom. vernon sighs and says nothing. (he’s pouting.) after wrapping his arm with gauze, you give vernon’s dressing a once over and nod in satisfaction.

“alright, come here. let’s get a look at you,” you say, tucking your feet under you.

you take vernon’s face in your hands, eyes skipping over the familiar scars and freckles for anything astray, gently brushing his fringe away from his forehead. lo and behold, you find a small cut just near his temple.

“oh dear. nurse, i think we’ve found the root of the problem,” you chide and vernon tries to kick your hip with one of his feet.

first is cleaning, then dressing. while your hands are busy, you peer up at vernon from under your lashes and smile gently. his side profile is pulled into a pout, his brow pinched. you’ve always been so jealous of his eyelashes, how they soften his eyes and the sharp planes of his face. his lips are parted, chapped as always. the mole under his lip stares back at you.

vernon coughs. you realize you’ve been staring and clear your throat, readjusting your hold on the cotton ball.

“stop moving,” you scold, as vernon fidgets. he tries in vain to suppress a smile on his lips.

down in the depths of the kit, you manage to find a tiny bandaid and take great care in placing it on vernon’s temple, cupping his other cheek in order to press it lightly around the edges. your fingers linger in the dark strands around his ears as your thumb skirts over the bandage. you feel his breath on your forearm. he smells like laundry detergent. and vanilla.

and maybe it’s because nothing smart ever happens at two in the morning, but just for good measure you lean in and press your lips to the bandaid, right over his new injury.

vernon freezes.

oh.

your heart stutters in your chest and you jump away like you’ve been burned. heat rushes to your face.

“i–i don’t–“ you stutter, scooting backwards. “sorry. that was weird.”

“what was that for?” vernon’s asks, voice hushed. his eyes are blown wide, an unfamiliar look flickering at the edges. your stomach flops over itself and you jump to your feet, almost knocking over a cup on the coffee table.

“sorry, i didn’t–”

“hey,” vernon blurts out, clumsily getting to his feet, too. his cheeks are dusted pink. “it’s fine. we’re good.”

you hide your face behind your hands and turn away, heat traveling up the back of your neck to your ears. fuuuuuuuuck.

“sorry that was so stupid, um–“

“hey,” vernon urges, hand reaching out to snag your arm. your heart seizes in your chest. his eyes search your face, imploring. “what’s happening? what’s going on?”

you raise an eyebrow. “sorry–“

vernon frowns. “stop saying sorry.”

“s–“ you swallow your words. and then take a breath. vernon’s eyes are burning a hole through the side of your face but you can’t look at him. you’re afraid of what you’ll see.

“will you just look at me?”

ha! fuck.

you take another breath and force your neck to turn, suddenly engulfed by an ocean of deep brown, wise beyond their years, deeply familiar. vernon smiles–the same boyish grin he always gives when you’re spiraling out of control.

“hi,” vernon murmurs and takes a step forward.

“hi,” you whisper. your exhale ruffles the hair on his forehead. you’re practically nose to nose with him. “sorry.”

vernon rolls his eyes. “dude, it’s not a big deal. i’m just surprised.”

somehow you find your voice among the trepidation. “you just looked so…”

“yeah?” he says. his fingers slide from your elbow to your wrist. his thumb presses against the pulse point. all you can do is stare in disbelief. this was not how you expected him to respond. “so…what?”

“vern…”

“don’t do that,” vernon whispers, close enough to see the flecks of gold around his pupils, flashing in the lamplight. he leans forward. his nose bumps against your cheek. your heart stutters in your chest. the lamplight throws his face into stark relief: high cheekbones, angled jawline, a gently sloped nose.

he pauses when you don’t back away. vernon’s eyes are wide, uncertain; you see your own nerves reflected in them. you cup his cheek with your free hand, thumb skirting over the same acne scars you noticed earlier and his eyelashes flutter with every touch.

vernon’s eyes flick down to your lips, breath shallow. you wish you could swallow but your throat has gone completely dry. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and wavers, eyes flicking back to yours before his thumb swipes at the corner of your mouth. it’s a little bit mean of him considering he still has his other thumb pressed against your pulse and can feel every jump of your heart rate. he must be thinking the same thing because he grins. you’ve never breathed so little in your life.

vernon leans in—just another breath away from closing the chasm between you—when he hesitates. your heart sinks to your stomach as he begins to pull back. just as you feel like you’re about to short-circuit, vernon surges forward, cupping your face in both hands, and brings your mouths together.

you gasp, lips falling open as he tilts your head back, leaning into you so deeply you think you’ll fall apart right here. his lips are so dry—he’s never been one to use chapstick even though you keep nagging him to—and a little clumsy, but you can’t even get yourself to care. you would let vernon consume you whole if it meant he would keep holding you like this. one of his hands creeps through your tangled hair to grip the back of your head. every inch of your skin feels like it’s alive with electric current.

vernon pulls away much too early for your liking, a small whine escaping from your throat. his brow is furrowed.

“are you sure?” vernon whispers, voice cracking. you hold back a groan. now is not the fucking time.

“god, shut up,” you say, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt, swallowing his trepidation and your last shred of self-control all in one. all of the times you’ve fantasized about kissing your best friend hardly compare to the real thing, feeling vernon give and take under you as you knot your fingers in his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he moans, hands finding their way to your ass, pulling you into his lap. there’s so much spit it might be gross, but everyone knows nothing good ever happens at two in the morning, and all you know is the burn where your heart sits in your chest. you scrape your nails against his scalp and sigh into his mouth, feeling his fingers dig into your thighs.

“you taste so good,” vernon moans. you tug on his hair, just enough to look at him; at his pupils all blown-out and dark, at the spit smeared across his bottom lip, at his brow still furrowed. you tug on his bottom lip, your thumb just barely catching on his teeth and kiss him again, your hand circling his throat. his palms slide up and down your hips and thighs. but it isn’t until you feel him hard against your thigh that you freeze.

you pull back again, eyebrows raised. vernon’s face is flushed, red all the way down his neck. he averts his eyes. his hands are searing hot against your bare skin.

“excited to see me?” you ask, biting back a grin. it’s an innocent enough question. just for good measure you shift in his lap, grinding down ever so slightly. vernon swallows a groan as his jaw clenches. nervously, he flicks his eyes back to you and jerks his head—yes.

where this bravado came from, you’ll never know. but you don’t question it as you spit in your hand and slip under the waistband of vernon’s sweatpants and his calvins, feeling the weight of his cock against your palm.

your eyes never leave his face as your wrap your fingers around his shaft, practically moaning with him as he drops his head back. with your free hand you bring your mouths back together, teeth sinking into vernon’s bottom lip as you twist your palm around his cock, drinking in the strangled sounds coming from his mouth. his nails bite into your thighs as you drag your thumb over the head of his cock, teasing. he swallows another moan.

“i wanna hear you,” you whisper against his cheek, pressing a kiss there as you speed up the strokes of your other hand. vernon’s breaths come in short pants, his stomach tightening the closer he gets to release. “for me,” you add on, biting at a spot right under his jaw.

“oh, god, baby” vernon curses, and the pet name runs straight through you, “don’t stop.” his voice has gone weak, hips jerking as he throws his head back in pleasure. your hand is slick with pre cum and spit, and you smile against his cheek again as he lets out one last desperate groan and comes loudly, hot and wet all over your hand.

your chest heaves as vernon buries his face in your neck, eyes squeezed shut as he comes back down to earth.

“good boy,” you murmur, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth before slipping your hands from his pants. vernon just sighs, bone deep.

“what just happened?” he rasps.

“i believe,” you tease, “we just made out and i gave you a handjob.”

vernon scrunches his nose. “wow…. romantic.”

you laugh and slide off of his lap, about to get to your feet when vernon pulls you back. he loops an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“vern, i have to wash my hand,” you whine. “but i will be right back, okay? promise.” he lets you go only after pinky promising and you shuffle down the hall to the bathroom.

as you wash your hands you stare at your reflection in the mirror. who are you? what the fuck just happened??? your knees feel weak as you stumble back to the living room. vernon is right where you left him on the floor, looking distinctly hazy and a little fucked out. you smile to yourself, kneeling to straddle him again. his hands find their way to your waist like it was second nature.

“thank you, nurse,” vernon teases against your throat, pressing one last kiss to your pulse point, and you groan, tipping your head against his shoulder. “i feel so much better now.”

“you’re lucky if this happens again,” you say, ignoring the way his fingers play with the hem of your shirt. “this can’t be a thing.”

vernon grins as one of his hands slips under your shirt. you feel a new rush of heat to your stomach.

“who says?”

—

a/n: i swear this started off as a little thought abt kissing a bruise and then it turned into….this… IDK !!! SUE ME !!!! i want him……..

more stuff! :3

[callme-holly]

what about 20.bandaging/stitching up an injury paired with 10.hiding their face in the other’s neck with darry? (please❤️)

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - this took me way too long to get out so sorry y'all. my mental health has kinda gone on a silly little rollercoaster so my posting might be a little all over the place i'm still taking requests from both this prompt list and this one!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 579 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - brief mentions of fighting (i think)

The living room is unnaturally quiet, not a single word being said amongst the boys, the only sound being the muffled drone of the TV and the occasional sharp intake of air from Darry as you clean the cuts and scrapes littering his knuckles.

