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helaenology · 1 day ago

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i. not a lot, just forever

poly wolfstar/fem!reader

it doesn’t take much to keep yourself safe, yet it is still a challenging task for most. surrounding yourself with those who maintain warmth seems to do the trick, luckily you have remus and sirius, and they have you. (3,496 words)

caution. injuries following lycan transformations, remus uses a walking cane, mentions of sirius’ family, gore/blood(?), bullying, reader has a bird animagi form.

i’m new to the marauders fandom and have limited knowledge, sorry for any character inaccuracies.

sewn together.

ONE of the window latches in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory was broken. Fortunately, it’s the window right by Remus’s bed. A playful mishap between the group of them caused a book to go flying at it, shattering one of the glass panels. The window was repaired with a spell Peter had cast, but he was never able to mend the bolt. That's what makes it easy to sneak in when it’s past curfew.

Remus lies atop the covers tonight; he only managed to shuffle the pants of his nightwear on. The plaid shirt was thrown haphazardly on the crest of his bed frame. Faint lines of gauze wrapped around his torso are visible beneath his chalk-white polo shirt. They’re stained with a muffled red; he must’ve bled quite heavily.

The matron healer did an exquisite job as per usual. Neat fastenings of bandages; his wounds were clean. Though you would’ve preferred if Madam Pomfrey tried a little bit harder to convince Remus to stay the night in the hospital wing.

This month's full moon was one of the hardest for some reason; you have an inkling that your presence was a contributing factor. Remus usually insists that you should stay far away from him when he changes, and he didn't even intend on revealing his lycanthropy, but Sirius persuaded him to change his mind.

As soon as the truth came to light about his furry friend, you immediately urged him to let you help—in any way possible. The two of them were very strict regarding the routine, and in turn, you were very understanding. Sirius had been extremely reliant on your aerodynamic abilities, as your Animagus form held avian qualities.

Remus was still on the fence about it, but with a few honeyed words and gentle (manipulative more so) kisses from you and Sirius, he was convinced. The transformation process created significant agitation, which only increased in intensity over the course of the week.

He was clearly more possessive than usual, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't entertaining. Neither you nor Sirius complained about Remus's insatiable want for affection; the two of you were never to be out of his sight. It was especially difficult during the day due to your separate schedules; after supper, you were confined to his dorm room.

It was abnormal for the quiet boy you’ve grown to love to act in such a way. More often than not, it was more common for Sirius to act like this, treating public displays of affection like he would a new toy he got for Christmas. That’s what was most likeable about him; he was irrevocably himself. Remus was the opposite; they both stabilised one another nicely.

Often it was like you were intruding, that you didn’t fit in as well as they did. A whiff of these thoughts, and they were quick to dismiss any negative feelings, and that was greatly appreciated. A balanced scale needs its anchor after all.

Much to your delight, James and Peter did not make themselves at home in the boys dorm—they must’ve both been warming someone’s bed tonight.

You have a vague idea of where James might be, but Peter leaves you in mystery. For all you know, he could be sneaking around with a Slytherin or two; that sounds like something he’d do anyway.

Sirius is curled up in his own bed opposite Remus’. He watches with a soft look as you sit yourself down beside the injured boy. Much to your dismay, he had stayed in such a position as you attempted to crawl through the open window, chuckling quietly to himself at your struggles.

Remus shivers as your hand brushes his mousy-brown curls before settling against it. How soft he looks when he’s like this.

“He’s been asking for you in his sleep.” Sirius whispers, toying with the chequered quilt he lays beneath. You give Remus a once-over before looking back at the other boy. Sirius smiles lightly when that happens and pulls back the blanket so it sits just above his ribs.

An invitation; he wants you to join him in his bed. And you desperately want to, but Remus needs you. Amidst his sleep, he blindly searches for your hand, and you comply by locking your fingers with his.

The small tick in his brow soothes over, and he hums contentedly when you brush your forefinger against his palm.

“He’s been saying your name.”

Your free hand finds purpose in Remus’ hair once more. “Cute, does he say yours?”

“No. I think it’s because he knows I’m here already. Perhaps I’ll ask him when he wakes up.” He taunts. Locking eyes again, you give him a humoured glare in disappointment. Of course he’d tease Remus about mindless sleep talks.

One time, in a fit of anger, you had cast a spell in the general direction of Severus Snape (he had spoken ill of a fellow house member; what else were you supposed to do?). The dunce had managed to move out of the way just in time, causing the spell to hit Professor Flitwick.

With a fresh pair of stag antlers perched on his head, the professor took away fifteen points from Gryffindor. It was a brief reprimand; still, Sirius has yet to let you live it down. He still makes jokes about it with James to this day.

“I beg to differ.” Remus interrupts; he must’ve been awoken by the playful conversation. “I just don’t really like you.” He jokes, grazing his nimble fingers along the surface of your linked hands.

Sirius scoffs before tugging at his blanket, pulling it up over his head so he can hide beneath it. “That is a lie; you love me, Moons.” His voice is muffled from underneath the quilt.

Chuckling quietly, you continue to brush through Remus’ hair. He had always been appreciative of such services; often you could be found with your hands perched in his curls.

Sirius instead preferred when you played with his hands. Fiddling with the brass and silver rings that decorate his lithe fingers always makes his heart grow fonder.

You were prone to favouring back scratches, but you’d never tell them that.

You lean downwards and press a small kiss to his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better now. The madam gave me a Calming Draught and then I fell asleep.” He said slowly, observing you with a loving look that would make anyone’s heartbeat stutter. “What about you? Didn’t frighten you too much, did I?” You shake your head; he could never scare you.

From the corner of your eye, you see Sirius rolling around in his bedsheets. With an exaggerated huff, he throws the covers off and flicks at his hair with one hand. He must be bothered by the lack of attention from the both of you.

He turns his head and squints at you with faux anger, and you have half the mind to laugh in his face. Not a good idea, though; it would probably make him more annoying.

Then he leaps from the confines of his bed with such haste it makes Remus flinch. He rolls from his bed and lands on the rugged ground. He continues to roll over until he reaches the foot of Remus’ bed. Now the whole room is lightened with soft laughter. Remus decides to stick out his free hand to dangle it over the edge of the bed.

Like a dog with a bone, Sirius grabs a hold of it and entwines his fingers with Remus’.

Every full moon will be hard; Remus knows that much. The process will never get easier to recover from; it will always eat at him. But so long as he has the two of you with him, he might be okay.

bears the weather

Winter break was never easy for Sirius Black. Normally, he’d choose to stay on school grounds for the holidays. You’d often stay too, out of solidarity, and Remus would always bring treats back from his family home in Wales.

This year, though, Sirius had been owled a letter from his mother, instructing him to come home over the break.

He didn’t want to, that much you could tell. Sirius did not cry when he said that he would not be at Hogwarts for this year's Christmas holiday, but his eyes did gloss over, and his voice was terribly shaky.

He became dismissive throughout the last week of classes; you were not able to comfort him in the way you had hoped to—for how are you to comfort a boy unloved?

He didn’t contribute to many conversations on the train ride back to King’s Cross Station; Remus had told you not to worry, but even he looked dejected.

Sirius had briefly embraced you and Remus and claimed that he would write to the both of you. With a forlorn gaze, you watched as he and his younger brother made their way from the platform.

A total of three letters, marked with the wax sigil of House Black, were delivered to your doorstep. How fitting that the owl that did so was ebony in feathers, a clear indicator of its keeper. The beast had tried biting at your fingers when it let go of the envelope.

On the contrary, fourteen letters with Remus’ name smudged on the top were sent to your house by post.

There were a couple of days during the winter break when you met up with Remus and some of your mutual friends. You had a joyous time ice-skating and drinking hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. An invite was sent to Sirius on both of your parts, but much to your grief, he did not show. It was lovely seeing and spending time with Remus, but it was clear that the both of you felt as if something was missing.

Before you knew it, school was back, so were the uniforms and casted spells. The spring term always went by quickly, though the tension between the three of you was stifling. Sirius had been cold for the first week back; it was like the winter weather had made its home in his form.

Though he gradually warmed up, there was something unusual about it. A strain in his shoulders or a furrow in his brow that had yet to settle, even when he slept. It ate at your heart that you couldn’t seem to figure out how to help him. Others were starting to notice too.

“Hey, is Pads doing alright?”

Lily Evans, ever the gentle soul. It comes as no surprise that she was worried. You pause at her question, inked quill hovering over the smudged parchment.

“He’s fine. I suppose.”

“Have you spoken to him much? I’ve only ever seen him at dinner time or in class.”

You shake your head quietly and keep your gaze fixed on the paper. She is right after all. Sirius spends most of his time holed up in the dorm room, and no, you haven’t really had the chance to speak with him. Most of the time he’d be right with you now. In the library, studying for exams—or more so distracting you from studying.

He isn’t, though; today it's just you and Lily sitting at a lone table in an alcove, hidden behind the many towering shelves of books.

Although you can’t see it from where your gaze is fixed, the inquiring gaze of Lily Evans is harsh against your neck.

“It’s just—” you start, strangling the feather quill with vigour. “I don’t know what to say. He’s struggling, that's clear, but I don’t know how to help him.” Such a stuttered confession makes you feel sick to your stomach. It’s something to do with Lily’s ambience that makes you go soft. She smiles delicately at your apparent demise.

“Maybe you don’t need to say anything? Just let him know, in any way you can, that you're there. For him.”

“You’d serve as a mighty fine therapist if this witch thing doesn’t work out for you, Lilyflower.” You mutter with a half-hearted smile. The russet-haired girl only hums with a small grin and turns back to her own parchment. “You’re lucky I’m not charging you for my wise words of wisdom.”

You ponder Lily’s words on the lone journey back to the Gryffindor common room.

Sirius Black was not a fragile individual, a quality that is quick to be learned. He was undeniably a brave soul; he didn’t let much get to him. The topic of his family, the noble and most ancient house of Black, was an arduous one; he could hardly speak their names without choking up. You and Remus knew this well and made sure not to bring them or even your own families up in conversation.

It was a good few years ago that you had first been acquainted with Walburga Black. It was a short introduction when you were in your youthful age, therefore, you don’t remember much. Regardless, even in your earliest of life, did you realise that she wasn’t the kindest of people. Her eyes had frightened you the most, beady and almost pitch-black. They scanned over you like a predatory animal would when it spots its prey.

That moment was all it took to notice the animosity she held for most. Sirius’ eyes were similar in colour, but they were so much more gentle.

When Remus told you that he had never met Sirius' family before, you promised yourself that if you could, you would protect him from them and any other pure-blood zealot.

Your eyes lock with James Potter’s as soon as you walk in through the portrait door. Somehow he is all-knowing and nods his head in the direction of the stairs leading up to the boys dorm rooms. Nodding back to him in gratitude, you make your way up the creaky steps posthaste.

Remus is sitting upright on his twin-sized bed, watching over a curled-up Sirius. He glances up at you with melancholic eyes and gives you a small smile.

You approach Sirius' bed quietly and take in the pile of blankets and pillows there. He observes as you sit down next to Remus, having only his face visible from underneath. To your delight, Sirius appears to be more content than he has been in a long time. His head rests on one of the cushions, his dark curls strewn about. You gently hush him when he stirs under the warmth of the covers.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, leaning your head on Remus’ shoulder. “I’m here.”

Yes, Sirius thinks. You’re here.

sheds her feather

Muggles would never know the true rapture of flying. Sure, they could board a plane and take to the skies—but it would never feel the same as spreading your wings in the breeze.

Each sliver of wind could be felt in your feathers, urging you to go faster, higher, forever. Though you’d never say it aloud, you’ve thought on many occasions to just spend the rest of your life in the sky.

You’ve always been a curious child. At least that's what Mother had believed, especially since you had snatched a coin purse from someone as a child and given it to her when you heard her gripe about money on the phone. She had been horrified and gave you a slap on the wrist in return.

Her reaction did not ail you; often your closest companions are gifted something shiny in appearance.

Sirius was ecstatic when he was gifted an argentate ring engraved with a wolf signet, and Remus embraced you warmly with a soft kiss when you handed him a sterling silver novella bookmark—it had a small etching of a dove bird on it; you thought he’d appreciate it most.

In a hasty manoeuvre, you land on a railing of the Astronomy Tower. With a ruffle of midnight-black feathers, it returns you to your natural form.

The transformations have gotten much better than what they were originally. The first time you ever attempted it, you crashed into a tree and broke your wrist. That hadn’t been an easy one to explain to Madam Pomfrey.

A shot of pain saddles up your leg, causing you to gasp loudly in shock and crumble to the floor.

It was foolish to assume the flimsy bandaging you had done was adequate enough to halt the bleeding.

The linen wrapped around your leg was stained with a bright crimson, nothing too bad to worry the nurses about it though.

The most recent Quidditch game was won by Gryffindor; the losing team, Slytherin, was obviously not pleased with the results. A group of students had managed to corner you right after classes had finished for the day, and they must've been searching around for something to burn their energy off on. Unfortunately, that just happened to be you.

The Diffindo charm was not often used out of malice, but that didn’t seem to stop this particular Slytherin boy. The slash was embedded deep enough into the skin of your leg, causing a significant amount of blood. The cruel group of seventh-years draped in green ran off before you could react properly.

As luck would have it, you managed to sneak into the hospital wing undetected and quietly bandage yourself up. A clatter of objects from behind a curtain had spooked you enough into transforming and flying out an open window.

The pain in your leg had majorly subsided whilst in Animagi form; perhaps the wind has healing properties.

But now as you were crouched over in the tower, it’s clear that is not the truth of it.

A clamour of footsteps sounds out in the winding tower, and you attempt to transform again. To no avail, as the pain is too much to bear, so instead you brush back your uniform skirt as it had ridden up.