His already patched up hand rests lightly on your hip, keeping you steady in his lap as you work on his other hand,  his thumb gently rubbing circles into your skin under your shirt, a small gesture that you have become increasingly used to since you’ve known him. 

You run the wet cloth across his beaten knuckles once more, mumbling a soft apology when he winces slightly at the sharp sting. 

“It’s fine,” he mutters quietly, squeezing your hip briefly in reassurance, his gaze drifting to the rest of the boys. 

It’s never this quiet after a rumble; everyone is usually bursting with energy, waiting for the adrenaline high to wear off. But it’s been over twenty minutes since they returned home, and hardly anyone has spoken, the air in the room filled with a heavy sense of exhaustion, which is only further confirmed by the way everyone is slumped against one another. 

“Are you gonna stay the night?” Darry asks suddenly, his voice rough from disuse and tiredness, hushed so that only you can hear him. 

You glance up from where you were wrapping his injured knuckles, giving him a small smile in response before dropping your gaze once more.

“If you want me to,” you reply, nodding your head in response. You know he’d probably benefit from you staying; although he’d never admit it, you can sense his built up stress, how tensely wound he still remains despite your best efforts to calm him down, and you know it’d do him the world of good to be in the presence of someone perhaps a little more grounding than the other boys. 

Darry nods slowly in response, shifting you ever so slightly in his lap before leaning forward and pressing his lips to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back with a sigh. A fresh bruise is blossoming just below his eye, and you frown slightly at the sight of it, cupping his cheek tenderly before placing a quick kiss there. He leans into your touch easily, closing his eyes as you pull away. His arms tighten around you, a sure sign that he wants to keep you close, and you don’t fight it, settling yourself more comfortably into his lap, his hand sliding slowly along the fabric of your top.

You decide now is the best time to pack away the first aid kit, all of the boys cleaned up and taken care of. You set the box aside, letting out a small sigh of relief as you sit back once more, tucking your face in the crook of his neck. He hums softly in response, his fingers combing through your hair absently, removing any ounce of worry and stress you'd built up over the rumble. 

You’re content to stay just like this, listening as the boys finally begin to relax, one by one succumbing to exhaustion, the hum of commercials on the TV becoming quieter until it’s nothing but background noise. 

You stay like that a while longer, eventually lulled to sleep by the comforting weight of Darry’s arms wrapped securely around you, and the sound of his gentle breaths that match yours.

[ca-8]

"Thank You, Angel..." (Part 1 of ???)

Silence screamed.

Drops of decay either echoed in the distance or fell inches from his withered nose. They aided in the cackles and chirps and growls that erupted from within each shadow. Each shadow that held home of the little critters with those little desperate, famished white eyes and wide toothless grins ready to devour anything with even a hint of a pulse. And when those critters couldn't stand the empty pits of their stomachs, those cackles and chirps and growls and drops of decay sang along with the tormenting squelches and tears of his miserly flesh ripping off and into those widened, toothless grins. And when they were done, after hours of slow, burning agony and screaming filling their stomachs, and the decay hushed to sleep as those horrible little critters scurried off toward their master -

silence screamed.

DogDay hated it all. He hated each sound of falling wood or concrete or spare intestine hitting the floor. He despised the critter's sounds as they drew near. But most of all, he hated the silence, because it was a constant reminder that his friends were gone and no hope gave a breath.

All alone. Always alone. With nothing but a wonder as to when he would finally draw his last breath.

Poppy's words once gave him back a lifelike glimmer. She speculated that someone had to come back here to save them all, an ex-worker, a total stranger -

an Angel, perhaps.

Just someone, anyone who can release them of this constant, lingering, rotting despair.

But so much time has passed. DogDay lost count at…he didn't even know, it's just been years and years and years, perhaps even decades. An eternity of this sickening silence since the day their revolutionary feast took place.

That glimmer was smothered out long ago.

.

.

.

.

.

Were those footsteps?

Not the little pitter-patter of those godforsaken critters, no - human footsteps. They were distant, but carefully drew near. As they closed the distance, a shriek from those little monsters echoed throughout the prison.

DogDay's head perked up, but only slightly. If he had a little more energy he'd call out for help, and more certainty too. Maybe he was finally going mad. Maybe what's left inside his head is feeding him false hope with these made up sounds hinting to a rescue.

No, not a rescue. Whatever he had left was drowned in the past.

His head slumped back down, and critter's shrieks halted. But the footsteps grew closer. DogDay didn't want to remove his gaze from the floor and risk disappointment, he knew it was nothing, that even if someone managed to sneak in here, there was no way they would survive this hell. He knew that thing was right, no one was coming to save-

"Oooooh nooo…"

His head sprung up, earning a little gasp from a

a human. An actual human, standing right there in front of him. It - They - couldn't be a hallucination, could it?

No. No hallucination. No human either. With how those lights beamed down on their glowing, moving skin and illuminating the life in those eyes, this was a blessing from Above. "Hello…?"

DogDay realized they were inching closer, but he was too stunned to flinch or tell them to get away. He could only voice his stagger.

"You…You're Poppy's Angel," he choked out through his voice box. "Come to save us…!"

The Angel blinked. "Uh, yeah…" Their eyes were widened; no surprise, anyone not too familiar with this decrepit place would be shocked to see him like this. A pathetic, filthy excuse of a dog wasting away. That's what they were thinking. They had to be. "Nothing left to save, not here…" He held his head back down.

"What're you talking about?" Their voice was as sweet as honey, so filled with life.

"You're in CatNap's home, Angel. Their home." Just saying that thing's name left a disgusting bittersweet taste in DogDay's mouth, but he was given a second chance at being useful, he had to take it.

"A million of pairs of eyes are on you right now," he continued. "Watching…waiting….hungry." A faint spark of terror flooded the (e/c) in those beautiful, breathing eyes. "They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit." He spat out the last word before heaving in a gasp. "…fill what feels empty inside themselves."

"I-Is that…what happened to you, DogDay….?" they asked, eyeing the bitter remains of his lower half.

They knew his name. He appreciated that, although couldn't express it too much. "I'm afraid so, Angel. Because of…that…that thing. CatNap. The Prototype is his god, and this is what he does to heretics."

The Angel snuck a glance at the darkened hallway outside their halo and quickly returned their gaze to DogDay. He continued.

"These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate, and in return, they are fed." DogDay coughed. Black substance spewed out of his mouth and onto the floor. "We tried to fight it, the Prototype's control. I'm…the last of the smiling cri-"

His right arm fell to his side.

…Wait.

DogDay's ears bucked up and he turned to his side. His right arm dangled heavily right by his torso, and the belts that were supposed to be supporting it up to the ceiling were cut short. His gaze whirled to his left side and saw the Angel reaching up to cut off the other belts.

"Angel! Wh-Wh-What're you doing?" he frantically yelped, swinging his torso back and forth.

"Sorry to cut your speech-thing off so quickly, but I think we may have a problem!"

It was at that moment DogDay heard the heightening shrills and screeches from the critters. A sharp chill ran down him and his heart stopped. They were coming; so many were coming! Coming for him! He was about to die if they couldn't get away!

"Angel, please, go! Leave me! Save yourself!" he pleaded desperately. A growl erupted right next to his ear, and DogDay turned to come face-to-face with a miniature Bobby Bearhug. A scream almost escaped his throat until a small flare flew past his face and shot mini Bobby back into the darkness.

"I'm sorry, but could you stop moving so much? This is hard enough as it is!" As they said that, their knife (which he noticed was strangely colorfully patched together) cut through the first of the two left belts. His body darted right towards the floor, but not until Angel caught him with their arm.

"Angel PLEASE! I beg you!" Tears pricked his empty sockets. The shrills were so loud they might as well be on top of them.

But the Angel kept their gaze glued onto the last belt, and as soon as mini CraftyCorn entered the cell, he was finally free.

The Angel hopped down and kicked mini CraftyCorn back into DogDay's worst nightmare: a sea of predators mirroring his friend's appearances. The Angel spun around and ran the opposite direction.

"Don't worry, I got yo- OOOOOO-!!!" The floor collapsed beneath them, and they landed right onto the bottom floor. Well, more like the Angel fell right onto the floor with DogDay cushioned safely on top of them.

This couldn't possible get any worse.

DogDay tried turning his head. "Angel? Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean it! I didn't mean for this to happen! I swear!" He wanted to get off of them to ease whatever pain they were in, but his arms were held up for so long, he could barely even feel anything in them anymore. 'Pathetic! I'm pathetic!'

"I'm fine…I think-!" The Angel got up and sprinted to the end of the hallway. "Just don't look back!"

They held DogDay in a position where his only option was to look back. Snuggled tightly underneath their arm, he watched as a tsunami of critters dashed towards them, snarling with hunger. Hunger for him and his Angel.

He whimpered loudly until they spun him around. "Sorry-! Sorry! I got you!" A flash of another critter was summoned to the right, then suddenly wished away by the bright flash of the Angel's flare. DogDay couldn't do anything, only let his heart squeeze and whimper at the sudden sight of painful reminders until they're blown away by the Angel. He looked up, their gaze was locked forward, doing what he should be doing.

But he couldn't. He was worthless. Just like that day.

The poor withered dog squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't watch anymore. If it weren't for his weak arms, he would cover his ears as the screams of the damned drew ever so near, or maybe do something actually useful. He felt himself get heaved up and a sudden wind blew against his tattered face. Then, he was lowered, and the Angel gasped for air.