Sirius makes himself present with a whistle; Remus shakes his head as he trails after him. The wooden cane that he’s taken recent use to creaking under his form.

“We saw you flying overhead when we were walking back from Herbology.” Sirius confirms with a grunt as he sits down cross-legged. It was common for you to take off from the tower as it was the highest point in Hogwarts and generated the most adrenaline.

“Thought we could beat you here, but no, you’re just too fast!” He praises.

Remus manages to sit down as well, without any help. You nod in compliment, trying to mask the pain in your leg. Sirius doesn’t notice the way your face screws up as he drones on about class, but like always, Remus does—probably some weird werewolf gene.

“You alright, love?” He intervenes, Sirius stops talking for a moment. A hum leaves your throat; a bit too enthusiastically. Words are not reliable right now.

Remus is clearly unconvinced, and Sirius casts a suspicious look your way. With a sigh of defeat, your hands grip the edge of the skirt and lift it slightly, just to show the dribbles of dried blood on your leg. Sirius’ breath hitches in his throat, and Remus looks at the scene with growing exasperation.

“What—Who did this to you?” Demanded Sirius as he moved to pull higher at your skirt. “No one, nothing, I mean. I just—” You start, but Sirius continues on.

“Don’t lie to me; you’re not this clumsy.” A laugh escapes you, but even that brings a twinge of pain. Remus shuffles through his leather satchel that holds his study books.

He’s had to get a lot more creative regarding how he routines his life, now that he has to walk with an aid. Sirius was more than kind enough to gift him the costly satchel, much to Remus’ humbleness.

He pulls out a roll of gauze, and you can’t help but grace him with a lukewarm smile. Always the caretaker he is, Remus Lupin.

Sirius grabs the roll at breakneck speed and huffs drearily as he unravels your previous work. “You need to go to Poppy; I can’t do very well with this.”

Shaking your head in quiet disagreement, you watched as he wrapped fresh gauze around your leg.

Remus leans over and brushes one of his forefingers against your cheek. With a soft pout, you cast a shy gaze at him from beneath your eyelashes. His eyes are always so soft when he looks at you.

Sirius always teases him for it but gets equally as giddy whenever Remus gives the same look to him. He acts indifferent to it all the time, but there is no denying that his eyes are any less mellow.

He finishes by tying the fabric into a knot at the innermost point of the thigh, warmth rising to your face at the closeness.

“Going to let us help you now?” Remus asks. It’s a rhetorical question but you still search for an answer. Regardless, you nod your head at the question.

They can help you, always.

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shotgunbunny · 2 years ago

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═ஓ๑♡𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜♡๑ஓ═

WC:4.7k+ GIF by cavill-henry

{dark!clark kent X camgirl!reader}

{warnings!!! Age gap not specified but there is one!! Masturbation!! Exhibition?! Smut!! DUBCON/NONCON!! Dirty talk!! Breeding kink!! Stalking!! Mentions of murder!! Seems like a sweetheart but he isn't Clark!! Lois bashing!! Threats!!! Stockholm Syndrome!!!}

Clark was absolutely baffled by you. You were a puzzle that he couldn't figure out and he was absolutely obsessed with the game. You challenged him without knowing. You challenged his control, his nobility, his very will of remaining good. But he was a simple bat of eyelashes away from snapping and ruining his reputation.

You worked with him in the office. While he worked on the small sports articles you worked beside him on small fashion articles. You put your heart into every little report on the newest line of shoes coming out, and every fashion tip that was current floating around. Clark often would allow himself to stare at you typing, your bottom lip wedged between your teeth until you realised the cliché you were doing. You would blink and giggle quietly and then head back to typing after your small mental break.

Clark took in the sparkle of your eyes everytime, how they lit up over your cliché and how romance books had bled it's terribly cute habits into your actions. He was hypnotized with every giggled behind your small hands, every strand of hair that you swept out of your face. He was just entranced in you, he had been the day he first met you.

He remembers so clearly how Lois teased him and how he rolled his eyes at her. He did enjoy her company but she could not hold a firey candle to your sun light beaming on him. Clark almost considered her his muse at one point, but then he stumbled upon you and he was ignited with a vigor for humanity like never before. Lois was bitter at first from loosing his attention but when she started receiving threats and dead birds on her doorstep she soon stopped, far too consumed in her own fear to try and ruin Clarks love.

It was worth it. Everything was. Clark had everything where he wanted and soon you'd be his, but for now he would stare at you working and as he drowned in your beauty he felt himself slip into daydreams of when you first met.

Clark had been working particularly hard all night saving Metrocity from villains that seemed to linger around every corner. And when he was finally done defeating the wrong doers, he realised he had to get to work, so he bolted home and changed out of Superman and into Clark Kent. He let out a huff, feeling exhausted already, his limbs ached slightly and his body craved sleep.

He headed to work, stopping once for a bagel and a coffee before quicky paying and shooting back into the street eager to get to work on time. As he entered the elevator he let out a sigh and soon a yawn slipped past his lips. As the doors opened he slowly headed to his desk and drank his coffee, desperate to consume it so that it could provide him with energy. As he sat down he turned to his left and saw the usually empty desk, not empty. Infact it was almost as if there was someone who moved into the booth. He furrowed his brows and his answers were quickly met when he scanned the area and saw Perry leading a girl out.

"Attention everyone, this is our new employee Y/N. She'll be working on the fashion section. Treat her kindly, that's all. Get back to work." The words echoed around the area and Clark felt his heart race. You were going to sit next to him. A smile graced his lips as he saw you gracefully walk to your desk. You sat down and turned to look at Clark. He smiled, drinking in the familiarity of your eyes. They were so beautiful he was able to recognize them anywhere from in person to online. He held a steady hand out to you and you smiled, your cheeks raising and blushing over how polite the handsome co-worker was.

He couldn't help himself from trying to provoke you so he stared fully into you eyes, allowing himself to drown in your attention. "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." He noted your heart racing before it slowed down. You stared at him, a smile still gracing your lips and you blinked slowly before turning to your computer. You glanced at him before gracing him with your voice in person, "You might have, you might not have. Who cares? We're here now." You flashed him a smile with teeth completely wiping him out. He was absolutely smitten with you. Ever since he saw you online he knew, you were utterly perfect.

He returned your toothy smile with his own before speaking, "You're absolutely correct. We are here now and I am absolutely ecstatic to have a booth partner. I hope you're ready for my to grumble over the Chiefs loosing." You giggled at him, and then began getting on with work allowing idle natter to float between you two. All the while Lois stared at you both, seeing the charm oozing off Clark and how you repaid it with your giggles and smiles. She was absolutely furious, how dare this little bimbo steal his attention, she had known Clark longer and been through more than you could ever know with him.

You smiled at him and giggled, you were accepting his flirts and you accepted them with pride. Clark knew that. He could tell with the way your eyes sparkled. Which is why he decided to shower you with his shy comments everyday at work. Commenting how pretty your eyes were, how cute your dress was all with rosy cheeks and a small stutter. It was worth his awkward stuttering to see you beam with pride just from his words.

Today was no different, he had told you how great you looked but ofcourse in his own way. "You look- stunning- I mean f-fantastic." And you did, your lips glossed and plump, your cheeks lightly blushed with pretty eyelashes that made you eyes look magnificent. You giggled bringing a hand up and hiding your giggle behind it but he heard it regardless and was swimming in adoration from the sound.

After a full day of working and using his charm on you, he had distinguished your real blush from your makeup blush and that alone filled his ego. He made you blush. As you both headed for the elevator, you pulled your phone out and began typing. All the while, Clark, you and Lois as well as a few other co workers stuffed into the small space. When you put your phone back in your pocket, Clark felt his vibrate. He pulled it out and saw your notification to the public.

'Tonight at 8 cst! Prepare yourself angels, I am dripping from work.'

Clark smirked. He made you blush and he made you wet. He knew that ofcourse, he could smell your sweet juice from where he sat, but seeing you openly say you were dripping from work made his cock stir. The elevator stopped on the last floor and opened. Everyone promptly said goodbye, Clark flashed you a wink and a smile and you looked down blushing before heading home. He watched you rush away, God you were cute.

"You know Smallville, why not make a move?" Clark turned his head, his eyes still focused on you. "The times not right. Did you get in touch with Superman yet? See if he'll help you?" Lois heaved a sigh and shook her head, "He won't even try and see me anymore, but the dead animals have finally stopped and the threats are slowly stopping too." Clark nodded. Ofcourse Superman wouldn't see her anymore, he had someone else to watch. It was true he had stopped his extreme threats but that's due to Lois calming down and accepting the fact that he was very inlove with you.

And with that Clark walked away, excitement coursing through his veins for tonight. Soon he was gonna break, and if tonight was any good, he was going to break so incredibly quick and then snap you up without a second thought.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Today had been such a good day at work. You finished your article and Perry loved it, well he loved how it was written. And Clark kept flirting with you. So much that you were sure if he called you pretty one more time your heart would have exploded from how much it was beating. You did have an enormous crush on Clark, he was such a gentleman and it definitely helped how beautiful he was. His chiseled jaw and his hypnotic blue eyes always lulled you into staring at his beautiful face. You sighed, as much as you'd love to date him, you knew some of his views were a little outdated and if you told him about your second job he would be absolutely disgusted by you.

It didn't bother you, it just annoyed you. Many men in the world watched porn yet the second their partner suggested doing it they would often grimace and grumble. But you didn't care, the extra money was amazing and the thrill of being watched by so many people was enchanting. You remember one time after you had just cum and ended your stream, you were cleaning yourself up, clad only in a dressing gown when Superman appeared on your balcony.

Your heart jumped in your throat, scared of what might happen when suddenly he furrowed his brows and stared at you concern swirling in his eyes. "Is everything okay here? I heard screams." You blushed looking down, Superman had heard you cumming! Shame filled you veins and you mumbled out to him, "Yes I'm fine. I'm so sorry it was um my um pleasured noises. I'm a cam girl." Your heart was racing after telling the literal alien your job. You peaked up from the floor and saw his eyes widen and then a soft smile coat his lips, a light blush appearing on the tips of his ears. "It's absolutely fine angel. Just as long as you're okay. I'm sorry for disturbing you." And with that he flew off.

After that you decided that you needed a job and that when you joined The Daily Planet. You didn't see Superman after that incident except for on the news and you felt relieved knowing that he didn't say anything or harass you. Infact you didn't even think he cared. You smiled, he was a good man.

You got changed out of your dress and took your soaked panties off and threw them on the wash. You changed into a lace lingerie and put a sheer dressing gown on. You had eaten dinner and done your chores, so now it was time for some fun. You pulled out your vibrator and dildo and placed them next to you on your bed. You set your laptop up in the perfect place and got ready for the stream. When you started it, you saw many fill in, but decided for the first five minutes to moisturise your legs while you waited for any sticklers to join.

After you were done you smiled at the camera. "Hi there everyone. I have been so wet all day. I woke up from a naughty dream about a certain flying superhero and then I had to go to work where a co worker got my panties soaked!" You said it all with a sultry voice making sure to purse your lips and push your tits together to look pretty in the camera while saying the naughtiest things. You looked at the comments and blushed.

s.man.kent: God what a naughty slut, both of those men deserve to ruin your tight holes.

filth.y.lover: you should sell those dirty underwear

want.to.fucck: god I am so fuckin hard for you.

dirtyyy.daddyyy: get on with it you dirty slut.

You slowly slid your gown off revealing more flesh to your watchers. You got on your knees and played with the band of your panties before you slid your hands up to your tits and squeezed them in the bra. You then pulled it off watching the tips roll in. You smiled and then pinched your nipples seeing them harden behind the fabric, you saw how desperate the men were so you unstrapped your bra and let your breasts out with a fake gasp knowing that everyone that was watching thrived on your sounds. You threw your bra on the floor and stared at the camera, slowly bringing you hands up to cup your tits letting out a moan when you rubbed your thumb over your nipples.

You then decided it was time to get into the main event, and brought your panties down showing your wet, little pussy to everyone, you moaned and slapped your cunt making sure everyone heard how wet you were. You smiled coyly at the camera, a blush coating your cheeks before you reached for your dildo and started to grind against it all while making little sighs and fluttering your eyes giving the illusion of intense pleasure when in reality it was just a tiny buzz. Once the toy was soaking you lined the head up and slowly thrusted up with a loud erotic moan. You slowly started thrusting faster watching all the tips fly in.

You reached out and grabbed your vibe placing it firmly on your clit before flicking it on and whining over the buzz. You turned the vibrations up until your thighs were shaking, you knew you were close to cumming and decided to thrust a little faster making your eyes roll back and pornographic moans to pour out of your soft lips. "I'm gonna cum-" You moaned loudly and convulsed feeling pleasure swipe over you. You layed there, sweating you vibrator laying on the bed still buzzing and your pussy still hugging onto the dildo. You pulled yourself up and turned your vibrator off, and slowly slid your toy out. You smiled, a heavy blush on your cheeks, "Thank you everyone for joining me today, I'll definitely buy some new toys." You giggled and winked before ending the stream.

You sighed and took a shower needing to clean your thighs up. After you were finished you went to check your phone and saw texts from Perry.

'Interview with Superman tomorrow at 2pm. Get something good out of him.'

Your eyebrows knitted and you stared confused. Why were you getting the interview and not Lois. Did he remember you and was finally about to shame you? Your heart skipped a beat. Oh god what if he was going to expose you. With a shaky sigh you prepared yourself for tomorrow and headed to bed.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You left out a sigh, your nerves were acting up severely. This was going to be the biggest story ever and you were chosen. It didn't even fit you, you knew nothing about him! You worked in the fashion department for God's sake! When you asked Perry about this weird choice he said that Superman had requested you himself. You felt your heart race at what could happen and with no Clark around to help you calm down, you were melting in fear.

You made it to the rooftop where a table and 2 chairs were, you headed over to it and set up your notes and your recorder. You heard a 'whoosh'. You didn't need to turn to know who it was. Your heart raced with everyone heavy step that walked to the chair opposite you. You stared at him, taking in his muscular form in his suit and bringing your eyes up to his face as he sat down. He smiled at you. He then opened his mouth and spoke softly and you felt calm settle into your heart, "I do apologise if I have scared you, but Lois has been stalking me and I didn't want to be interviewed by someone who constantly wanted me involved in her personal life."

You felt your heart calm yet your mind started turning faster at hearing his voice. You smiled at him nodding, "I will admit I was incredibly confused as to why. I was scared you were going to say something about our last meeting." A dark look glazed over Superman's eyes and a smirk took over his face. "Oh angel, what makes you think I'm not going to?" You laughed awkwardly thinking he was joking. Yet when he stood up and shoved his chair back, you began to panic. You eyes widened as he stood straight, the power radiating off him was so intimidating that it caused fear to run into your veins.

"After our first meeting I was desperate for more of you. I heard you, and then I smelt you," He appeared before you and sniffed your hair making you shiver and let out a cry. "God your little pussy smelt divine, every part of you smelt perfect. I knew though that if I appeared to you again as Superman you'd be terrified so I did something better." You stared up at the hero, horror filling your heart as you saw the dark side of him. You stood up and took an unsteady step back. He chuckled at you, "You can't outrun me. So be a good girl and sit down and listen to me, and I'll be gentle with you. Got it?" You gulped your terror down, tears gathering in your eyes, a shaky whisper leaving your throat, "G-got it."

You sat down, soon Superman's large hands held your face, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. "Good girl. You see I thought if you were a cam girl it meant you'd have no idea who was watching and luckily for you, I was one of them. You made my cock so hard yesterday telling the stream that I made your cute little panties wet." You shook, it shouldn't have scared you. Afterall you agreed to let the word see you naked but the fact that someone who you knew was watching made your skin crawl.

He tilted your head up and stared up at him. "But the best part was interacting with you nearly every day baby. Look into my eyes, you know them." You stared into his blue orbs and slowly you felt your heard stop. "Clark?" He smiled brightly at you. "Smart girl! That's right! I've been beside you this whole time, and God hasn't it been wonderful, don't you think we'd be better together though?" You shook your head, "Clark this is crazy!"

"Crazy?! What's crazy is dealing with your fucking scent every day, thinking about you bouncing on my cock! I've gone insane just thinking about you being mine! I've done terrible things for you!". Your heart hammered as his eyes slowly glowed red in anger. "All the innocent blood on my hands is your fault. I've killed so many men just because they dared look at your naked body." You stared at him, tears trickling down your face. "Please-Clark."

He rolled his eyes and picked you up, before flying quickly to his house. He threw you on his bed. He locked all the doors and windows before heading back to you. You let out a sob, as he began stripping out of his suit. You saw his tone body be revealed inch by inch, knowing second by second your fate was sealed and you couldn't fight it. You stared as his hard cock sprang free. He stared at you with a hungry look before he quickly tore your dress off.

He eagerly started kissing you, making you hiss at how hard he pressed his lips to yours. You knew your lips would be bruised by his strength. His lips slowly descended down your body, making sure to leave his mark every step of the way. You felt his smile as he was at the valley of your breasts. Your heart raced and soon you let out a gasp as Clark took a nipple between his lips and suckled on it. You felt his tongue circle your hard bud and you arched your back. He smirked and bit your nipple gently. He then descended upon the other, making sure your breasts were drowning in pleasure.

He moved his large hand between your legs finding you soaked. He let out a groan and you soon felt his cock slide along your slit, you closed your eyes. He felt huge and that was from simply feeling the tip being dragged against your folds. Your felt him place his huge tip against your clit and he began humping, you gasped at the pleasure. Your hands flew around his shoulders and your wrapped your legs around his waist.

"God you're such a good slut. I knew this pussy was divine, it's so sensitive for me isn't it. Good. It means it will milk my cock. We want that baby, we want you to accept all my cum so you can be swollen with my child. Fuckin show everyone that you're mine."

He chuckled and gave a few more thrusts before he pulled his cock away. You opened your eyes and stared up into his. He looked amused before he leaned down and gently encased your lips in his. He soon began to push the tip of his cock into your small hole. He let out a groan while you whined, your nails digging into his bag and he slowly wedged himself into your cunt. You felt the tip pop in and then the rest of him thrusted in fast. You wailed at the size of him and he cooed down at you.

"Fuck, did so good baby. Taken my cock so well. Took every inch like a good girl. Doesn't it feel nice to be filled. Just wait your gonna be properly filled soon. Fuck your cunt is so fucking tight and warm. I'm in heaven."

He slowly started thrusting, dragging against your tight wet walls. You panted at the feeling, he lowered his forehead down onto yours whispering filthy words as he slowly adjusted you to his cock. Molding your pussy to his dick. He groaned as he felt yourself get wetter. He started to increase the speed of his thrusts.

He brought a big hand down to your button and began circling it vigorously, all while he breathed hard down on you mixed with grunts and groans. You moans egged him on and soon he began pounding your little pussy, making sure that his balls slapped against your ass and his pubes rubbed against his hand while he was playing with your clit.

"God I've always known that your moans were fake on stream, but here you are. Moaning like a fucking whore for my cock. I'm a god to you. You pussy is gonna weep for me just like how my cock weeps for you. I'm gonna treat you and this cunt so fucking good. Gonna be my prized possession!"

You dragged your nails down his broad back babbling for more, you felt yourself close to cumming. Clark was playing your body like a toy, and it didn't surprise you. Afterall he watched all your streams and knew how to play with your little pussy perfectly. You heard him pant, and he pressed his torso against yours before he kissed you and allowed for his cock to spear in and out of you.

"Fuck, I love you so much baby. I know your close. Can you feel how close we are. Isn't it perfect, your cunt was designed for me, and I was designed for you. I'll keep you safe forever. I promise."

He slowed for a moment and stared down at you, embracing this moment before he began thrusting again. His tip rubbing against your gspot every time. He let his hips guide him to an inhuman pace as he let himself drown in your essence. You whined and whimpered over how much his cock was beating your insides up.

"M-m gonna cum! Clark!" You didn't recognise your voice. Clark was right you were a slut. His cock had fucked the thoughts out of you head and turned you into his obedient cock slut. "Do it baby! Coat my cock! Mark me as yours. And then I'm gonna fucking fill you. Gonna get you pregnant! We're gonna be a perfect fucking family."

Your thighs began to shake and soon you coated his cock in your cum. He groaned deeply, his voice vibrating in your head. He felt your cunt tighten around him and he thrusted a few more times before his balls tightened up and he came in youm filling you up. He left his cock in you and collapsed, his head snuggled into the crook of your neck and his arms winded around your body.

"I love you. Did so good." He whispered before he fell into a slumber.

You couldn't escape ever. You knew it now. He had cum in you and there was no getting out of that, let alone escape a god like being. You felt tears stream down your face as your brought your hands to play with Clarks hair as he slept peacefully.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Living in Texas was quite a change but Clark wanted you at his home when you were going to give birth. You were excited. You had Martha there who would help you with your 2, one year olds who kicked up a fuss whenever daddy had to go.

You watched as Clark brought all the boxes into the house, displaying his strength. You smiled staring at your husband. You'd lost track of how long you drowned yourself in the illusion that you loved him. But you know that somewhere along the line it stopped being an illusion and that you had fallen in love with the devil incarnate.

Clark stepped into the room, he saw you staring at him, loving look in your eyes. He turned to look behind you and saw his mother feeding his twin children. He smiled, and turned to you. Adoration lighting up his face as he came up to you and placed a kiss gently on your forehead. You were so well behaved. Ever since you gave up everything was perfect.

Clark remembers the first and last time your tried to escape, you screams over the punishment you were given. The silent treatment you gave him after. How he had to implement fear into you, just to get you to love him. It was worth it. It got him his family. He looked down and saw your growing stomach and smiled.

He turned and began unpacking boxes making sure to make this house a home. He bought the neighbouring farm to his mothers house and he intended on making it perfect. You had already began nesting upstairs, letting your kids sleep with you in the big bed while Clark was gone.

Clark was so proud of you for becoming the wonderful mother that you are and amazing wife you were destined to be. You often begged for his cock which filled him with so much joy and boosted his ego. You were destined for him from the very beginning and he couldn't help but take advantage of that.

He unpacked all the photo albums, the precious memories that were kept in there were truly beautiful. From your first picture together when you were working at the Daily Planet with Clark to the newest photo of you holding a pregnancy test with a beaming smile on your face. He was so excited for child number three.

He had a son and a daughter so he was already overjoyed, but seeing you full with his child always made him ecstatic and he planned on keeping you pregnant for as long as possible. You walked into the living room staring at Clark as he gazed down at the photo album, you smiled. "Don't I look pretty in every picture?"

Clarks head shot up and he smiled at you. He stood up at full height before waking towards you. He towered you, something you adored now. Yet it was something that used to fill you with dread. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "You look pretty all the time, picture or not."

You blushed and smiled up at him bashfully. "I could say the same for you honey." He chuckled, "I always thought I was handsome not pretty." You giggled and leaned your head against his chest listening to his heartbeat. "Handsome, pretty, who cares when you're my husband." He wrapped his arms around you. "Damn right baby. Just like you're mine. Completely and utterly mine."

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x female reader #Clark Kent x black reader #clark kent x woc reader #clark kent x plussize reader #kal el x reader #dark! clark kent #dark clark kent #dark clark kent x reader #kal el x woc reader #kal el x black reader #superman x y/n #superman x black reader #superman x woc reader

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banddaidz · 2 months ago

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"You're my little toy, and I don't like to share."

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

WARNING⚠️: Dub-Con, Smut, Bullying, Debatably Bad Writing, I spelled Katsuki's name wrong and im too lazy to fix it.

You've been warned <3

Y/N walked into class with a sense of dread, her heart beating in her chest like a trapped bird. She knew what was coming, the same old routine that had become a sickening part of her school life. Katsuki Bakugo sat in the back, his eyes narrowing as she approached her desk. He was the epitome of toxic masculinity wrapped in a high school uniform, and she was his favorite target.

"Oh, look who it is," he sneered, as she tried to ignore him and focus on her book. "The useless little shit with the weird hair."

The classroom grew tense as all eyes shifted towards them. Y/N felt her cheeks burning with humiliation as she sat down and turned to face the front of the room, hoping that would be the end of it. But she knew better. The chair creaked as Bakugo leaned back, his fingers finding their way to the locks of her hair that fell just in front of her shoulder. He tugged, not hard enough to cause pain, but enough to make it clear that he was there, watching her, claiming his territory. The sensation of his touch made her skin crawl, but she didn't dare show it.

Mr. Aizawa, their homeroom teacher, strode into the room, his sharp gaze scanning over the students. He had a way of silencing a room without saying a word, his very presence demanding respect. He looked at Y/N with a flicker of concern, but she quickly dropped her gaze to avoid his scrutiny. She knew he'd noticed the tension between her and Bakugo, but she didn't want to make waves. Not today.

The lesson began, and Y/N found it impossible to focus. Her mind was racing with thoughts of the last time she had been alone with Bakugo, the way his hands had felt on her body, the way he had claimed her so roughly and without care for her feelings. She couldn't reconcile the monster he was in public with the one who sought her out in private. It was as if there were two of him, and she didn't know which one she hated more.

Mr. Aizawa's voice was a dull hum in the background as she took furtive glances at the clock, counting down the minutes until she could escape. She felt his eyes on her, but she kept her own gaze averted. The last thing she wanted was for him to ask questions she didn't have the answers to. Or worse, for him to see the dark circles under her eyes, the bruises she had hidden with makeup, the tremble in her hand as she held her pencil.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, she bolted up from her seat, her books clutched to her chest like a shield. She had become an expert at navigating the crowded hallways without drawing attention to herself. It was a skill she had honed out of necessity. She didn't want to give Bakugo any more opportunities to torment her today.

Mr. Aizawa's eyes followed her as she slipped out of the room, and she felt a pang of guilt for worrying him. But she didn't want his pity. Or worse, his intervention. That would only make things worse with Bakugo. She knew he wasn't the type to back down from a challenge, and she wasn't about to give him one.

Y/N's footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as she made her way towards the exit, her eyes darting to the windows that lined the corridor. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the floor that seemed to stretch out and grab at her ankles. She picked up the pace, her heart racing faster than it had during the most intense training sessions with All Might. The thought of Bakugo following her home was both terrifying and exhilarating. Her body responded in ways she didn't understand, a betrayal that made her stomach churn.

When she stepped outside, she took a deep breath of the crisp evening air, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. The schoolyard was empty, the other students having already dispersed to their various after-school activities or homes. She started walking, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of him. It was a game she had played many times before, a sadistic dance of cat and mouse that she never wanted to be a part of. But she couldn't shake the feeling that today was different.

Sure enough, she heard the telltale sound of his footsteps, the heavy tread that seemed to shake the very ground beneath her. She didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge his presence. Instead, she picked up her pace, her sneakers slapping against the concrete as she hurried towards the safety of the bustling streets. But she knew he was there, his shadow stretching out behind her like a dark promise of what was to come.