Where were they going? Was there even an exit? He couldn't look. He didn't want to look. If he opened his eyes he would only see the Angel get devoured and it would be all his fault.

It wasn't until they were both thrusted into the air that his eyes were finally forced open. Below them was a deep pit of darkness with the critters nearing the edge they hurled over. For a second, he thought they had jumped towards an everlasting sleep, until the Angel landed right onto a lift.

The door shut behind them, and devastating shrills and shrieks were muffled. They were….safe. DogDay was safe, and the Angel didn't die. He hadn't killed them after all.

The Angel gently lowered him onto the floor of the lift and pressed the button to lower them back into, if he could remember correctly….Playcare. They collapsed onto the floor, and the thud snapped him back to reality.

"Angel! Are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm so sorry!" DogDay tried to haul himself towards them until they let out a strange chuckle.

"That…holy shit. That was awesome! But also terrifying. And tiring. God, my legs, I'll be surprised if I can even walk once we get down there. What were those things? You called them critters? I kinda feel bad for thinking they were kinda cute now, SHEESH those little devils were relentless!"

The Angel went on and on and on and…not a hint of anger was on their face. DogDay only stared at them in disbelief. They hopped on their knees and leaned closer to him, making him flinch.

"Anyways, are you okay? I don't know why you're asking me, you're clearly the one who needs help here! How long have you been down here? Actually don't answer that. What happened to you-? Wait, wait, don't answer that either, sorry!"

"You…." He finally choked out something. "You…saved me."

"…Well yeah!" A big smile graced their lips. How were they glowing even brighter than before?

"You…You saved me…!"

"….Yeah! Go team!"

Something was building up in his throat. More tears streamed down his face, but there weren't any rivers of regret or disappointment or self-hatred… DogDay leaned into his Angel's chest.

"Oh, hello!" they said cheerfully.

DogDay sniffed and looked up, and for once, a big, genuine smile filled his face. "Thank you, Angel…! Thank you so much!"

They froze there for a second, and their stunned expression melted to that of warmth. He felt their hands wrap around him and gently caress his back. Nothing could ever feel more soothing.

Softly, they giggled. "Hey, call me (Y/n), alright? You're giving me too much credit." ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙

Hey guys! Like what ya saw? Well you can commission your own private piece now!! Read more about that here! Thanks so much for reading, and have a great day!~ 💜💜💜

[br7ght]

Basking in the Morning Glow Jenni Hermoso x Alexia Putellas x Reader

summary: You've been alone for two weeks while your girlfriends have been at an international training camp. This is the first morning you've all woken up together and I think it's pretty clear you've been feeling a little touch starved.

warnings: threesome, thigh riding, fingering (r receiving), praise.

pairing: jenni hermoso x alexia putellas x reader

word count: 1,700 words

SMUT 18+

Based on this ask here :) @occasionallyaurora <3

Jenni’s eyes flutter open, her body enveloped between your thighs bringing a smile to her face almost immediately. Sunlight peeking through the slit in the curtain, leaving a streak of light falling flush against your face, like your own personal spotlight. This is how you wanted to wake up every morning, your body curled tightly into Jenni’s, your head nestled gently in the crook of her neck, her chin resting against the top of your head, leaving her able to place gentle kisses to your scalp. Alexia’s arm was protectively wrapped around you, her body flush up against your back, curving her body symmetrically to yours.

Jenni watched as Alexia drew shapes into your arm, sharing hushed whispers between one another in an attempt to not wake you up until you were ready. The TV was on the lowest volume, both girls watching the football highlights for the previous week, enjoying their early morning as you three were back together for the first time in two weeks. With Jenni and Alexia playing for Spain and you playing for England, you often found yourself alone during international camps. It wasn’t jealousy as such, but when you were lying in bed struggling to get to sleep, you knew that the two of them were sharing a bed and always had each other. It was moments like this that you savoured, knowing that they’d do anything to make up to you for being gone for so long.

Jenni and Alexia’s voices became louder, presuming you were in a deeper sleep, but when Jenni felt your face scrunch against her neck her voice stopped, waiting for you to come out of your early morning slumber. She feels your hips start to move gently against her thigh, slowly grinding your body as you start to wake up. Jenni taps Alexia on the shoulder as they both notice your subtle movements, trying to gain any level of friction that you could. Last night when all of you had arrived home, the three of you had just enough energy to get cuddled up and had quickly fallen asleep. You hadn’t been touched in almost a month and neediness was overtaking your body. You could barely control yourself against the toned thigh of the older woman.

Alexia had a massive grin on her face as she watched your hips grind harder, your eyes not even open yet and you still hadn’t said anything. Jenni intentionally flexed her thigh, trying to aid your attempt to feel something and the whimper that you let out told them both what you needed.

“Jenni.” You whined, the combination of the friction against her leg and Alexia’s hand twisting curls of your hair around her finger making you more and more needy. “Please.”

Jenni tilted your head up with the back of her two fingers, watching eagerly as your eyes fluttered open, your cheeks pink and flushed as you were met with the dark eyes of the smirking brunette. She shifted her thigh this time, pushing it up against your heated centre and a quiet moan dropped from your mouth. “Does that feel good? Are you enjoying getting off on my thigh already?” Her voice was laced with teasing, knowing how much you liked to hear her voice. All you could do in response was nod, a gentle whimper escaping your lips and your hips grinded quicker against her.

Wolfish smiles were shared between Jenni and Alexia as they both silently understood your neediness, but still wanting to watch you try desperately to get off from Jenni’s thigh in your subconscious state of early morning trance. Alexia can hear your whimpers getting stronger and she stops tracing the shapes against your arm, moving her hand underneath yours and trailing her fingers against your stomach.

“Please, I need you both.” You were growing impatient, her thigh not giving you what you really needed, the friction wasn’t adding up to anything, but it didn’t stop you from trying to move your hips quicker and harder against her leg. They could see your desperation radiating from your body, so Jenni stills your hips, her strong grip around your waist stopping you from moving.

“Jenni!”

“Princesa, I know, I know, but I think you’d enjoy yourself a bit more if Ale and I help you out hm?” She whispers against your ear, her breath causing the hairs on your body to stand, goosebumps gently covering your skin. You nod as you feel the warmth of Alexia’s hand resting just at the waistband of your sleep shorts, not daring to dip her hand any further, just tracing back and forth, teasing you softly.

“You want Jen and I to touch you cariño?” Alexia coos as Jenni joins her hand at your waistband. You don’t respond, just reaching down to pull the shorts from your hips, dragging your underwear down with them and kicking them off in a flurry of desperation. Jenni outstretched her arm, letting you lay your head against the tattoos while Alexia’s hand carefully opened your legs, hooking your thigh over her body so they were both able to see your arousal pooling at your folds.

“God, please fuck me, please.” They were still both just looking at you, their eyes darting between your body and each other, “Please.” That was the final beg you needed, and Jenni’s hand was the first to dip below your naval, groaning lowly at the wetness that she finds, gathering it all between her fingers.

Alexia was kissing your back, nipping, and soothing at your skin and it was all just teasing you, but the heat of her mouth against your shoulder was enough to push you over the edge at this point. You’d gone way too long without this.

“Please, no teasing.” You plead, Jenni’s finger swiping across your folds but not touching you anywhere that you so desperately needed her. Your head buried itself into the raven-haired woman’s neck, pulling her in with your hand as your hips involuntarily buckled at the gentle touches. “Jen please, Ale, anyone.” With that, Jenni pushes just one finger into your entrance, but the sinful moan that leaves your mouth is one that was only going to encourage them more.

“Oh princesà, you sound so pretty, does that feel good?” Jenni asks, thrusting her wrist into you, adding another finger as you nod and moan against her neck. With the curling of her fingers finding your spot, your hips were moving to meet her thrusts, needing some contact with your clit. Alexia spotted the opportunity, adding her fingers to the mix, finding your clit with her fingertips. “Did you miss this cariño?” Alexia asked, the smirk on her face not leaving as your moans became stronger and higher pitched.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes.” Your words were strung with whimpers and laboured breaths. With the gentle circles against your clit, she felt your head leaning back into Alexia, the blonde resuming her kissing, but now finding your neck, etching planned marks into your skin with each nip of her teeth as her circles got smaller and more precise around your bud.

“Such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Jenni speeds up again with her praise, watching your face twitch and your body grind against the two girl’s hands in desperate need for the release that was slowly building.

“What a shame that you had to go two whole weeks without us touching you baby, you’ve gotten so needy for us while we were gone princesà.” Alexia smiled, finding the rhythm against your clit that she could tell was going to make you tumble hard over the edge. Your nails were gripping anything you could grab onto, first Alexia’s arm before reaching for the back of Jenni’s neck, the two women protectively enveloping you between their bodies while they fucked you, getting you close to the edge you so desperately needed.

“Are you getting close baby?” Alexia teased, knowing the answer as your body trembled underneath the two women’s relentless rhythm, her head was resting on your shoulder, watching as you moaned and gripped your nails into the blonde’s arm, your eyes slamming shut.

“You know what to do then, all you have to do is ask princesà.” Jenni watched in awe as your body twitched to her touches, her fingers finding the perfect rhythm with Alexia’s circles against your clit, slamming her wrist into you, knowing you liked it when you could feel the power behind her arm.

“Please, can I come?” You ask, your voice shaking and whimpers leaving your mouth as you waited for permission, your orgasm choking your throat as you did everything you could to wait for them to tell you to. “Please Jen, Ale, I’ve been so good.” You pleaded; your lips clasped together in desperation as your release was fighting against their perfect rhythm.