Y/N reached her house with trembling hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She fumbled with her keys, the metal cold and slippery against her sweat-slicked skin. Finally, she managed to get the door open and stepped inside, ready to slam it shut behind her. But before she could, a firm hand gripped the edge of the door, preventing it from closing. She froze, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Going home without saying goodbye?" Bakugo's voice was a low growl, and she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck as he leaned in. His smirk was palpable even without looking at him, the condescending tone of his words like a knife twisting in her gut. "That's not very nice, is it?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her hand clutching the doorframe as she stuttered out a response. "I-I didn't want to bother you." She could feel the tremor in her voice, the fear and anger warring within her. She wished she could turn around and tell him exactly what she thought of him, but she knew better. Instead, she took a shaky step backward, giving him enough space to enter.

Bakugo's grip on the door tightened, and he stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo through the empty house. He moved closer, his hand sliding around her waist, his touch feather-light despite the heavy presence he exuded. "You never have to worry about bothering me, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. The endearment made her stomach turn, but she forced herself to stay still, to not flinch away from his touch. His fingers trailed up her side, tracing the curve of her ribs, his thumb brushing against the side of her breast. It was a possessive gesture, one that made her skin crawl.

"Do you not like it when I play with you?" His voice was a low purr, the question laced with a hint of challenge. "Or do you hate me for it?"

Y/N stiffened in his embrace, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to keep the tears at bay. She hated the way he talked to her, the way he treated her like she was something to be used and discarded. But she knew better than to show her true feelings. "I just... I don't understand why you have to be so cruel in front of everyone." Her voice was barely a whisper, her throat tight with the effort of holding back the emotions that threatened to spill over.

Bakugo's chuckle was dark and low, his grip on her waist tightening ever so slightly. "It's simple," he murmured, his breath hot against her cheek. "I do it to let them all know that you're mine. No one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to talk to you. You're my little toy, and I don't like to share."

With that, he began to undress her, his movements slow and deliberate. He pulled at the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head in one smooth motion. His eyes roved over her exposed torso, lingering on the swell of her breasts that were just visible above the lacy edge of her bra. "Look at you," he whispered, his voice thick with something that might have been desire, or perhaps just the thrill of the power he held over her. "So pretty, but so fragile." He flicked the clasp of her bra open, letting it fall to the floor.

Her breath caught in her throat as he cupped one of her breasts, his thumb brushing over the nipple until it peaked. "You're like a delicate little bird," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine. "So easy to break." He bent his head, his hot mouth closing around the sensitive flesh, his teeth grazing her nipple. She bit back a moan, her body responding despite herself. His other hand traveled down to her jeans, unbuttoning them with a practiced ease, the fabric parting to reveal the matching lacy underwear beneath.

With a rough shove, he pushed her backward, her legs giving out beneath her. She landed on the couch with a soft thump, the cushions molding to her body. He stepped closer, his hands sliding down her thighs, pushing them apart. "Look how wet you are for me," he said, his voice a mix of satisfaction and mockery. "You can't help but want it, can you?"

Bakugo's touch was like fire on her skin, setting it alight with a need she couldn't control. She hated herself for it, for the way her body responded to his cruelty, but she was powerless against the desire that surged through her. His hands moved to the waistband of her underwear, tugging them down her legs. He stepped back for a moment, taking in the sight of her exposed to him. "Spread your legs," he ordered, his eyes dark with lust.

Y/N obeyed, her cheeks burning as she parted her thighs for him. He smirked, his gaze shamelessly roving over her most intimate parts. She could feel the wetness pooling between her legs, and she knew he could see it too. It was a humiliating reminder of the power he held over her, and she felt a mix of anger and arousal that she didn't know how to process.

"You're so eager," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck as he leaned in to kiss her. His hand slid between her legs, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh with a possessive hunger. She gasped as he touched her, her body responding despite her mind's protests. His thumb found her clit, circling it with a maddening slowness that had her squirming on the couch. He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. "So sensitive," he murmured. "You're going to scream for me tonight."

The sound of his phone ringing shattered the tension, a harsh electronic intrusion into the intimate moment. He didn't bother to move his hand, keeping his fingers deep inside her as he reached for his pocket with his free hand. The phone's screen lit up with an unknown number, and he brought it to his ear, his expression bored. "What?" he snapped into the receiver, not bothering with a greeting.

Y/N's body tensed, her breath hitching as she tried to remain quiet. The sensation of his fingers moving within her was almost too much, her walls clenching around him involuntarily. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she waited for him to finish his call, her eyes darting around the room for any escape. But she knew there was none, not now. His thumb brushed against her clit with purposeful strokes, sending waves of pleasure through her that she didn't want to feel but couldn't help but crave.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she bit down on her lower lip to muffle the sounds of her moans. It was a futile effort; she could feel the tension coiling inside her, building towards the inevitable climax. And just as she felt the first sparks of orgasm, his call ended with a curt, "Later," and he hung up, his grin wicked as he looked back down at her.

With a sudden jerk, he pulled his hand away, leaving her panting and desperately unsatisfied. The wetness between her legs felt cold and exposed in the absence of his touch. "Looks like we'll have to continue this another time," he said with a smug smile. "I've got somewhere to be."

"Oh, look who it is," he sneered, as she tried to ignore him and focus on her book. "The useless little shit with the weird hair."

"Do you not like it when I play with you?" His voice was a low purr, the question laced with a hint of challenge. "Or do you hate me for it?"

Y/N felt a surge of disappointment, mingled with relief, as he straightened his clothes and made for the door. She watched him go, his confident strides taking him away from her and back into the night. She wanted to be angry with herself for the way she had reacted to his touch, but she couldn't help the feeling of emptiness that settled in her chest as she listened to his footsteps fade into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GAAHHH it's been so long since I written a full fic and I miss it so much. I'm planning on making a post of what I do and don't write so it will be easier to get requests in the future. This lovely request came from an IRL friend of mine, and I decided to write it....a month after she asked...

Anyways Requests are open and I will write anything within reason, have a great day!

#smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #dubcon #bullying #full fic #fanfiction #anime #fandoms #writing

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adventuresofalgy · 1 month ago

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Surrounded by such remarkable views on such a beautiful day Algy felt so utterly full of songs that he felt he must hop back quickly over the wee ravine to The Singing Place, so that he could let some of them out in the proper manner before he burst.

The Singing Place was a very special rocky outcrop which those of Algy's friends who remember his first children's book A Surprisingly Fluffy Bird may perhaps recognise (see cover illustration below ☺️). It was here that Algy first told the tale of his dramatic and dangerous journey to the west coast of Scotland by sea to a crowd of assembled birds and animals, and, as a lonely castaway refugee, was thus able to make new friends in this land which was to become his home.

But on this much later occasion Algy had no visible audience except a distant sheep, who simply stared at him with disdain for a moment or two then continued its search for something nutritious to eat, which was undoubtedly a considerable challenge in this harsh environment and would require all the intelligence which a sheep could manage to muster…

Undeterred, Algy decided to sing his long ballad once again, just as he had done years ago. Who could tell who might be listening, hiding among the heather or the rocks?

As no human has ever heard Algy singing the saga of his voyage across the ocean it's very difficult to say what the tune might be, but the words have been recorded for posterity, and the song starts like this:

Once, upon a stormy day, Not long ago, but far away, A fluffy bird with hair of gold Perched on a branch, But lost his hold. And sad to say (Truth must be told) He fell into the water cold, He fell into the sea. He tumbled down into the sea; That clumsy fluffy bird was me. The wind began to roar and shout, The surf tossed foam and spray about, There wasn’t any time to think, He tried to float, Began to sink. Then suddenly a waterspout Swept by and saved him from the brink Of drowning in the briny drink: It sucked him from the sea. It snatched him boldly from the sea; That drowning fluffy bird was me. The day was dark, the clouds were black, The spout spun on a frantic track, Twirling fast across the sky, The bird on top Was riding high. The thunderclouds began to crack, And lightning bolts went flashing by: The poor bird thought that he would die And perish in the sea. He thought he’d perish in the sea; That wretched fluffy bird was me. The waterspout rushed straight ahead, The bird was shuddering with dread: His future seemed so very short, The fluffy bird Was quite distraught. As madly over sea he fled, The waves were in his every thought; The bird’s predicament was fraught With danger from the sea. His life was threatened by the sea; That frightened fluffy bird was me. Then, all at once, the lightning flashed, The sky burst open, thunder crashed; The waterspout released its grip, And soon the bird Began to slip. Back down into the sea he splashed; Beneath the waves he took a dip As frantically he tried to flip Back up out of the sea. He tried to jump out from the sea; That frantic fluffy bird was me. His leaping was to no avail, The ocean had him by the tail; Foul salty water filled his throat When suddenly He saw a boat With battered mast, and tattered sail Made out of some poor sailor’s coat. And there was something else afloat – A bobbing raft upon the sea. He saw a raft upon the sea; That startled fluffy bird was me. The boat was nothing but a wreck, No soul was left upon its deck: There was no sign of the crew’s fate, A story Sorry to relate. The bird struck out; he had to reach The raft: it seemed to be a crate. He wondered: would it take his weight Upon the tossing sea? A crate was rocking on the sea; That struggling fluffy bird was me. A lucky change in the sea’s swell Conveyed the drowning bird so well That he was thrown against the raft With so much force He almost laughed, And uttered an exultant yell Of joy, to find himself so close abaft A seaworthy and comfy craft: A nest upon the sea. He found a nest upon the sea; That happy fluffy bird was me. The floating crate was strong and sound, Secured with tacks and wire around. He grabbed hold of the rocking side And quickly Hauled himself inside. Overjoyed that he had found A raft upon the ocean wide, He curled up happily and sighed, Then rested on the sea. The bird was safe upon the sea; That rescued fluffy bird was me.

[Algy is singing the first nine verses of his long self-composed song The Ballad of a Fluffy Bird Lost at Sea, which appears in the penultimate chapter of his first childrens's book A Surprisingly Fluffy Bird. You can discover more about Algy's children's books on his own new web site, or on any Amazon site. Here's the link to the series on the Amazon US site, for example.]

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thelightsandtheroses · 9 months ago

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3. we can get away, palm trees, beach views ...

Let's Get Lost Chapter 3 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Summary: You and Frankie aren’t together anymore but you’re in a good place. However, spending a week together for your mutual friends’ wedding on a luxury resort might challenge that slightly and realising you’re still in love with your ex is a sure-fire recipe for disaster … Tropes: it was always you, getting back with the ex, beach!Frankie (you know *that* photoshoot) miscommunication, only one bed, good parent Frankie Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, references to past drug addiction, references to food and alcohol, discusison of TF canon events, Frankie and the reader are parents to a toddler, past break-ups. Word Count: 2500 Notes: Thank you for the lovely feedback so far - it's meant so much to me and I hope you enjoy this update. I have a lot planned for this fic. The chapter title is from I Want You Around by Snoh Aalegra.

Previous | Series | Next

You can hear the birds outside when you wake up. Soft, lyrical songs coax you awake and you hear yourself groan slightly.

There are thin lines of light streaming through the gaps in the shutters and you’re surprised you can’t hear your daughter. She’s usually awake by now.

“Clara’s still asleep,” he says in a low voice.

“That’s got to be a record,” you whisper back drowsily, quietly shifting yourself so you’re propped up by your pillows.

Frankie is bolt upright in bed, a book loosely clasped in his hands and you can see that the reading lamp by his side of the bed is turned on. Despite the dim yellow light you can still take in every detail of his face, the freckles adorning his neck, the laughter lines, his stubble.

“Mornin’” he says, meeting your sleepy gaze.

“Hi, what time is it?”

“About six?” Frankie stifles a yawn.

“Why aren’t you asleep still?”

“Just woke up early. Couldn’t - y’know …”

You look at the book in his hands, he’s a lot further ahead now than you remember him being when he placed the bookmark in last night. You notice his worn eyes, the way he looks like he’s been awake for a while.

“How’s it shaping up?” you ask, indicating the book and leaning slightly over your pillow barrier.

For a second you’re not here, you’re back in Florida a few years ago and this is your usual morning routine. All sepia lighting, soft kisses, lingering touches and hot skin against you.

You remember awkward giggles about morning breath, the way he’d kiss you like he’d been waiting for years when it had only been a matter of hours.

You return to reality with the sound of Clara’s soft snores.

Frankie smirks at you. “She gets that from -”

“Do not finish that sentence, Francisco.”

He raises his hands with an easy grin. “Full name, huh? So, do you want to try her for a bit at the kids’ club this afternoon? Get her used to it more before we’re deep in all the wedding events?”

“She’s been really excited about that and meeting the other kids,” you say. You often wonder how two introverted people produced such a gregarious child. You imagine maybe Frankie was that confident as a little boy; you can see it - all round cheeks, mischievous grin and open eyes.

“She just takes everything in her stride,” Frankie whispers.

“She’s strong.”

“Like you.”

“I meant, like you,” you say.

Frankie shakes his head but there’s the slightest hint of a twitch on his lips.

You could reach over and touch him - it feels natural.

You can remember what his lips felt like on yours - the way his hand would so carefully and lightly move down your waist in a movement so delicate you used to think of it as his fingers dancing down your body.

It’s just proximity, it’s just the proximity.

You need more pillows for the barrier.

You lean back against your chair, listening to the steady sound of the ocean in the distance.

You spent the morning exploring in the local town with Lia and Sophie. At first you felt slightly guilty to not be spending time with Clara, but she was excited about a morning with her tios before heading to the kid’s club. It is Lia’s wedding break after all and you want to celebrate with her.

It had been a really good morning; you’d found a great cafe, wandered around tourist destinations and most importantly had enjoyed your time with Lia and Sophia. The three of you kept laughing and joking and any doubt you had that you would feel out of sorts for being the only one of them who was an ex swiftly vanished. In fact, you hadn’t discussed men once. It had been great.