“You can come cariño, come for us.” Jenni dictates and with a few more harsh thrusts and Alexia swirling her fingers continually against your clit you grabbed onto Jenni’s hair, your nails digging into her scalp as you felt the orgasm rip through your body, your eyes shut and hips uncontrollably moving with their hands. Every time you looked, they were both staring at you, watching as your body trembled from the aftershocks of the intensity of the climax, you’d just experienced. They worked you through it, gently slowing their movements allowing you to ride the entire thing out.

Jenni is the first to kiss you before she pulled her fingers out of you, gesturing her hand towards Alexia’s mouth which opened almost immediately and you watch as she locks eyes with you, taking her tongue up Jenni’s fingers, tasting you and moaning against her hand. “God, we really did miss you.” Alexia said once she’d finished cleaning Jenni’s fingers for her, a smile creeping up onto her face as she kissed your forehead. She pulled the duvet back over your body, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you close.

“We don’t like being away from you baby girl, you know that don’t you.” Jenni said sympathetically, joining in on the hug by snaking her arm around both you and Alexia. She was stroking through your hair, the warmth from both encapsulating you between them. The air was soft between them as you snuggled your head even closer into Jenni’s neck, holding Alexia’s hand in your own.

“I hate it, I missed you both so much.” You revealed honestly, both women squeezing harder around you.

“We’re home now,” one of your girlfriends says, you're unsure who though. Despite the morning light, sleep begins to consume you once again.

[fanged-fanfics]

hii! I was wondering if I could request a Wukong x GnReader where the readers sleeping schedule is….uh it’s not the best, that’s for sure! Like the reader just stays up all night doing work so they barely sleep? just how Wukong would try to help or something. Or if the bad sleep schedule thing ain’t getting your creative juices flowing just plain cuddle headcanons would be completely fine! Feel free to ignore this and remember to drink some water and take breaks! ^^

👑🧡 Sleep Aid — Wukong x GN Reader Drabble 🧡👑

Genres: Fluff, Romance || They/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Working into the dead of night wasn't unusual for you, it was commonplace if anything. Stuff needed to get done, and the daytime was usually filled with so much commotion, especially with the Monkey Gang you'd been frequently hanging around recently. You sighed a little as you put a page up just to grab another, filling out the next dreadful tasks. There was a small flash of gold outside that caught your attention, until the door opened and a familiar voice called out.

"I'm home! Where'd you go, peachfuzz?" Wukong called out. He usually ran late nights too, his work as a Sage never seeming to end even post-retirement. He walked into your shared space, zipping up to you and hugging you around the shoulders. "There you are!" He said as he pressed his cheek to yours. When he pulled back, he noticed the papers out. "You're still working? It's been hours" he asked with a concerned frown. You rubbed his hair gently as you turned more in your chair to face him better. "Yeah, but it's okay. I'm making progress" you reassured him. Despite the King leaning into your touch, he didn't seem any less worried. "Are you sure, bud? I don't want you pulling another all-nighter". "I'm sure. I'll be alright" you said, and Wukong gave a nervous hum. "Okayyy, but since I'm up I might as well help" he said. Before you could protest, he was already making his way into the kitchen.

When he came back, he had a few supplies in his arms. He draped a comforter around your shoulders, sliding a warm beverage on your desk. A kiss was placed to your temple as he gave you a plate of warm dinner. "Did you pull this out of your hair?" You asked teasingly, Wukong grinning as he pretended to be offended. "Me?! Never! You should know by now that I'm a great cook" he said, pulling up a chair to sit beside you. You chuckled as you replied, "I've seen you burn too much to even pretend that's true". "Hush," Wukong said playfully, his tail batting at you gently.

As the time wore on, Wukong kept you company. He commented on the work, told you stories to keep you entertained, but there was a slight plot behind his actions. He'd also gently rub your sore shoulders, keep the warmth of the blanket tucked around you, and made sure you finished up all your dinner. Only a few moments later, his gentle affectionate gestures coupled with the warmth and a full stomach made you drowsy. The second you began leaning on him more, he gently took the pencil from you and massaged the palm of your hand. "You okay, love?" He asked with a fond smile. You nodded. "Yeah, just-" a yawn escaped you "-can't seem to keep my eyes open". Wukong nodded, gently keeping you in the blanket as he lifted you into his arms. "I think that means it's bedtime, sunbeam". After you nodded and leaned into his embrace, he used his nimbus cloud to carry the both of you to bed. He gently placed you on the mattress, going back out to shut down the home for the night and put up the dishes.

When he came back, he handed you a set of pajamas and let you get dressed as he did the same in another room. When you were both done, he folded out the blanket he gave you across the covers, letting you curl into his arms. He made sure you were comfortably situated before nestling down with you. Every night he was getting you to go to bed a little earlier, secretly planning to adjust your sleep schedule little by little until you could get a regular full night's sleep. For now, he was happy to call tonight a victory as he kissed your forehead and closed his eyes for sleep

[writerdreamerwhatever]

If I can have the pleasure of making the first request...🫣 Can you do something with young Remus Lupin? Maybe something really silly and sweet, like, he and the reader are in a secret relationship (kind of to avoid the commotion that James and Sirius would make about the fact that he's dating at all) and somehow he ends up with a face full of faint lipgloss kiss marks, which not even the reader realizes about, until the other marauders notice and discover their secret. Maybe the reader will even join in and tease Remus with them a little?

Sorry if the idea is bad, pls don't feel obligated to do it. I'm really not good at this kind of thing...

Have a good day anyways ☺️

Kisses ~ Young Remus Lupin

“Remus, you’re limping! Please let me help you.” I whisper-yelled at Remus, walking through the corridors.

“I can do it.” He grunts, still in pain from yesterday’s full moon.

“Well, at least let me tend to your injuries!” Remus looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll do it myself.” He said, shaking his head, “I don’t want to be a burden.” He muttered under his breath.

I stopped him dead in his tracks

“A burden? Are you serious?” At that, Remus smirked

“No, Sirius is at the library waiting for us with James. We can’t be anymore late!” He replied quickly, resuming his walk towards the library.

“Sirius and James can wait. Remus, please, at least go to Madame Pomfrey so she can help. I really hate seeing you like that.” It really pained me seeing him in this hurt state.

Remus sighed and clutched his bag tighter.

“Fine, but come with me.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“You’ll take this right when you wake up and before you go to sleep for the next three days.” Instructed Pomfrey, giving Remus a vial containing a purple potion, “It should help restore your energy back.” With that, she left, going to aid another student.

“Are you happy now?” He asked me, smiling.

“I’m more than happy.” I leaned down, since he was sitting on one of the beds, and kissed him once on the lips.

Looking at him, I chuckled under my breath at the sight of a lipstick mark on his mouth. I decided to kiss him once again the cheek, leaving another mark. Opting against wiping it off, I thought he’d like a little teasing from his friends.

“Let’s go. We can’t make the boys wait any longer.” I grabbed his hand and made our way through the corridors and to the library.

Before entering, I released Remus’ hand, since the boys didn’t know about our relationship. Yet.

At the sight of us, James and Sirius perked up. But once we got closer, they noticed Remus’ face and started laughing. I knew exactly why.

“Hey guys.” Remus said, sitting down opposite them, taking out a book from his bag opening it, ready to study.

I plopped down next to him, and a chorus of hushed exclamations was heard.

“Do you know that red suits you well, Moony?”

“Had a lover and never told us, you traitor.”

Remus quickly lifted his head up, confused.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Sirius and James could only laugh at Remus’ face.

“W-What is it?!” Remus exclaimed looking at me, while I only shrugged, a slight smirk resting on my face.

He could only conjure a small mirror to look at himself. Once noticing, the realization of why they were laughing quickly downed on him.

“Wow, Remus, when were you going to tell us you had a girlfriend?” I asked, deciding to join the teasing, while the other two were dying of laughter.

Remus glared at me, but couldn’t help the smile that was appearing on his face.

“So? Who is it?” Sirius asked, still giggling a bit, nudging James with his elbow.

I leaned my head on my fist and looked at Remus, smiling sweetly. He sighed and glanced at me, chuckling before answering.

“You’d be dumb if you didn’t know who.”

I'm sorry I took too long to write this, but here it is! i hope you like it <3

[nerdytyrantphantom]

morning sex with joel | drabble (18+)

a sequel to cockwarming with joel. 18+ MINORS DNI

your body had memorized what time your alarm would sound. and so like clockwork, you’d awaken an hour early, the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains and illuminating the pixie dust that floated in the air. 

you’d wake up the same way you’d fallen asleep: on your side, with joel’s arms wrapped around you, the soft rise and fall of his chest undulating against your back, and his light sighs ghosting the crook of your neck. apart, neither of you slept, both tossing and turning throughout the night. but together, you two slept like rocks, encased in a blanket of safety and security knowing the other was there. if you had your way, you’d stay like this forever, fossilizing the moment in warm liquid amber. 

when you woke up, you genuinely tried your best not to wake joel. you’d only stroke the toned arm that held you, tracing the scars etched into his skin, counting each freckle that sprinkled the surface. but the longer that time passed, the more you found yourself stirring just a bit, involuntarily grinding your hips against him as your core grew wet with want.

right on cue, you’d feel joel rouse awake and exhale a deep yawn. with a lazy squeeze of your breast, like he was trying to make sure you were right where you left him, nothing had changed – and of course it hadn’t – joel would hum with content and nuzzle his face further into your neck. 

words weren’t needed. his hand would crawl up your chest towards the column of your neck, where his strong fingers would firmly grip. it wasn’t an aggressive or dominating move – rather a way for him to hold you in place as he guided his growing erection between your cheeks.

you’d smirk into the pillow as he gently bucked his hips, using your butt to warm himself up. your stomach somersaulted at the feeling of his cock hardening with each shallow thrust, the tip of him threatening to leak over your supple cheeks. “good morning, baby,” you’d purr, crossing your arms over his, refusing him from letting go of the hold he had on you. you’d arch your back into his touch, rolling your head back over his shoulder in surrender.

after his sleep, joel was full of energy. like a bear awakening from hibernation ready for its first meal, he would become full of carnal pangs, hungry and unsatiated – an appetite that needed to be fed. he’d testingly sink his teeth into your neck, softening his bite the second it became too sharp, and then tenderly lick the flesh that blossomed with a bruise, like he were delicately placing a band-aid. 

while his left hand remained wrapped around your shoulders, holding your neck in place, his right hand would slide between your thighs with lazy curiosity. his fingertips would glide up your lips, spooning up the wetness oozing from your core, before plunging his lubricated index finger into your heat. carefully, he’d massage your pussy, feeling your body buzz and clench around his digit. with a hum of satisfaction, his finger becoming soaked in your juices, he’d slip his middle finger in after it. 

for what felt like eternity most days, joel would do that. just hold your body flushed against him while he explored your insides, maintaining a leisurely pace finger-fucking you raw until droplets of perspiration collected on your forehead and pasted your hair to your face.

when you needed more, you’d tug his hand up to your lips, sucking his thumb into your mouth. “joel,” you’d whine, voice muffled by his finger. he’d continue to let you suck, pacifying your hushed pleas, while his fingers would teasingly move towards your clit. coated in your own juices, he’d wetten the small bundle of nerves with your own slick, drawing lazy circles over it until it was swelling like a flower in bloom. you’d cry out around his thumb, eyes prickling with tears at the pleasure. 

finally, he would speak. “come on, baby,” he’d encourage in a hushed whisper, nosing against your cheek. he’d kiss away the tears of ecstasy that streamed down your face. “tell me what you need, sweet girl.” 

eyes rolling into the back of your head, you’d release his thumb with a pop. “n-need you,” you’d whimper, mouth dry, as the blood rushed to your face. you got drunk off of joel – the sensation of his rough, calloused fingers toying with you like a plaything, the heat of his body radiating onto yours, the prodding of his cock still teasingly rubbing against your ass. “please, joel.”

he’d lower his hand from your lips and caress your jaw, delicately holding you like you were made of glass as he turned your face towards his. “shhh,” he’d coo, lips planting kisses all along your forehead, your cheeks, where your chin met your jaw. “‘gonna get you there, baby,” he’d promise, finally releasing his fingers from your clit and placing his hand on the inside of your thigh.

gently, he’d raise your leg before lining his cock with your entrance. at night, you were accustomed to him slowly working his way in, carefully easing himself inside with no rush or agenda. but now, when your pussy was dripping and begging to be filled, there was no need for patience. with one strong thrust, he’d push himself in until the thatch of hair above his cock pressed against your back.

you’d release a sharp cry followed by a sigh of relief. unable to restrain yourself, you’d shove back your hips, desperate for friction. “fuck,” you’d seethe, your hand reaching over your head to cling to joel’s hair. as your fingers threaded through his thick locks, you’d tug, a silent way of begging him for more.

joel knew what you needed and how to give it to you. he knew how to strike the perfect balance between gentle and rough, how hard he could push himself inside of you, and how to make you melt under a soft bouquet of kisses. and he knew when you were ready for him to guide you onto your stomach, making you parallel with the mattress, so that he could position himself as deep and close to you as possible.

flat on your stomach, you’d raise your hips for joel. what you two shared was a gift of reciprocity; you promised to give joel everything he wanted to take, and joel promised to deliver everything he had. with his arms caged around you, the comforting weight of his body pressed against your back, the wet squelch of joel stuffing you full was the only sound filling the air.

“fuck, baby,” joel would groan, his southern drawl and sleep-laced voice rocking further waves of arousal throughout your body. he’d lift himself up momentarily, watching the way his cock disappeared inside of you, while his palms would trace the contours of your back and shoulders. then he’d fall back down, burrowing his face back into your ear.

this was your favorite joel miller – the one who let you help him come undone and completely let go, living in the moment and allowing his body to be raptured in pleasure, unafraid to speak his mind. you’d listen to the unfiltered hymns spill from his mouth, savoring each word and phrase. “god,” he’d whimper, his body growing weak with pleasure. with his lips against your ear, his voice would travel throughout your body, straight to your heat, further clenching around him. 

as his own sweat dripped onto you, both of your faces framed in wet strands of hair that clung to your skin, he’d continue. “your pussy takes me so well,” he’d murmur, the speed of his words quickening as he neared his climax. “so warm and so wet.” he’d grunt as his hips pounded against you more sloppily, the wet smack of his thighs echoing in the sun-soaked room. “it’s all for me, isn’t it?” he’d ask – a rhetorical question – but one that drove him to the edge when you answered it. 

“yes, baby,” you’d plead, squeezing your pillow as joel hammered into you. the feeling of his body blanketing you was perfect, and despite the heat, you never wanted him to leave. “it’s all yours, joel,” you promised, grinding your hips up to meet his, close to your own orgasm. “always will be.”

a low groan fell from joel’s lips. he bucked his hips into you one, two, three times, before he was collapsing on top of you, your own shock of pleasure radiating throughout your body. as joel caught his breath, still buried against your ear, you closed your eyes and basked in the warmth of his cum filling you up and seeping from between your legs. you savored the moment for as long as it lasted, grateful to be joel miller’s escape.

“god, baby,” he’d pant, his sweat-soaked body still pressing against yours. “you’re so fucking perfect.” then he’d roll off of you, making you chest-to-chest, and pull you against him. with utmost tenderness, he’d swipe your hair out of your face, eyes taking in your tear-stricken ones, your rosy cheeks, swollen lips. 

his mouth would crack into a crooked smile as his fingers tucked your hair behind your ears. “you know that?” he’d ask, pecking the corner of your lips. resting his forehead against your own, he’d repeat it: “you’re perfect.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Yoriichi saving you just in time from getting killed by a demon

Pairing: Yoriichi x midwife!reader

Word Count: 4k

Synopsis: Your job takes you to the poor Kamado family, who are expecting their first child. But instead of a joyful birth, you are greeted by the cruel claws of a demon. What luck that an extraordinary swordsman shows up on this fateful evening.

Warnings: near death, injury, child birth, I'm not a midwife mystelf so this part isn't that detailed, lots of angst but comfort, this is my first demon slayer fic EVER so please show some support, I really appreciate it 🤍 (added 2 additional pics into the fanfic because I'm so amazed by the insane quality of these ai pics)

Tags: @froufrousnowman

„Excuse my rude interruption, but is this the Kamado residence?”

You are exhausted, sweat dripping from your forehead on this warm summer day, the sun shining down on you with all its strength. But you were called here, so you came. After all, this is your job. As a midwife by heart, you fear no weather when it comes to aid another woman by delivering her child.

“Yes, I am Sumiyoshi Kamado. Are you the midwife we were calling for?”

The man in front of you smiles at you kindly. You can tell by one look into his inviting eyes that he’ll be an amazing father. But before that, you have some work to do.

“That’s right, my name is (y/n). May I see your wife?”, you ask kindly, taking off the package of tools you were carrying on your back.

“She’s sleeping at the moment, but please allow me to lead you inside. Would you like to eat or drink something? I just cooked dinner!”

The excitement dripping from his voice really warms your heart. In times like these, gifting a child into the world seems like a burden, like an impossible task. It was in no way granted that an expected child was in any way welcomed. You’ve seen it all, the horrible things father and mother would do to prevent the new life from existing, how fate itself decided to stretch its hands out and take the child away from this earth way too soon. You’ve seen tears of joy, tears of grief, tears of despair. But oh, just one loving look of fresh mother and father into their babies’ tiny face is enough to make it all worth it for you.

“How did your wife feel within the last days? Did she complain about pain, especially in her back? Bleeding? Did she have to defecate more often than usual?”

Carefully, you place your tools onto a white cloth and disinfect your hands with strong alcohol when entering the room.

“She looks very peaceful, that’s great”, you hush.

What a beautiful woman she is, laying on her side with her hands covering her belly even while she sleeps safe and sound. Instinctively you kneel down next to her, gently caressing her cheek.

“This is your first child, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And I am beyond grateful you decided to help her even though we aren’t able to pay you decently. I wish I could give you more-“

“Please, don’t worry about it. I really enjoy being here. And if it helps your wife, no coins in the world are a better reward”, you interrupt with soft voice, looking down at her one last time before getting up and silently leaving the room along with her husband.

Your eyes dart towards the small window. How lovely the sunset looks today. Is it already this late? You must have been traveling for quite some time. As if on cue, your stomach begins to rumble. Well, maybe a cup of tea and something warm to eat would be a blessing right now.