All of you have now met up for a late lunch back at the hotel before you drop Clara off at the kid’s club. You’re sitting opposite Frankie who today has bought out one of what you used to semi-affectionally dub his ‘loud shirts’. Frankie’s style has always ranged from simple, casual basics to the occasional louder shirt that you feel would be associated more with a PI than an ex-army pilot. It’s Frankie though. You seem to remember those shirts were pretty soft too.

You take a sip of your drink, enjoying the sweet and refreshing taste of the coconut flavoured cocktail.

Frankie catches your eye and smiles briefly.

You’re finally starting to feel a little relaxed; that nagging anxiety to check your emails or to just be ‘on’ all of the time is starting to abate.

Santi stands up and raises his glass. “Okay, I wanted to call out that we’ve got the team back together and it only took Benny here getting married for that,” Santi says cheerfully, “and it’s a double celebration today because we need to mark that Frankie got the official confirmation yesterday he’s getting his licence back.”

You watch Frankie’s face colour up with the attention.

“No fucking way,” Benny exclaims, “finally, Frankie! I’m so fucking pleased for you.”

He’s got his licence back? you think immediately, proud that he’s achieved this goal he was working towards. It’s another sign of his sobriety, of his recovery.

It stings though. He didn’t tell you. He couldn’t do this while you were together either.

He didn’t tell you. He could have told you this morning - did he not want to? Or is it just that in your new co-parenting role you don’t get to know these things immediately anymore. You’re not his girlfriend or fiancée, you’re not one of his best friends, you’re not sure where you stand anymore.

He meets your gaze and nervously nods at you, wringing his hands slightly as Benny swallows him into a one-armed hug, delicately balancing his drink with the other hand.

“That’s great news, Frankie, well done,” you say, your voice sounding clipped and cold even to you.

Will frowns at you and you feel your palms growing sweaty with embarrassment as you notice Santi shaking his head. You tighten your grasp around your oblivious daughter who immediately fidgets on your lap.

You’re doing this all wrong.

You shouldn’t be here anyway.

“I - it’s time I need to drop Clara off. I’ll uh - I’ll, um, see you all later.”

You feel Frankie’s eyes on you the whole time you’re walking away.

“Fucking really, Santi?” you hear Frankie say as you walk away.

You're not hiding. Not officially. You watch the waves ebb and flow in the near distance, scrunching your toes on the sand just past the terrace from your room. There's the faintest sound of laughter, of people enjoying their time on the beach.

You shut your eyes. How did you get the lunch so wrong?

The door closes behind you and you turn around instantly, caught in the headlights as you see Frankie standing there.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks, hesitance clear in his voice. “You just walked off? I thought we’d take Clara to the club together.”

Another failing. Why do you keep getting this so wrong? "I - I just - crap."

He pulls the terrace door to and sits on the sand next to you, hugging his knees. "It's not a big deal, sw- it's not a big deal. Just - what's wrong?"

“You didn’t tell me,” you finally say, trying so hard to hide the hurt in your voice. Frankie doesn’t have to tell you things anymore, you know that. You just thought that maybe he’d want to.

You’re friends again, right?

Frankie looks down at the sand and exhales a heavy, poignant sigh. He seems to be stopping himself from saying something, probably that it is none of your business. You watch him open his mouth then close it a couple of times and wait patiently.

“I know.”

“Do you not want to tell me things anymore? I mean, I guess you don’t have to but I thought -”

“I didn’t tell you because I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he confides.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent the past few years with this single mission. Get sober, get my licence again, get my life, or at least something like it, back.“ He pauses, looking at you and then away from you quickly. A question pops into your head and immediately dissipates - no, you can’t go there.

“Well, you’ve done it,” you say gently, placing a hand on his sandy bicep. He’s all sun warmed skin and you can smell the hint of sunscreen as you sit next to him too.

“I never thought about - about what would happen once I got those things,” he admits. “I guess, I didn’t want to jinx it, I didn’t think I’d even get it back.”

“You don’t know if you want to fly anymore?”

Frankie lives for flying. The passion you remember in his voice, the way his eyes light up when he talks about the technicalities, the detail of the science and data behind flying. He used to read flight manuals to Clara when she was sobbing with colic through the night, right before the relapse and Colombia. Every time you see a helicopter or a plane, you think of him.

Can you remember him talking about flying recently though? Can you remember that passionate, bright look in his eyes at any time recently other than when he’s with your daughter?

“The last time I was flying - I crashed it. Tom ended up dead,” he says, barely above a whisper and once again looking away from you. “It’s all on me.”

Automatically you squeeze his arm in sympathy, in the only consolation you can give right now. “Not in the crash though, you said -”

“If I hadn’t crashed it, if I had just said no to the extra weight, if I -”

“Stop, stop, Frankie.”

He looks over at you, finally meeting your gaze with wide, brown eyes. His eyes are a swirl of emotion; pain, achievement, memories you can never know, regret. There’s so much regret in his eyes now.

It’s funny, you stood in an airport baggage hall just days ago thinking he’d entirely glowed up since the break-up, but his eyes are telling you wildly different stories now.

“You can’t change the past; you can’t go over what ifs. It was - it was a tragedy but it wasn’t your tragedy, it wasn’t your fault.”

“What if it was?” he asks plaintively, “And I robbed a kid of their father, of my friend, if that’s true. Do you realise that? Can you even imagine that weight?”

“You were all grown-ups, all making your own choices that led to that exact moment. I know, I know there’s a lot about that time I don’t know, probably never will, and I don’t - I don’t want you to tell me if you don’t want to, or can’t, but know this, Frankie, you are a good man.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. For what it’s worth, I’d feel safe in any aircraft if you were flying it. ”

He swallows, looking away from you for just a moment.

“You mean that?”

“Of course.”

He nods.

Your hand has slipped into his and he squeezes. It feels so familiar, so right at this moment.

“If you don’t want to fly,” you add, “that’s okay too.”

“I don’t want Clara to have a deadbeat dad.”

“She won’t. She doesn’t.”

“I don’t want know what I’m supposed to do other than fly.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.”

It’s only later as you return to your hotel room that you realise you said we, that you made you and Frankie a unit again.

You still mean it too.

You feel awkward about what’s going to happen at dinner. Even though you’re walking in alongside Frankie, even though you know he’s going to demonstrate that the two of you are just fine, all you think about are the disappointed looks at lunch.

To your surprise, it hurts worse than leaving your daughter with a sitter.

You can only imagine what they must think of you right now.

They must think you’re becoming that stereotype of an ex - resentful and bitter and you don’t know how to say it’s not that at all. It’s that for some reason the confirmation you weren’t the first person he’d want to tell anymore cut a deep hole in your heart.

It’s hypocritical and stupid and risks ruining everything.

There’s a revelation low in your stomach you cannot let rise yet, you cannot voice because it really will ruin everything and you’re not ready for that. You’re not ready for this - things have just started to stabilise again.

You’ve prepared for dinner though. You chose one of your favourite outfits, doused yourself in your favourite perfume and spent time on your appearance for dinner. It’s armour.

Lia smiles when she sees you. “You look gorgeous,” she says in greeting, rising up and hugging you as you join them at the large table you’ve all now mentally claimed as your own throughout your stay.

She draws you in next to her. “How’s Clara? Did she like the kid’s club?”

“She did and she likes the sitter too.” You feel terrible about having a sitter on holiday but it’s novel to have a dinner with all of your friends in the evening. Besides, between you and Frankie, you’d both extensively researched and interviewed the hotel sitter so you felt as at ease as you could under the circumstances. It’s a family holiday yes, but two hours at the club and a sitter for a dinner hardly makes you and Frankie bad parents.

“That’s so good. It’s great having you and Clara both here, you know. I know work’s been a lot recently but I’ve missed you. I’m just - I’m pleased you made it.”

“Like I’d be anywhere else,” you say candidly. “You’re my best friend, Lia.”

“Ditto, just like, don’t tell my sister that?”

“Guide’s honour,” you say with a wink.

You’re grateful for Lia, she’s one of your closest friends and somehow she knows just what you needed to hear. You vow to be there more for her this week - it’s her wedding after all!

It doesn’t escape you that Frankie’s been sat with Santi and some distance from you and you are next to Lia. You wonder whose idea this seating arrangement was - Will’s perhaps, or maybe it was Sophia. You know they must be worried about a repeat of their wedding.

You take a long sip of your drink. On the other end of the table, you can hear Frankie’s soft laughter. You can’t help thinking about your conversation with him earlier, the slight tingle in your stomach when you spoke this morning.

You broke up for a reason. You know that.

It was the right thing at the right time and it hurt that all that love you had for him, that you think he had for you, was changed by everything that had gone on them.

It has to go somewhere though, doesn’t it? It can’t just stay stagnant; you’re supposed to move on.

It’s just, you think that maybe you still love Frankie a bit. Maybe you never stopped.

This is a hideously unwelcome revelation, it’s inappropriate, it’s clearly unreciprocated. You’re supposed to just be co-parents.

There’s no just with Frankie though, there never has been.

You feel nauseas. It’s starting to look like once again you and Frankie are going to end up ruining another friend’s wedding. Your best friend’s wedding to make it worse.

Only this time, it will be entirely your fault.

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs.

LGL tag-list: @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beboldbebravethings @spishsstuff @bitchesuntitled @redcake333 @missladym1981 @kungfucapslock @dinoflower-reads @kirsteng42 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @casssiopeia @beboldbebravethings @devotedlyshybarbarian @emilyfarias16 @sageispunk @amyispxnk @lola8888673 @maryfanson @lu62 @ilovepedro @katw474 @softstarlite @titlee78 @aquanatalie @girlofchaos

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#frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #fic: let's get lost #frankie morales x you

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graylinesspam · 1 year ago

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Ahsoka has plenty of experience guarding others. It's her primary purpose on the battlefield. Wielding her saber to deflect blaster bolts away from her troops so they can push forward. She's used to being a shield, using her small body to cover others. She doesn't feel so small when she has her sabers anyways. Like a bird with it's feathers ruffled.

Never before in her life has she been in this position though. Guarding Anakin. Actually guarding him. Not watching his back while he sliced into the droid network. Not waiting on the ramp for him to get a ship started. Not going through the motions of guarding his back as they train together. Anakin forcing himself to slow down to her pace so she can learn teamwork.

This is real.

Anakin is unconscious face down on the ground. His limp limbs splayed awkwardly just like Obiw-wan's had been only a day earlier. But Obi-wan had been dead. Despite all the CPR she performed, despite pumping his chest until a trooper had to pull her off of him, his ribs threatening to break under her hands.

Obi-wan died. And now Anakin was unconscious on the ground with the most prolific bounty hunter in the galaxy stalking towards them. Ahsoka felt her chest rip itself open in a growl. Her teeth bared and dripping. She flips over his body dropping her center of gravity low, spreading her sabers like great bird wings to cover as much of his body as she can.

She can see the gleam in Bane's eye, the challenge.

This will be a fight to the death. She knows it the same way she did staring down Grievous when she was a fresh padawan. She can only hope it won't be Anakin's life she loses.

Her muscles tense as she waits for him to strike, eyes zeroed in on his faintest movement but before he can make a move he's called away by Eval.

Bane calls her lucky and as much as bile rises in the back of her throat she does feel lucky. Relief welling in the place fear had taken up in her chest. when their ship lifts off Ahsoka finally drops her protective stance and her hand flies to Anakin's throat. She knows he's not dead, she can feel him in the force but her mind won't accept it until she feels his pulse fluttering under her fingers.

He groans as she tilts his head and nothing has made her feel as safe as the tensing of muscles in his neck as he moves. Truly really alive. Not forever limp as Obi-wan had been.

#star wars #ahsoka tano #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw #anakin skywalker #fanfic #501st #obi wan kenobi #cad bane #rako hardeen #hardeen arc #whump #angst #i told you guys i was coming with the pain

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littlejuicebox · 11 months ago

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I just want to stay in that lavender haze.

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character/Ranger AKA AstarionxWren Rating/Warnings: PG maybe 13?/ Act 1 Spoilers / Nudity / Sexual Tension / Gore / Angst / Anxiety / Cursing / Lae'zel being kind of a butthole Chapter number: Nine Word count: 3.9K Masterlist: Click here. Song inspiration: "Lavender Haze" - Taylor Swift Notes: I know only a few people read this series religiously but thank you! Wren and Astarion are my little lovely goobers and I'm glad at least one person loves them as much as I do. And I know my other work gets more attention, but this is my favorite storyline and I plan to continue writing it. That being said, if you do actually enjoy their story… I truly appreciate the comments on this fic and that’s what inspires me to keep writing them even though they don’t get as much traffic.

-----

After terminating the last few goblins, everyone recollected themselves outside of the dilapidated temple. A few healing potions were drunk, a couple of incantations were murmured and then the group turned to Wren with an expectant look, waiting for her next directive.

The half-elf woman never actually wanted to be a leader. But more than once, she’d had the damned role thrust upon her. It was becoming annoyingly, and unfortunately, apparent that this time would be no different. What was it about her that made everyone trust her judgement; why did they let her make the calls? Hadn’t Shadowheart been doing a fine job… couldn’t she just… keep doing it?

The tired little bird sighed, running her bloodied, callused hands through a mess of gut-splattered brunette hair as she looked towards the sky, quickly gauging the time. It was early evening by now. The last few rays of sunlight were glimmering upon the horizon as that soft blend of rose and orange began to melt into a deeper, star-speckled blue. The merry band of misfits had to accomplish two things at once by nightfall… so unfortunately, they would have to split up.

Wren rubbed at the jagged lightning bolt burns sneaking out from underneath her bracers; it hurt like hells. Her eyes glossed over the group as she took a deep, exhausted breath, and then muttered, “Well... I’m sure Halsin needs to get to Emerald Grove as soon as possible. Some of us should go with him and the others should swing by the bog to pack up camp and bring it all back to the Grove. We'll have to head out from there once we've all had some time to recover. Astarion and I will go with Halsin, the rest of you can pack up camp and then meet up with us.”

Lae’zel made it clear she disapproved of this call with a hissed, “Tchk! Why do we have to do all the grunt work, while you and your favorite vampire princess get the easier route.”

Astarion almost leapt forward to snap at insufferable woman, quite displeased with being called a princess. Before he could, Wren’s mouth hardened into a thin line at the challenge, and she quickly stepped closer to the Githyanki, tone dropped into an irritated hiss.

“You’ve been given more people than we have, Lae’zel. The Grove needed Halsin back yesterday, and Astarion is skilled at both downing and evading enemies… whatever we may happen to need along the way. The Archdruid can surely handle himself. As for the rest of you… Well, sorry to be the one to say it and to burst your little bubbles, but none of you aren’t quite as versatile as the two of us, and you all need one another to cover your weak spots. It isn't favoritism, it's pragmatism.

And as for me? I had my brain invaded and nearly fell to my death today… so no, I’m not interested in packing up camp and playing inventory manager right now. If that’s such a problem for you, Lae'zel, and you’re questioning my judgement, then leave my shit there for all I care. I have all I need in my pack... Or should I remind you, I'm not the one that insists on hauling a stone wheel all around Faerun when a simple whetstone would suffice?"

Wren and Lae'zel were roughly the same height; she stood nose to nose with the fighter, her two-toned eyes boring into angry reptilian ones. Gods, Wren was growing so tired of this. If no one else wanted to be the one to make the calls, then why was there always someone questioning her judgement?

“Oi, no worries, mate! I’ll take care of yours and Fangs’ stuff.” Karlach cut in, stepping between the two women, quick to try and ease the group tension. “Go on and we’ll meet you — the Grove has to be in an absolute state by now, what with Kagha and all her antics.”

Lae'zel spat at the ground and then spun away from Wren, and the two groups went their separate ways in silence.

-----

The short journey to Emerald Grove was a mostly quiet one. Astarion felt too mentally worn from all the revelations of the day to play the loquacious, flirtatious rake. Wren, on the other hand, felt absolutely shredded around the edges of both her psyche and her body.

The Druid and the ranger had a brief conversation about her father, but it soon became clear it wasn’t a subject Wren wanted to discuss for too long. She would trail off or become distracted during the conversation, her mind entirely elsewhere. Halsin graciously took the hint and let silence fall among the trio, chalking everything up to the exhaustion of such a tedious and gore filled day.

At the gates of Emerald Grove, many of the tieflings and a few of the druids welcomed the Archdruid with a chorus of ecstatic cheers. All three beings were ushered in with a smattering of hugs, thanks, and congratulations, which Wren numbly accepted and Astarion willingly played into. Halsin soon interrupted the small welcoming party and rushed to interrupt the ritual of thorns, unleashing a scary and very bear-like chastisement to all the participants. His thundering voice drew the attention of everyone in the grove, and Wren took the opportunity to quickly peel away from the scene.

Astarion’s eyes followed Wren as she headed towards where they’d rescued that Tiefling kid from the Harpies weeks ago. This was his chance; the other campmates weren’t around to stick their noses into his business. The vampire thought for a moment that he might try and use his body to lure information from her like a Harpy used their voice to lure tiefling children… and he quickly made his peace with that possibility. Whatever the method, the rogue had to act now, without the risk of outside interruptions. He had to pry some information out of Wren tonight.

The pale elf quickly trailed down the remaining stone steps while the other druids had their heads bowed, listening to Halsin's booming lecture. Silent steps led him around the curved pathway, down to the water bank. He thought he’d see Wren rinsing her hands and face, ridding them of filth or taking a small moment of silence to stargaze or smoke from that pilfered pipe. He truly didn’t expect to see a panicked little bird, tearing wildly her own armor, trying to rip it off. He stared dumbly at the wide-eyed and panting ranger, watching as she appeared to be in the middle of a battle with… well, herself.

Wren’s eyes snapped to Astarion, where he was frozen mid step, scarlet eyes assessing her hysterical movements. Suddenly, she called out in something between a strangled scream and a sob, shaking hands now pulling desperately at her chest plate, “Take it off! Take it off! Please!”

She fell to her knees, half in the sand, half in the water. Her hands ripped at the leather straps of her armor as she heaved. She sounded as if the weight of her armor were crushing her; she sounded as if she couldn't breathe.

Of course, she could breathe… she was speaking, after all. Astarion didn’t know what else to do but answer her pleading voice. So he moved forward, deft hands quickly unsnapping buckles and ripping leather pauldrons from the ranger’s shoulders. She gasped in relief, and without a word, nimble fingers moved down to snap off her chest plate and then quickly loosened the laces of her bracers.

His brow furrowed as he watched Wren’s face, still caked in goblin guts, with thin rivulets of tears streaming from her two-toned eyes. She clumsily slid her bracers off and threw them down into the sand. Wren was still heaving as she sank down into the earth and then suddenly, she was sobbing, her entire body shaking with the force of her cries.

Gods. This absolutely hadn’t been the plan; Astarion was, once again, totally out of his depth here. How did he keep getting caught in these ridiculous situations with her? None of this ever ran on any script he'd ever prepared for himself.

The rogue ran a stressed hand through his hair before he took a deep breath and kneeled beside her, placing his cold hands on either of her shoulders. “Darling, listen to me! Shut up, right now. Stop this instant or else the entire grove is going to be here staring at you in a few minutes and unless I’m horribly mistaken, you don’t want that. Wren, come on, that's enough!”

The ranger wasn’t listening; to be fair, Astarion couldn’t be sure she heard him in her current state. She was still crying -- well, wailing, really -- and the look in her eyes seemed a million miles away. He recognized that look, that feeling. It made his gut churn. The vampire began to panic; she needed to quiet down before this all became an even bigger spectacle, or worse, someone accused him of causing her pain.

“Darling! Wren! For gods sakes—“ The rogue snapped his eyes shut and plunged forward in a last-ditch effort. He smashed his always-cold lips into her always-warm ones, swallowing her insufferable cries, digging so tightly into her shoulders as if he were hoping to pull her out of her own mind with brute force.

They stayed frozen like this for several beats; time almost felt like it ground to a halt. Astarion could hear the half-elf woman’s heart thudding erratically in her chest and then, miraculously, slow itself to a steadier thrum. The vampire opened his eyes and pulled away to see the little bird staring dumbly at him, her perpetually berry-stained lips swollen from the crushing force of his mouth on hers. Wren blinked rapidly, but remained silent, before carefully lifting her hand out of the water and brushing it against her own lips.

“Apologies, darling, but I didn’t know what else to do. Now let’s get cleaned up and then we can chat about whatever is going on in that pretty but absolutely twisted head of yours.” Astarion murmured, quite ruffled, but still lifting himself to his feet and then holding out a hand to help the little bird up, as well.

The half-elf woman had apparently fallen selectively mute, but she nodded her head and followed the vampire as he dragged her back toward the grove circle.

He was still mad at her. Furious, really. He didn’t have all the words to explain why, but he felt she’d somehow been misleading or hiding things from him all along. But then again, hadn’t he been doing the same in so many ways? If he weren't outright lying, which he definitely had more than once, then wasn't he also concealing aspects of himself… just like she had? But somehow, despite the clear hypocrisy Astarion was aware of and chose to ignore, it still felt like a betrayal to him. And yet, even though she absolutely infuriated him… the way she looked in her panic plucked at his heartstrings and compelled him, beyond his better judgement, to comfort her.

Gods this was supposed to be easy. A nice, simple plan. But it grew increasingly complicated by the minute.

-----

Halsin kindly allowed Astarion and Wren access to his bedchamber. The bear of a man often preferred to bathe in the natural water source on the edge of the Grove, but he conveniently kept a tub for soaking within his personal chambers, more for his own rare moments of enjoyment.

“Thank the gods that the druid isn’t totally removed from society.” Astarion mumbled, after Halsin helped to fill the massive wooden tub with heated water and then politely saw himself out. He was about to have a lengthy conversation with Kagha… surely, they would hear the results later.

Wren hadn't uttered a single word, but she watched as the vampire moved around her, plucking jars from the shelf by the tub and sniffing them. Finally, he settled on one, and poured some of the milky contents into the tub, causing the water inside to turn a clouded haze of pale purple. Then, he spun to the little bird and clapped his hands in his signature, impatient chop-chop. “Well, come on then, darling. In you go."

Wren sat blinking at him, unmoving. Astarion scoffed and rolled his eyes, briskly moving toward the archer. “Little bird, surely you aren’t going to turn down the first real bath you’ve had in weeks and the only one you’ll get for who knows how long. Now enough of this. Arms up.”

The half-elf sighed and followed Astarion's order with heavy limbs. The vampire stripped her of everything besides her underwear and then tugged her with a bit of force, over to the tub. The rogue couldn’t help but admire the sinewy ripples of her back, and the freckles along her collarbone as he watched Wren remove her smallclothes and sink into the opaque tub of water.

The little bird closed her eyes and sighed as the comforting smell of lavender began to swirl around her. Wren allowed herself the smallest moment of bliss as she inhaled the relaxing tendrils of scented steam, but then she felt Astarion’s leg slipping into the bath with her and snapped her eyes open to stare at the silver-haired elf.

The man cocked an eyebrow as he assessed Wren’s wide, shocked eyes from where he faced her, now sunk chest deep in water, sitting on the opposite side of the tub. He huffed and leaned back in the bath as his long arms crossed resolutely.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re suddenly a prude now, little bird. This bath is more than big enough for the two of us, thanks to the behemoth it belongs to, and we’ve already seen one another completely nude and in the throes of ecstasy. So, if you think I’m going to pass up the only luxurious bath I might get in weeks, just because you’re naked and in a sour mood, you’re dead wrong.”

Wren chuckled; Astarion smirked in response at the first sign of her potentially improving mood. And then the ranger gave a good-natured eye roll before she shifted over just enough to make a bit of room for the rogue’s legs. But still, she didn’t speak.

The vampire occupied himself with dunking a sponge in water and wiping the grime off his own body. After that, he grabbed a small wooden cup off the bath tray and rinsed his hair; pale hands moved to scrub more of that milky liquid through his blood-flecked silver strands. Astarion closed his eyes and carefully rinsed again, inhaling the floral aroma and ensuring he felt no more suds remaining in his precious curled locks.

When the rogue’s lids fluttered open, the little bird had already moved to scrubbing her own body with a sponge. With his eyes closed, Astarion didn't see that she'd been staring at him, admiring his little smile and the way his hair looked weighed down by the water.

Wren flicked her gaze toward the vampire and sighed; her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but then she sighed and shut it again. A few more minutes of silence passed, in which both beings simply welcomed the heat as it eased the soreness of overtired muscles.

Eventually, the ranger broke the silence, her voice still raw and scratchy from the earlier episode at the shoreline. The pale elf's eyes were closed as he lounged in the tub, but quickly snapped open when his pointed ears picked up her quiet, shaking voice.

“There are many pathways to and from the Underdark throughout Faerun. Kol was out with his friends, exploring one of those pathways. Unfortunately, they’d picked one that led to a cavern full of Phase Spiders… not unlike the one we encountered down that well.

We were out hunting when we heard their screams and went to investigate. By the time we downed the spiders, Kol was the only one alive… but barely.”

Astarion passed the cup to Wren as she spoke, and a few more seconds of silence passed as she rinsed and scrubbed her own hair with the lavender-scented solution. The elf watched from hooded, relaxed eyes as the water ran down the woman’s neck, languidly flowing down to that little spot at the crook where two faint pinpricks blended into a smattering of freckles, before finally trickling to where her breasts hid under the clouded tub of water.

“My father and the other elders wanted to leave Kol there to die… simply let nature take its course. But a few of the younger generation, including myself, begged them for mercy and they relented. Kol spent a week with us before he was well enough to go on his way and return to the Underdark. But he didn’t want to go. Life isn’t exactly great for male Drows in Menzoberranzan, especially not a second son, despite the Baenre name. So, he left a coded note in the cavern in case any of his other friends hoping to escape came looking for him... and then he was one of us.

Father considered Kol dead weight… he was softer, an artist… he would often draw me pictures of squirrels or other creatures. He was about average with a blade and terrible with a bow… but he was talented in other ways and surprisingly kind. I’d never met a man with a gentle, soft-hearted nature quite like him. And he pulled a softness out of myself that I’d shoved down and all but forgotten when my aunt brought me to my dad.

My father never wanted to be a parent, he remained unwed and unattached for that very reason, but I was an unexpected consequence of his actions and well… suffice to say I didn’t always have the most tender upbringing. Neither did Kol, but he honored his own nature despite that.

Anyway, my dad wanted me to marry Zahara, my first love… or one of the other warriors. His priority was to guarantee my safety and status within the clan. Either Zahara or I were going to be the next elder when one of the clan members passed… so it was the most pragmatic decision. But I was uninterested; so was she… we’d had our fun, but the romantic love just never stuck between us.

Against my father’s wishes, I snuck away with Kol... more than once. We sometimes journeyed down into the Underdark, and he showed me around very briefly. I suppose you've never been, but it’s beautiful down there, truly. We would never venture close to the city; he didn’t want to risk being caught… turning from Lolth is unthinkable and unacceptable in their culture. But I know he missed the beauty of the Underdark… he drew it all the time.

Father eventually relented and gave his blessing for Kol and me to be married. He knew I would leave and marry Kol on my own, settle down in some small hamlet or within a city, if it ever came down to it. So, we were married one beautiful autumn day, and we spent five years as husband and wife until his own kin found him.