“I am a little nervous. After all, I know nothing about the birth of children and how to care for them afterwards. But I love my wife so dearly, imagining a little child with her eyes truly makes me feel whole. Do you have any children yourself?”

What a kind man he is, sitting opposite to you with a cup of tea in his hand and his eyes glistening in the down-going sun. Despite the cruelness of the world, the tales of demons hunting down humans with what seems like no aim, all the bitterness and tears, this man was able to keep his warm smile and optimism.

“No. While I do adore children, I am not married. It’s hard to find a man willing to marry a midwife”, you explain briefly.

There is no sense in denying the fact that you are of low birth, a self-taught midwife since no man was willing to teach you. And in a world full of gorgeous young girls with skin like porcelain and kimono’s worth more than your housing, you will never catch the attention of a male. But somehow, you’ve found your inner peace with that. After all, helping other woman to finally receive their own little family fills you with enough joy to overlook that you’ll never have a man or a chid by your side yourself.

Confident knocks against the wooden door rip you out of your conversation.

“Are you awaiting someone?” you question.

Within the village you live in, it is told over and over to not leave the house after sunset. And while you don’t consider yourself superstitious, not going out when it’s all dark always seemed plausible enough for you. But now, the sun almost set, the trees around you barely lighten by the weak beam.

“No, but maybe it is someone who needs help.”

You get up from the ground, mindlessly holding onto the cloak in your hands tightly while holding your breath. It might be someone in the need of help. But out here in the woods, who knows…Shivers run down your spine, eyes staring at the door filled with curiosity.

The sight in front of you isn’t one of a robber, an old lady in distress or a demon though. Your orbs widen slightly. No, this is a man. And what a man he is.

The way he carries himself with so much peace and elegance. He looks…majestic. His fuchsia eyes lay upon your host. And even though you don’t understand from afar what they are talking about, you can tell that his firm but calm voice could tame entire oceans. What a remarkable perfect face he has, the only interruption being a scar covering his forehead. So elegantly clothed with a katana attached to his belt? You draw a little closer, take in his sight a little clearer. He looks like one of the men you’ve seen before in your village right after a whole family was brutally killed during night. He was armoured with a katana too. Could it be?

“Are you a demon slayer?”

You want to curse yourself for speaking to him so ruthlessly, for interrupting their conversation so harshly. But you’ve got so lost in his sight that it seems your mouth opened itself.

“Indeed. This is a riskful area. Keep your doors and windows locked during night time and do not leave your wife unattended. Please don’t roam around the house on your own and stay with your husband”, he instructs towards both of you.

Why does he look at you while calling you “wife”? You blink a few times when realization slowly but surely hits you. Oh. Your face reddens instantly, eyes snapping towards your host in pure shock.

“Oh, you misunderstood! She isn’t my wife, but the midwife that will help my wife delivering our firstborn. She’s sleeping at the moment”, he explains calmly while smiling at you.

The stranger’s eyes lock with yours, you can’t help but hold your breath. From all the men you’ve seen come and go in your lifetime, he definitely is the most captivating one. Is it because of his flawless appearance, because he carries himself with so much elegance? Or is it the calmness that radiates from his voice, the power you’re able to sense on him? Maybe nothing, maybe both.

“That is very kind for you. I will stay in this area tonight, but please look after yourself”, the stranger continues, glancing at you one last time before turning around and heading back into the woods.

“Thank you!”

“What an interesting man!”, your host comments towards you, closing and locking the door like he was told you.

“Do you believe in demons?”, you question.

His eyes darts towards you, the positive spark in them gone for the split of a second.

“I’ve witnessed a lot of deaths that happened during the night, terrible massacres with no one surviving. I am firmly convinced that a human being could never to something like that.”

“Humans can be cruel too”, you argue, pictures of all the horrible things you’ve seen within the years you’ve been working as a midwife flooding your mind.

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder who the real monsters in this world are. The demons, the wild animals? Or humans who pretend to be on top of the world, who tear down everything and everyone when they feel like it?

“That is correct. But we are trying our best, right? And that is all that matters for me.”

“It’s getting late, I should look after your wife. Is it alright if I rest with her for today?” you mumble, fingers fumbling with the white cloak to distract your mind from the stranger, from his words, from this whole conversation.

“Of course! I will prepare everything!”

You sign to yourself, gaze glued onto the woman laying in front you sleeping peacefully. Everything will turn good, right?

-at night-

Your eyes shoot open immediately, roaming around the dark room. There they lay, bodies intertwined with each other while being fast asleep. What was that fade away rustle you’ve heard, then? As quietly as possible you lift yourself off the futon Kamado-san prepared for you, naked feet greeted by the cold of the wooden floor underneath. Maybe you just dreamed it. Or is an animal outside? Given the fact that you are located in the middle of a forest, this wouldn’t be a surprise. You furrow your eyebrows, a fade away cracking from outside catching your attention all over again. No, something is off, you can sense it by the way your guts turn.

Instinctively, your hands grab the knife with which Kamado-san prepared your food just a few hours ago. You are by no means an experienced fighter, you have been skilfully avoiding situations like this your entire life. But waking up both of them over nothing would be ridiculous. Just a little glimpse outside the door, just to check on what’s probably a deer. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, palms sweaty in response.

With your free hand, you grasp the handle of the door. Breathe in, breathe out. Tame your pounding heart, get a hold of yourself. With a swift motion, you swing it open.

And get greeted by a pair of venomous red eyes.

There is no time to react any further. Not too late you are able to escape his grasp, naked feet carrying you further inside the forest.

“A demon! There’s a demon outside! Get into safety! A demon!” you scream on top of your lungs.

Please, let Kamado-san hear your desperate cries, let him drag his wife into safety. The disturbing tall and crippled figure of the demon draws closer to the house, closer to the soon to be family.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Sympathy, a protective instinct? Whatever it is forces you backwards, right into the claws of the demon.

“I can’t allow you to harm a single soul in this house”, you hiss through gritted teeth, holding onto the knife in your hands for dear life.

How is it even possible to kill a demon? Do you even stand a chance against it? It doesn’t matter now. You slash forward with a cry of determination, aiming for its carotid artery. The cut doesn’t have to be deep if you hit him with enough precision, your muscle strength should be enough.

But before you are even able to come close to his body, his claw slices open your right arms with ease. Your eyes widen in pure horror, body unable to move even an inch. It moved so fast you weren’t even able to see its hand moving, sliced you open so effortlessly while you’re gasping for air like a fish on land.

Your body falls to the ground, the demon positioning itself on top of you. No, you won’t let it end like this. After all, you still have plenty of work to do, Kamado-san’s wife didn’t deliver her child yet. With full force you push your arms against it, trying to keep your keep your face out of its gaping mouth.

With one push you free your arm, yanking the knife into its eye. Now or never. While its loud groans fill the air with fright, you get off the ground, run deeper into the forest, desperately try to stay alive. You can’t die like this. Not you, not Kamado-san, not his wife, not their unborn baby.

But the demon is right on your tracks, hunting you down the dark forest without any mercy.

“Ouch.”

 A moment of inattention is enough for you to stumble over a thick branch, knees meeting the floor harshly. Is this your end? All you can do is stare up, glossy eyes widen in the dim moonlight with a tiny trail of its blood on your face. Hopefully the demon slayer from last evening will return soon enough to at least safe Kamado-san and his family. If not you, at least they need to survive.

There you kneel, face gone emotionless, orbs directed towards the frightening creature that lunges towards you. One hit. One hit of its claws will be enough to behead you. One second and your life will be nothing more than a fade away whisper in the darkness, ended way too soon just like so many others. You never thought it would be you, that of all the people you’d get killed by a demon slayer. After all, you were always so skilled in avoiding trouble, never allowing yourself to get into danger.

But oh, now you are. And it will cost you your young life.

Yoriichi can’t catch his breath, feet carrying him so rapidly to the scene laying itself out in front of him that the trees around him merge. He told you to stay inside, to keep windows and doors shut. Why are you outside? Where are the man and his wife? Please, let it not be too late, let him be able so safe those people.

Finally. With a determined slash of his blade, the demon in from of him gets beheaded, its ashes raining down onto the ground. You look…uninjured. Frightened, in pure shock, but uninjured. And unbelievably lovely with the dim moonlight highlighting the delicate features of your face.

“Are you alright?” he questions softly, slowly approaching you and stretching out his hand.

Carefully he lifts your trembling limbs off the ground, your hand holding onto his for what seems like dear life while your sharp and heavy breaths hang in the cool air.

“Yes”, you finally breathe out.

“Are the other two alright? Did someone get hurt?”

“There are inside. It was only this one. I lured him away”, you huff.

 Yoriichi swore himself to never get close to another human being again, to fulfil his duty in silence. But you…Did you really risk your life for a family you didn’t even know until yesterday? Did you run into the woods so selflessly to distract the demon? What a brave woman you are, truly remarkable.

“I was hoping for you to return”, you add.

His warm hand feels almost therapeutic against yours, calming down your tingling nerves and beating heart. You survived. Is this really possible? While kneeling down and staring right into the face of that frightful demon, you already accepted your fate. But that he’ll show up like a knight in shining armour, saving you just before getting beheaded…It seems like a miracle to you.

“I came here as fast as I could. This area was full of these creatures”, he explains briefly, fuchsia eyes resting on you.

“(y/n)!”

A thick stone falls from your heart. It’s him.

“Kamado-san, is your wife alright? Are you alright?” you blabber, the man sprinting towards you as if his life depends on it.