They tracked us for days, waiting for the right opportunity. Kol was ambushed; they found him alone by the river near where we’d made camp. He was drawing, practically defenseless apart from a small dagger. I had been hunting not far away with the youngling group I’d been placed in charge of. I ran to the screams, but he was already gone when I got to him... Minthara was among them, she escaped… but one of her siblings and a two of her cousins were less lucky, in the end.”

Wren blinked away tears that were just beginning to form in her eyes as her voice cracked. She inhaled a shuttering breath through wobbling lips. Astarion watched the little lip scar that he was absolutely obsessed with as it trembled and fought back the urge to move forward and envelop it in a kiss.

The little bird dunked her lithe hands under the water and brought them back up to her face, wiping at the final specks of blood still stuck to her forehead and cheeks. She missed the spot near her eye, and Astarion leaned himself forward, lifting his hand to gently rub at the stubborn stain with his thumb. His eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to process all the information. And then, he stuck his foot in his mouth.

“So… when you said you downed two of house Baenre… it turns out you didn’t actually mean your own husband.” He murmured, his hand lingering a beat too long on her cheek.

“No! What?!” Wren snapped, her own eyebrows crinkling together as she pushed Astarion's hand away from her face.

Astarion rolled his eyes and huffed, leaning back again on his side of the tub. Part of him wanted to back off, but the more insolent and hurt part decided to double down. “Look, you've been quite mysterious about all this, and one can’t help but assume things, trying to make sense of it all. You’re hard to read!”

“Have you ever considered I’m not here like a book to be read?” The little bird snapped, suddenly lifting herself out of the bath. Streams of water trickled from her dark hair down her naked, freckled body. Astarion averted his gaze, suddenly quite aware he'd made another misstep and unwilling to piss Wren off further with his wandering eyes.

She climbed from the tub and snatched a towel from the shelf, wrapping it around herself before crouching and rustling through her bag. Then Wren quickly pulled her chemise from the sack and threw it over her head. When she turned and looked at Astarion, the expression on her face was a heartbreaking mixture of disappointment and sadness. She heaved a heavy, burdened sigh as she slipped her camp shoes on and shoved everything into her bag before grabbing it by one tattered strap.

“Astarion…” His name on her lips simultaneously sounded like a song and a slap, “If you’d ever bothered to actually ask me about myself… I would’ve told you the truth. I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know… if you’d just asked. I felt it, that night you pried into my mind, after the first time we kissed, you know. Why do you think you saw primarily nature scenes? That Wood Elf you kept seeing? It was a nightmare… not a memory.”

And then she walked out of the room, leaving Astarion alone and staring up at the ceiling. The vampire ran his hand through his hair and then groaned, dunking himself under the water’s lavender-scented, hazy surface. He closed his eyes, effectively cutting his senses off to the outside world. For a while, Astarion considered staying like this forever… he didn’t need to breathe, after all. Perhaps he could just hide in the tub, senses numb, all alone. Nobody would miss him or come looking for him here… that much was certain.

But soon the bath water started to grow cold, his fingers began to prune, and the rogue’s discomfort forced him to break through to the surface — and to reality — once again. He stood and shook his head, spraying scented droplets around the room before gathering his own towel and wrapping it around his waist. Astarion sighed and sat down on a bench, pinching his nose bridge as he wondered what in the hells he should do now. His body was clean, but his mind still felt riddled with debris.

Perhaps it hadn’t been Wren weaving a messy web around him… perhaps he’d been the one doing it to himself all along.

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #astarion x original female character #astarion smut #astarion x oc #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #tav x astarion #astarion x female oc #bg3 slowburn #slow burn fanfic

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thelastdiamondpiratealchemist · 7 months ago

Text

☆☆☆☆Ruffled Feathers☆☆☆☆☆

Star wanted to surprise Asha with a special breakfast, but things don't go as planned as he wished.

Sunlight streamed through the window, dappling Star's face in a warm glow. He stretched luxuriously, his golden eyes blinking open.

Today was the day!

He'd surprise Asha with breakfast in bed, a perfect way to start their weekend. Pancakes with berries, just the way she liked them.

He didn't jump—no, he flew out of his bed so his feet wouldn't make any noise as he walked across the creepy floor. He opened the door to his messy room, winching slightly as it made a slight squeaky sound from the doorway hinges.

He flew down the stairs and towards the front door. He opened the door, and the warm sun bathed him in gentle light. Star sighed softly to himself; the rays felt comforting and good.

He landed outside the front of the house and placed his hands on his hips. Now, the real challenge awaited—the eggs. Monster, the rooster, wasn't known for his hospitality. Star took a deep breath.

Time to put Operation: Surprise Pancakes into action!

He grabs a basket and runs down the path to the chicken coop nestled between two large weeping willow trees. He shivers to himself as his confidence slowly turns into fear as he approaches the well-kept coop.

He was terrified of chickens, a silly fear he was embarrassed to admit. Star shuffled his feet, the basket feeling heavier with each hesitant step.

He peeked through a crack in the coop, hoping to catch Monster napping. Instead, the fiery red rooster stood tall in the center, surveying his domain with a beady, yellow eye.

Star gulped. Direct confrontation was not an option to admit.

“Cock-a-doodle-dooo!!!” Monster caws, spreading his large red wings outwards before charging at the closed door at full speed, his body slamming against the wooden surface.

The sudden squawk and crash from the coop sent Star leaping a foot in the air. His basket tumbled from his grasp, spilling across the grassy path. Monster's enraged caws echoed through the morning air, punctuated by the frantic thumps of his wings against the coop door. Star knew then that a head-on assault was definitely not on the menu.

He took a deep breath and had to get those eggs to make breakfast! Stat took his hand and unlocked the door to the chicken coop.

"Hey, Monster…" he smiled nervously, watching the rooster from the center of his sight. Star stepped into the coop, "I just want…. Aaahhhh!!!"

The Monster attacked him again, and feathers flew in all directions. He used his orange beak as a battling ram against Star, and then the hens followed, jumping from their nests.

Beaks snapped, claws scratched, and the coop erupted into a cacophony of squawks and panicked flapping. Star felt like a ragdoll being tossed around by a feathery hurricane.

A particularly aggressive hen, Gertrude, by name, latched onto a lock of Star's hair, yanking with surprising strength. Another, a young pullet named Penelope, used his back as a launching pad, propelling herself towards a nest perched precariously on a ledge.

Star, overwhelmed and desperate, did the only thing he could think of. With a silent plea to the Wishing Realm, he channeled all his energy and morphed.

This time, however, the transformation wasn't planned. It was pure panic.

He turns into a fox.

Great…. He'd transformed into one of the greatest enemies of chickens….

"Oh, great galaxies…" he whispered, the dreaded birds surrounding him

Star bolted through the coop door, a flurry of fur and fear. The hens, momentarily stunned, squawked in outrage.

Overcoming his surprise, Monster launched himself after Star with a furious crow.

Outside, the world blurred as Star weaved through the tall grass, the frantic drumming of his paws the only sound in his ears.

Behind him, he could hear the enraged squawking of the hens and the powerful thrumming of Monster's wings as the rooster gave chase.

Asha from her room heard everything as she peered outside her windows; she felt her mouth drop open as she saw everything.

An army of chickens chased a golden glowing fox; for a moment, Asha questioned her sanity. Was she still dreaming? Had the stress of planning their weekend getaway finally pushed her over the edge?

But the frantic clucking and the unmistakable thump of feathered feet against the ground convinced her otherwise.

This was real.

Her boyfriend, Star, was a glowing fox chased by an army of angry chickens.

Curiosity warring with a sudden surge of protectiveness, Asha threw on a robe and bolted out the back door.

The chase had reached the base of the giant oak Star had targeted. The fox, panting heavily, scrambled up the rough bark, claws digging desperately for purchase.

Just as he reached a sturdy branch, Monster launched himself into the air, a crimson blur against the clear blue sky. Monster grabs Star by his tail with his sharp beak, making the poor shapeshifter yelp.

"Yeow!!" he cried, his eyes almost popping from his skull.

"Monster!" she called out, her voice surprisingly steady. "Let him go! Now!"

Momentarily startled, the rooster tilted his head, his beady eyes switching between Asha and his dangling prize.

The hens, sensing a shift in power, fell silent, their attention drawn to the unexpected human intervention. The rooster released his beak from Star's tail, pulling a few golden hairs free.

"Bok…." Monster growled; Asha put her hands on his.

"Nu-uh! Don't you 'bok' me!" She frowns.

Asha's firm command hung in the air, starkly contrasting with the frantic clucking that had filled the moments before. Monster, caught off guard by her sudden appearance and unwavering voice, blinked his beady eyes.

He turns his head upwards, giving a state-down at the trembling Star as he transforms back into his humanoid form and clutches onto the tree's base for dear life.

"Bok-bok!" Monster seemed to argue with AshaAsha's unflinching gaze and met Monster's beady stare in a silent battle of wills.

The rooster puffed out his chest, feathers bristling, and let out a defiant. "Bok!" That echoed across the farmyard. But the fire in his eyes had dimmed, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.

Star, clinging precariously to the branch high above, watched the exchange with relief and amusement. Asha's sudden intervention had been nothing short of heroic, and the sight of her facing down the fearsome (well, mostly) rooster was both impressive and slightly terrifying.

As Monster continued his argumentative "bok-bok-boking," Asha folded her arms across her chest, her stance firm.

"Look," she said, calm but firm, "I understand you're protecting your flock. But Star here just wanted a few eggs for breakfast. There's no need for all this ruckus."

Monster tilted his head, considering her words. Sensing their leader's indecision, the hens shuffled their feet and murmured amongst themselves.

Perhaps Asha's unwavering presence and reasonable tone were starting to break through their feathered outrage.

Seeing an opening, Star called down from the branch, his voice sheepish but hopeful.

"Yeah, Monster! And hey, maybe we can work out a deal? Like, some fresh fruit for breakfast for trade for the eggs? Or maybe a nice dust bath for you and the ladies?" he suggested

A low murmur rippled through the hens at the mention of a dust bath. Dust baths were a luxurious treat, a chance to preen their feathers and eliminate pesky parasites. Monster, too, seemed to contemplate the offer.

After all, a complete dust bath was hard to resist.

"See, Star has some great ideas! Why don't we all calm down, and maybe I can even offer some help gathering delicious fruits for everyone?" Asha seized the moment.

A tense silence hung in the air for a beat, then Monster let out a single, hesitant "Bok." It wasn't quite a surrender, but it wasn't a declaration of war either.

The hens quieted down completely, their beady eyes fixed on Asha.

Taking a deep breath, Asha offered a small smile.

"Alright then," she said, extending a hand towards Monster in a gesture of peace. "Truce?"

Monster regarded her hand for a moment, then, with a slight dip of his head, nudged it with his beak. A triumphant grin spread across Asha's face. Despite its chaotic start, their farmyard breakfast mission might have a peaceful ending after all.

Monster and the hens return to the chicken coop. Star watches from the safety of the tree; he glances down at Asha with wide eyes.

"Can I come down now…?" he asks, a relieved laugh bubbling out of Asha's throat.

"Sure," she called back, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Just, maybe try the front door next time, huh?"

Star jumps down from the tree with a frown printed across his lips. He crosses his arms across his chest, feeling sad and disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Asha, I wanted to surprise you with breakfast this morning…" he apologized.

Asha's smile softened, understanding washing over her. She walked towards the tree's base, her eyes meeting Star's.

"It's okay, Star." She assured him, taking his hands into hers as she gently squeezed them. "You don't have to worry about eggs for breakfast; we can have bacon and maybe some fresh fruit and toast instead?"

Star, relieved and a little sheepish, smiles back.

"Yeah, I'd like that." nodded.

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the-demons-writings · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! o/

Could I request a DreamSMP!Child!Reader being transported into Empires SMP and lands in Scott’s empire?

If not that’s completely fine ^-^

Have a lovely day! :)

Of course I can! Sorry it's a little rushed !

Just for you

Empires season 1 Scott x Dsmp child dragon reader

[Pt1]||Pt2

Running. That's all you could afford to do. Stopping meant wasting time and wasting time meant you'd get caught, and you can't get caught here. Not when all the adults are untrustworthy. You've made that mistake once, but never again.

Taking a quick glance behind you, you could see him . The Baron of the land Dream and he was gaining. With a small yelp leaving you you hurriedly tried to pick up pace to escape the once was bounty hunter. You couldn't go back with him, you absolutely refused. He was the one who messed up your wings. A sword right through the webbing of your wings , making it almost impossible for you to fly again.

Spotting a nether portal you hoped at least in the nether you'd be faster. You'd have the advantage compared to the bounty hunter behind you. A crossbow bolt whizzed past you as you ran your hope for the advantage you'd have in the nether only growing. You were only a foot away when you tripped rolling to a stop just outside the portal's boundaries. Dream stood In front of you the mask he wore seeming to contort into an inhumane smile. As he loaded a crossbow bolt you suddenly felt something clawed grab your hands and suddenly you were pulled through the portal harshly.

Now this certainly isn't the first time you've traveled by portal and usually you hold up just fine, but this time you felt sick. And as you were dragged out of the portal you rolled only to end up face first in snow. You sat up quickly, blinking hurriedly , there's no snow in the nether. Clearly toubaren where you thought.

Looking around it was gorgeous, a city built, into, around, and on a snow covered mountain. You were freezing. Your origin was from the nether, being in the over world was challenging enough without the cold , the cold makes it so much worse. Looking around you notice sheep. Certainly no one would mind if you just slaughtered a few and made yourself something cozy.

You moved to take a step but something caught your ear. Talking coming from above the portal entrance. You sucked in a breath aiming to keep yourself quiet as you reached for the enchanted iron sword on your hip. The moment footsteps crossed your path you pointed the sword at them.