“You saved us. Even though you don’t even know me and my wife, you risked your own life to save ours. And you…You really came. I’m beyond thankful.”

He falls to his knees, leaving you completely speechless.

“She really was outstanding brave. Normally the sight of a demon alone is enough for most humans to lose their minds. You are exceptional, (y/n).”

It sounds so strange, hearing your name out of this charismatic stranger’s mouth. But the way his eyes lock with yours sends shivers down your spine, makes your heart pound against your ribcage all over again.

“What is your name?”

“Yoriichi Tsugikuni.”

Yoriichi. What an exceptional name that matches his majestic appearance perfectly. It seems so easy to get lost in his eyes, to study every inch of his face. And his smell…

“I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation, but I think my wife will deliver her child soon.”

Your eyes dart towards Kamado-san immediately.

“Why are you saying so?”

“Since she woke up from your screams, she seems to have contractions.”

You don’t think twice. As fast as your feet are able to carry you, you sprint back into the house, back to the reason why you originally came here.

-the next morning-

“Sleep well. You deserve it”, you whisper into the woman’s ear gently, wrapping her up inside a blanket before leaving the room discretely.

The birth went smooth and faster than you expected for a first born. Not long after you arrived by her side, she delivered the baby with tears of joy running down her face, her husband telling her over and over how much he loves her. It was bittersweet, seeing in front of your very own eyes what you’ll never have. Just after encountering him, just after those strange feeling that he triggered in you.

“I’m glad to see you are alright.”

You stop in your tracks, staring at the back of him in disbelief. There he sits, facing the sun while his broad shoulders catch your attention all over again.

“I’ll make some tea”, Kamado-san discretely announces before hushing into the house.

“I am in no way responsible for the miracle that happened tonight. That was you and Kamado-san’s wife”, you explain briefly, sitting down next to him.

The sun caresses your skin gently. You never thought its hot beams would calm your nerves before the incident of this night. You smile at the little bundle of joy Yoriichi is holding in his arms. Oh, how well it suits him. Someone like him must be a good father.

“I’ll be leaving after I had a cup of tea. It wouldn’t be right to keep eating for free here”, he announces all of the sudden.

“Don’t say that.”

Out of instinct, you place on hand on his firm shoulder and wrap the other around his strong biceps.

“You saved our lives tonight. It if hadn’t be for you, not only would we be dead, but this child you’re holding in your arms wouldn’t be born, either.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Your eyes freeze, unable to tear away from his beautiful sight. Why does he make you feel this way? What is it that makes this stranger so special? Is it his sword skill, his ability to fight? No. In fact, you couldn’t care less about that. It’s the way he carries himself, the elegance within every step he takes. It’s the fact that he sacrifices himself for others.

Just like you do.

“Like what?” you hush.

“As if I am some kind of special person. I don’t deserve the affection you hold in your gaze.”

“You deserve every spark of affection for your being”, you argue.

“You’re wrong about that. I failed to protect anything that was important to me. And throughout my life, I was unable to do what I was supposed to do. I am worthless.”

“How could you even say something like that? How could you talk about yourself so negatively after saving four lives this night?”

“Because of the countless lives I failed to protect.”

“So what? Does it make be a bad midwife that I wasn’t able to save every single child? The losses are tragic and never forgotten, but as long as we are doing our very best, there is nothing to regret. Tonight, you were able to save a young family. You should be proud of yourself instead of talking you down.”

He stands up, handing you the new-born carefully before grabbing his sword.

“Are you about to leave?” Kamado-san questions from afar, storming outside with tea in his hands.

You thoughtlessly hand him is son, eyes directed towards the charismatic man in front of you.

“I have to leave now. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Wait!” you shout all of the sudden.

You don’t know what has gotten into you, but there you are, running after him and grabbing his hand just like you did this fateful night.

“Will I ever see you again?”

For a moment, time seems to stand still. He can’t believe his ears, usual tame heart almost beating out of his chest. When was the last time a woman ran after him, the last time a female even looked his way? He can’t remember. But especially you…Why would a woman like you be interested in a broken man like him? What do you see in him?

“Why would you want that?”

“I can’t tell. I just know I have to see you again”, you reply automatically.

The air between both of you seems thick enough to get cut by his knife, your eyes almost piercing through the back of his head. Please, just say something. Just move, turn around, smile. Just do anything besides standing still. Never in your life did you even think about the possibility to get to know a man better. Why him? Why a man you didn’t even know before last evening? Why someone who seems so unapproachable?

“You will see me again.”

And with that, he’s gone in the wind, leaving you with your feelings all over the place.

-a few months later-

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come”, you comment, resting your head against the cool grass.

The weather changed. As soon as the evening arrives, it’s getting way too cold outside to stay for long. But when he’s here, none of that seems to matter.

“You know I always do. How was your day?”

He lays down next to you, closing his eyes for a brief moment while you position your head on his shoulder. Oh, how much you loved these innocent little meetings. After you returned to your little village, Yoriichi found you wherever you went. Always keeping an eye open for you, staying longer from meeting to meeting. Until you randomly laid down in the grass the whole evening, talking about your life and eventually, got even closer. Innocent touching, him drawing circles on your back while you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“The baby I delivered today, they were actually twins. Two healthy girls, the father almost fell unconscious when he found out.”

Your cute little giggle lights up the air around him and fills his heart with joy he hasn’t felt in a long time. Being happy seems so easy since he got to know you.

No. It’s far more than simply knowing you. The feelings he holds for you go far deeper than that.

“I love you, (y/n).”

Your heart skips a beat, gaze darting towards him the second those magical words leave his lips. Did you dream that? Are you really resting in the meadow with Yoriichi telling you none other but that he loves you?

How much you longed for this sweet moment, how often you thought about saying those words too. Without hesitation, you press your lips against his.

While the world around you seems to fall apart, at least this is fine. Yes, laying here in Yoriichi’s arms while tenderly kissing him like you’ve always imagined makes everything around you whole again.

“I love you too”, you whisper against his lips.

Who would have thought going to work and almost getting killed by a demon would turn out this nice?

[tragedybunny]

Bedroom Hymns - Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW - Breeding / Sex Pollen

This is technically the second part of my wedding fic Dance With Me Under the Diamonds, See Me Like Breath in the Cold. I separated it out as it is just porn with a small tie-in to the plot. There will be another part that continues the story that doesn't require reading this. Reader is based on an Archfey Warlock. Tried some new things here and I'm not sure if they worked but oh well.

Reader and Astarion are happily married and celebrate their wedding night. But there may be more occurring than they realize.

Your hand fumbles for the handle of the door behind you, a difficult task with Astarion kissing and nipping your exposed skin. The door finally relents and swings open, to your endless relief. Maybe it was all the wine, but you feel as though there’s a fire stoking inside you, your skin radiating heat, to go along with the growing aching need between your legs for your now husband. You answer the door’s creak with a whimper. “Aren’t you in quite the state, my Love?” Astarion teases you, whispering against your ear. 

There’s a blank in your mind where a witty retort should be, answering instead with another hungry kiss, and gasping when your legs are swept out from under you. Astarion carries you over the threshold of your home, turning to kick the door shut. It slams loud enough for you to be grateful Scratch is with Shadowheart tonight. That’s the last thought you have to spare for anything that’s not him though. 

There’s no questions asked as Astarion starts for the stairs of your house, just your breathing, heavy with anticipation. The world around you has a haze to it, like it’s shimmering with summer heat. The need has turned to a feeling of emptiness that is almost painful. Arms looped around his neck to hold yourself steady, you whine in frustration you haven’t reached your bedroom yet. “Gods I need you.” 

His grip on you tightens and he growls in your ear, something wild in his voice you’ve never heard before, but it makes you want to spread your legs and beg for him. “Soon my Sweet.” 

Just beyond the last stair is the cozy bedroom the two of you share when you’re not adventuring beyond the walls of Baldur’s Gate. Safe and secure, the shutters block any sunlight when locked down, protecting your beloved while he sleeps next to you. It seems you’ll be needing it before either of you get any sleep tonight. Astarion sets your feet on the ground just before the bed and you open your mouth to protest, but he hushes you by grabbing your waist firmly. “Patience, Love, let's get this dress off.” Skilled fingers set to work unlacing you out of the dress that seems more like a prison, you lean into that touch, craving him. A cool finger bushes along your skin and the inferno inside you rises, hips rock back, the curve of your ass pushing against him, feeling how he’s already half hard. An arm wraps around your waist, locking you in place. “Behave or I’ll cut it off you, your choice Darling,” his voice is low as he speaks the words against your ear and you shiver. Somewhere in the back of your mind you recall it was an expensive dress and you were fond of it. You focus on holding yourself still. “Good girl,” he coos at you and you can feel your small clothes becoming damp with your arousal. 

By some miracle of some god somewhere, he manages to free you before you turn into a writhing mess. Frantically, the two of you work to rid you of your undergarments before turning to Astarion’s clothes, the sound of tearing fabric letting you know they don't survive his attentions. “Help me,” you all but beg, leaving searing kisses along his skin as you undo buttons and trouser laces. He obliges, aiding in removing the offending garments until he’s bare before you. The fire and wanting fade just enough for you to drink him in for a moment, and you feel a giddy smile come on that you can’t repress. So perfect, he’s yours and yours alone. “You’re so beautiful, my Love,” you breathe out, almost reverently, and pull him in for another kiss. 

Again he lifts you in his arms, finally settling you onto the bed and kneeling between your open thighs. One finger drags languidly along your slit. “Look at you all soaked and swollen already, needy little thing.” 

“P-please Astarion,” you thrust unthinkingly toward his hand, your own reaching out to stroke him, thumb swiping through the liquid beaded at his tip. A throaty moan is your reward. 

“Oh my Love, just you wait.” He sits back, content to let you touch him. Aching and still desperate for relief, you continue, wanting nothing more than to please him. Soft groans escape him as he rocks his hips into touch before finally taking mercy on you. 

Pushing your hands away, he grips your hips and you obey his wordless command, turning so that you're kneeling before him, elbows propping you up. “My gorgeous wife.” Lips trace their way from the base of your spine up to your shoulders, hands cup your breasts, kneading them, thumbs brushing over peaked nipples. With a whimper, you grind yourself against him, the barest teasing touch of his cock driving you mad. “You want to be fucked so badly, don’t you. But you want more than that, you want to be filled, to be bred, like a good little wife.” He’s so close to you, words speaking of desires unknown until this moment, but it’s there in you, the yearning for what he promises. Desperately, you writhe against him and he pushes your hips away. “Say it.” One hand grips your chin, thumb worrying your bottom lip. 

“I want to be filled with you,” his thumb slips between your lips and you suck at it gratefully, “bred by you.” 

The press of him into you grants blissful relief to the emptiness, and you both still for a moment, bound as one. And then he moves, slow and deliberate, burying himself again and again. There are no words from you, just sounds of need, of pleading for more. “My Love, taking me so good.”  His hand dips between your legs, finding your clit and tracing small circles over it as the rhythm of hips increases. A few more moments of those heady sensations and, with a keening sound, you clench around him, desperate for him to fulfill the promise of earlier. 

He’s there right after you, one hand digging into your hip, pulling you tight against him, the other still playing with you. The feel of his seed pumping into you is almost enough to send you over the edge again. Gasping, ragged breaths are the only sound as you obediently remain how he positioned you, taking all of him, crying out when he pulls out of you. 

The empty ache returns, but not for long. “Hmm,” fingers press inside you, spreading you. 

“Love,” you plead, the need burning again at his touch. 

“I don’t think I’m done with you yet, my desperate, sweet little thing.” His touch slips back around to your clit and you hiss at how sensitive it's become. The discomfort fades soon enough and you're lost in the euphoria of it. 

His body covers yours, and teeth lightly nip into your shoulder and lap at the little drips of blood that escape. “Astarion.” You lose yourself again.

The world blurs around you, the only constants, his touch and your own ragged breath. There are no thoughts, only the drive to be taken again, like a wild creature in heat. Pliantly, you let him guide you to your back, where you stare up at him, enraptured. “Gods you’re incredible,” you whisper, “my husband.” 

Leaning over you, he kisses your forehead gently. “Incredibly lucky.” Fingers brush your hair back and trace your cheeks, your lips, along your chin. “You’re the most amazing person in the whole world. And somehow you’re mine.” He ponders you for a moment, staring at you like you’re some holy thing, as though he’s engaged in an act of worship. Then his lips catch yours and you feel the length of his cock slide along you. Despite what you want, it’s painful as it presses against the exhausted bundle of nerves between your legs, leaving you whining. “One more for me, you can do that, can’t you?” His voice, sultry against your ear, is all the encouragement you need, and you nod. “Good girl.” 

Legs wrap around his waist as enters you one more time. “I…ohhhh…hells,” divine torment, pain flowing into pleasure, desperation driving away exhaustion. 

“Shhh, Darling, you’re doing so good,” he moves inside you, guiding you back to your precipice. Lips and teeth are everywhere all over you, fingers back to playing with you, you mewl and cry his name over and over until nothing makes sense. Your eyes are closed, all you know is the feeling of him, waves of rapture crash into one another and become one, and you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. 

Finally, with a jerk he stills and you feel at last gloriously sated, filled as promised. Collapsing next to you, he pulls you onto his chest and nuzzles your hair. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” your eyes flutter close, your body finally succumbing to exhaustion, the strange need fading away. And then you remember, the woman at the park, the bottle, a gift from summer. Fuck, who knows what your patron gifted you with, you should really tell Astarion when you wake up. 

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity

 @mxxny-lupin  @azu21things @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87

@fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

[tech-luver]

Part 1 here

Ranking (some more of) the LL crew based on who would let you take a nap on them and how comfy that nap would be (Part 2):

Perceptor: 7/10 Good shoulders to sleep on and works in (and prefers) quiet environments like his lab and the main navigation area of the ship. Prepare for loud interruptions if Brainstorm feels like continuing his one-sided competition with the bot. Although, if Perceptor doesn't feel like entertaining him, he may use you as an excuse to shoo him away. Tolerates your presence and checks on you every now and then but nothing more. Would ramble to you about maths and science if you ask, which is great white noise for falling asleep, unless you're actually interested.

Chromedome: 6/10 Hm, ok, a little skinny but you could try his big ass shoulders? It would leave you pretty exposed… maybe we just go with the cradled like a baby option here. Allows it but you better not be giving Rewind any ideas, his arms are going to get so tired otherwise. Will speak in a hushed way but won't stop other people from speaking regularly, only if they get too loud. May tap or stroke along your spine absentmindedly. He found that keeping his servos active helps when he feels that pull to perform mneumosurgery, that repetitive motion is now just something he does whenever.

Rewind: 7/10 Actually not too bad, you have a chance with his shoulders unlike the other minibots but he would probably prefer holding you so there isn't a possibility of you sliding off. Moves around the ship a lot but prefers quieter spaces. Would ask if he can record you sleeping for "the preservation of historic cultural exchange between cybertronians and humans!" It is a genuine reason of his, but he doesn't mention the fact it's also cuz he thinks you're very cute dozing on him. It's a funny/sweet thought that there may be a recording of you sleeping on a minibot that exists thousands if not millions of years after you are gone.

Nautica: 4/10 I know she's sleek but I think it's doable to rest on her shoulders, might want to keep away from those propeller wings of hers but they don't seem to move much. Not excited about it, she cares about your well-being but it would feel like she's just babysitting you which isn't fun. Also, she wants to be up and at 'em with her science gang! But if the gang is chilling then, hey, she'll allow it, why not? Once they're off again she'll gently hand you over to another willing bot with a quick, whispered "Sorry!"

Velocity: 9/10 Again, sleek but doable, especially cuz she approaches your health with such a lovely intensity. If she can help the only human on-board feel a little more welcome whilst also benefitting their health, that's a double win in her book. Tell her if you need any sleep aids, she'd love to learn about how humans sleep and how to specifically aid you! Probably feels the most guilty out of all the medics about their lack of understanding on organic medicine so you asking to nap kinda helps her with that. Will try to be quiet but she is a doctor and won't ignore other patients.

Ravage: 0/10 lol no, he has disappeared before you can even ask. First of all, there's nowhere to sleep, laying on his back isn't an option cuz he won't sacrifice his movement for some human and you can't be held by him (no, not even in his jaw, getting dragged around like a sack of potatoes is not relaxing). Second of all, there's some prejudice against organics he needs to work on and even after all that, he isn't a cuddly kitty. So go on, keep pestering him, if you're persistent enough you might earn some cool new scars!

First Aid: 7/10 He'll let it happen, not too fussed. Definitely watches you as you sleep but it's for research, he swears! Very interested in how the human sleep cycle is different and/or similar to cybertronian recharge so don't be surprised if you wake up and the glow of his giant visor is the first thing you see. He is another medic, which means another fairly loud environment of bots being put back together. First Aid is quiet by himself but any noise caused by patients or fellow doctors he's going to assume you're fine with, why would you sleep on a medic if you weren't?

Riptide: 5/10 I spent a little too long staring at this guys shoulder plating and its still a maybe on if you could stay in one place. His back fin things would be great to sit against! However, if you can only nap laying down then there would be some difficulty. He would let you up without an issue, just helping a little guy have a little recharge, but he would 100% forget you are up there. Prepare to go flying. Or maybe just tie yourself to one of his plates. Other people would have to point out that you're on his shoulder when he gets that feeling of "Wait, I'm meant to be doing something for the human…"

Skids: 8/10 Chill about it, happy to be a napping perch even if he is quite an active bot. Really curious on how humans recharge but also mindful of the fact you just want some rest so you might catch him staring and hurriedly looking away a few times. If you nap on him enough, he knows exactly when you fall asleep and when you wake up, it would be kind of freaky if he wasn't so accommodating and quick to put a blanket over you or hand you some water. Tried to crawl in the vents with you napping once, went well for a while until you almost slipped off and cracked your head open, he never tells you this happened.

Ambulon: 4/10 He really hems and haws over this when you ask, he's uncomfortable with the idea but he knows Autobots are meant to love organics or whatever, especially humans. Eventually allows it but he picks you up with the tips of his fingers (trying to ignore the weird sensation) and angles his head as far away from you as is socially acceptable. Keeps an eye on you but its less out of concern for your well-being and more so he can see if you start picking at his paint or chewing his neck cables. He treats you like a feral creature but eventually loosens up when you don't do anything but…lay there sleeping.

Ok, I see why I picked the bots I did for the first part cuz after them, people start to have very complicated shoulders. (Also, I only finished reading mtmte like two months ago but I feel I'm already writing these guys out of character wth)