At the end of your sword a blue haired bird hybrid (?). Honestly you weren't sure he had antlers and elven ears. You wouldn't know . Your sword was pointed up just below his chin aimed at the back . He looked bored as you did so .

Rolling his eyes he sighed. "Your stance is off if you're going to mug someone especially a king do it right

" he huffed, pulling out his own sword. Using his own sword he maneuvered your launching it from your grip and into the snow. As you stood baffled he looked you over, you couldn't be anymore than maybe ten. What were you doing here near the Portal?

Upon further inspection he noted your horns, wings, tail and the small patches of scales that littled your face. A dragons child? That certainly had to be a myth. The only person who'd even had the chance of hatching an egg was Gem and even then dragons can't seem to make it out of any kingdom except the Crystal Cliffs without being hunted into near extinction.

He stared and you stared back. When you finally deterred him as not a threat you brought your foot back and kicked him in the shins. No adult is trustworthy, certainly not one who puts a sword to you. He yelled, his sword suddenly disappearing as he dropped to assess his shins. "What the hell kid!" He shouts at you .

You huff turning to run before your picked up by the back of your shirt. Far too close to your wings for your liking "Let me go! I'll kill you, I'll do it! You bird brained bastard!" You shouted back struggling in the grasp.

Scott didn't like that, you're a dragon you're meant to be harder to pick up. He also hated the way your wings looked, tattered as if someone had run a blade through thin leather. "Calm down there's going to be a snow storm, I don't want you to freeze so you can stay in my castle." He states plane and simple. Thinking about it what's he gimg to tell Jimmy, better yet what is he going to tell his sibling Xornoth.

If anyone's better equipped to deal with a child from the Nether it's Xornoth. But he knows Xornoth is out late for the night. As he started to walk he picked up your sword only making you angrier. You hiss as your pulled along despite your struggles.

No adult is trustworthy.

Much to Scott's dismay he's able to carry you back with relative ease despite the struggling. Once he'd gotten you inside he set you down. Making the door was closed and locked behind him he didn't want snow getting in later.

The moment you were set down you distanced yourself heavily though the warmth of the room made you want to curl up. While warm it was still colder than temperatures you're used to honestly you could if given the chance, curl up and fall asleep on the floor.

Scott looked at you worriedly. He didn't like how frightened you looked , Much less how violent you seemed , he wanted to know what happened. Thinking about you seemed possibly as stubborn as his brother, maybe even as stubborn as Jimmy. Maybe he could offer you food? Slowly he walked towards the kitchen , the way you stared at him with murderous intent never seemed to leave.

"Hey, kid. You hungry? I've got soup, it's warm and you'll probably feel a little less sleepy "

You glared a growling building up in your throat. "Like hell I want food from a fuckin adult. You're probably out to poison me or I don't use me for some kind of gain!" You shout

"I'm not some adult, I'm Scott smajor, you can call me Scott if you like but the insults just won't do" Scott stares humming trying to figure out what you might eat, you've got to eat something preferably, something warm to keep your body temperature up. "Would you like to help me cook or just watch me cook so you can ensure that I haven't poisoned any of the food or anything of that manner?"

You look around then at the bird king himself. "If I don't know what it is you'll tell me what it is right ?" You asked, still opting to keep your distance the best you could. You were skeptical he hadn't done anything hostile towards you yet .

He nodded as he started pulling out a pan or two, due to your draconic nature he knew you'd prefer something with meat. His final decision was spaghetti. You both are in silence,you sat glaring at him the whole time.

After you finished you were tempted to ask for more though that would show how weak you were. Hesitantly you sighed looking over to him without malice for the first time. " Could I get some warmer clothes please" you huffed through strained teeth . The food warmed you up but it wasn't enough.

He nodded, walking over to you and offering you a hand , you don't take it but you filed him. "My sibling enjoyed wearing a plethora of clothes , if anything is to your liking please wear it, I'll be outside the room if you need anything. "

You looked at his as he left , he was just allowing you food, and clothes. What the hell is wrong with him? It made your heart all fuzzy. It was nice being actually taken care of .you found yourself a pain for warmer clothes folding your clothes and holding them to your chest.

As you exited the room Scott was there just he said he'd be. Scott raised a brow smiling at what you wore

"You look good in that, how about we find you a room?" He states and you nod hesitantly. His intentions are unknown to you and you don't know if they intend to get worse

He leads you to the spare room smiling " Could I know your name, little one? " He asks only to be met with another glare form you as you settle into the room. "Fair enough" he states closing the door and giving you time.

You sigh as the doors closed. You set your things on a dresser then flop onto the the bed, you've never laid in a cozier bed. You have the room to spread your wings and get comfortable . It's amazing. You get cozy and soon enough you're falling asleep. For the first time in a very long time, you're letting your guard down. As you start to fall asleep, Scott walks into the room. He's holding a plate of cookies. He doesn't seem to mind the fact that you're starting to fall asleep. In fact, he places the cookies on a nearby dresser and gently places a hand in your hair. "Rest easy kid"*

You huff a small churrimg noise escaping by our lisp as Scott ruffles your hair "Y/N." You correct Scott . He spares youba confused glance before it hits him that that's your name .. honestly if he were going to continue to be this nice this could be the only exception you make for an adult. Just for him .

#x reader #x child reader #x dragon reader #dragon reader #dragon #minecraft #platonic #empires season 1 Scott #child reader #empires x child reader #empires x dragon reader #empires x reader #empires x reader #empiresblr #dsmp fic #empires fic

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stickytrigger69 · 1 year ago

Note

Could I request a mtmte/lost light Rodimus with a Cybertronian reader that has two spikes instead of just one? Rodimus doesn’t find out until the last minute or something

MTMTE Rodimus x GN Cybertronian Reader

Reader is gender neutral

Bot instead of mech or femme

Readers frame type, height, paint job, etc are unspecified

Reader has two spikes

NSFW minors DNI!

This was a cool one, had fun writing this one lol 🤭 hope it came out good

----------------------------------------------------------------

"So Rodimus," Drifts voice pulls the red mech from his thoughts, "How's the ritus stuff coming along?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's uh, yknow," He takes a sip of his drink, trying to play it cool, "it's coming." He shrugs and leans back in his seat, trying to look relaxed. One arm reaches up and rests on the back of the seat.

"Oh yeah?" Drift takes a drink from his own glass, a knowing smile etched onto his sharp face. "So, are they catching on or?"

"Yeah, yeah, they're in the know, I mean, I told them, and they're, well." Rodimus looks up from his glass and spots a familiar frame. Unique paint job and smooth armor plating, strong and well kept. His spark pulses with adoration, and he knows that Drift is giving him that look again, one that he picked up from Wing. The red mech chuckles to himself and shakes his helm, raising his glass to his derma. His eyes flick to the white mech sitting with him, and he is right, that old bolt munching grin that makes his chuckles evolve into laughter.

"Well?" Drifts tone is scandalous at best, an optic ridge raised skeptically as he prods at his red and orange companion who only shakes his head again and downs the rest of his drink.

"Well, it's none of your business." His glass hits the table with a clunk. His sharp friend laughs at him but drops it, knowing it's better to just leave him be and that even Rodimus gets bashful like any other bot. From his peripheral, he sees Whirl approach you and feels his tanks spin, his smile vanishing so fast that Drift worries for a moment and looks in your direction. As soon as the thin blue mech is in sight, Drift lets out another laugh, Whirl is one of your closer friends, and it bothers Rodimus so much that Drift can't help himself.

Ratchet finally shows up, though, and Drift excuses himself for just a moment, or so he says, leaving Rodimus on his own at the table to watch his intended be poked at by a pair of claws. Whirl is a rather extraordinary mech who doesn't seem to have much of an understanding of personal space and privacy, so Rodimus can only guess that the mech is asking less than savory questions. His suspicions and anxiety only increase when Whirl looks directly at him, waving a claw around, his orange optic changing shape every once in a while. You and Whirl had boarded the ship as strangers, but over time, that changed, and it changed drastically. Wherever you were, Whirl was sure to be close by. If either of you needed the other, they were suddenly present, and it actually made some of the other crew a little nervous. Including Rodimus.

Whirl's clingy and protective nature when it came to you is hardly much of a challenge though, he's been toughing it out pretty well so far, not allowing Whirl the benefit of the doubt. He won't let the Whirly bird intimidate him. He won't back down. Whirl does respect him for that, but like the pit is he going to stop trying to bully him down and away from his friend.

"But (designation), are you sure it's what you want? Look at him at his reputation. Damn, look at yours!" He shouts at you, arms waving around haphazardly before motioning to you.

"Yes, it is what I want, and I don't care about any of that either. I'm sure he wouldn't have started the ritus if he wasn't worried about it either." You argue.

"But (designation)," He leans toward you, optic squinted skeptically, "what if he's only doing it because of your reputation?" His inquisition makes you scoff.

"No one knows Whirl, no one except you." You take a small sip of your drink.

"You haven't told Ratchet either?" He points at the doctor standing at the bar. Is he really the only bot on this ship that knows?

"No, Whirl, so just drop it, would you." You slump down into your seat, watching the liquid swirl around in your glass. Whirl is silent for a while before perking up again.

"You already did the act of disclosure, though, right?" He asks at a fast pace, the question making you groan at him. Rodimus sees you're upset, and before he can stand up, Swerve comes up to him and strikes up conversation while he refills Rodimus' glass.

"What's it like performing the ritus? I know it's really none of my business, but I've never really experienced it myself, and I'm just a little curious about what it's like to devote yourself to someone and have them reciprocate." The little red mech asks curiously, though Rodimus would usually reply shortly to the little mech he takes in a deep breath and thinks about your smile when he started the first step in the ritual. He had started with an act of selflessness and kindness towards you, and you happily accepted and returned his kindness with your own.

"Well, Swerve, it's reassuring." He smiles at the mini who beams his own up at him.

"That sounds amazing, I hope I can find that someday. I hope I can find a bot I want to spend my life with, especially after we save cybertron. Have you almost completed the ritus? Oh, sorry, that's private-" He scrambles to apologize for overstepping his boundaries, but Rodimus can only chuckle.

"Yes, actually, all that's left is the Act of Imtimacy, and I'm waiting for them to initiate it." He looks back at your slouched form, no doubt pouting at the blue mech in front of you.

"Oh, that's nice, good luck, I wish for the best for the both of you." With another smile, Swerve leaves him to tend to the other patrons in his bar.

"Thanks." His voice barely above a whisper as he swirls his drink around in his glass.

"No, you're damned leaker, you're not going to finish the ritus. You're too scared." Whirl teases you.

"You want to bet?" You're upset, just what he wanted.

"Hahaha, not really, you have bad luck." He states smugly. Your mouth is agape, but you quickly recover. You only have one last thing to do, shouldnt be too hard. You've completed the Act of Disclosure or opening up about something extremely private, the Act of Profferance. You gave him a piece of memorabilia, something small from your past that meant the world to you. And the Act of Devotion, you have actually been continuously performing this Act, giving all you had to the dear mech, thus leaving the Act of Intimacy.

"Yeah, whatever." You sit up and turn to get up but then are met with uncertainty. Your brow ridge furrows, and you look at your glass of energy. You're feeling nervous when Whirl's claw clenches down on your shoulder to reassure you.

"I'm only going to say this once and never again." You wait patiently for him to continue, but he never says anything and just stands pulling you to your pedes. He spins you around and pushes you towards the captain. Rodimus sees you falling and immediately jumps up and reaches out for you. Servos connect, digits tangling together, and you are face to face with your soon-to-be conjunx. Both of you look to where Whirl had once been standing, the blue bot having quickly fled after throwing you across the room; again.

"Hi." Rodimus is looking at you, a sweet, suave smile on his face. His hot breath gently brushes your face, and you feel your frame heat up, face flushing as your innermost energon courses through your cheeks.

"H-hi." You stutter out, a dopey smile spreading on your face.

"You been drinking a lot?" He asks as his servo brushes against your cheek, his optics focusing in on your derma.

"No, not really. Just started honestly." Your cheeky reply makes his smile widen. He wants to play along and use the same tone with you, but he can't seem to move his derma. When did you get so close?

*thump thump*

His spark suddenly ignites and beats heavily in its chamber. Now it is his turn to flush, cheeks heating and optics blown wide. You're kissing him in front of everyone, no less. Your servo tightens around his, holding on for dear life, your field pulses slightly with anxiety. Rodimus smirks into the kiss. You're so cute, so timid. He loves it so so much that he sends out his own waves of love to soothe your anxiety. You are now, rightfully, conjunx endurae, and it's so overwhelming that you can feel your spark exploding with all of your emotions of yourself and Rodimus.

Everything after the first kiss has gone smoothly. You have taken your things, and he's taken his, and you've moved into a bigger room together. Things have been moving slowly in terms of physical affection, but Roddy doesn't mind it much. At least it wouldn't bother him at all if you'd just let him play with you the same way you do with him.

You give his spike and valve lots of attention, and as much as he enjoys it, he wants to make you feel good, too, but you always get nervous when his servo is anywhere near your panel. He almost thinks you don't really want to be with him and that you're only playing him, and it makes him worry. He starts thinking about it too much that he is sent to your hab earlier by Magnus, surprising and confusing you. He's upset, but he won't tell you why or anything, so you just hold him close to your chest and rub his back lovingly. And somehow, he just gets more frustrated.

He pushes you away and sits up to look down on you, a frown plastered on his face.

"Why?" He asks.

"What?" You're so confused.

"Why won't you let me in? Why can't you just let me see you?" You frown, mouth agape and confusion on your cute face, and it makes him more upset.

"Huh? Rod-" He starts burning up and interrupts you.

"You know what I mean! Don't play dumb with me! Why won't you let me have your spike or valve, or at least let me see!?" Your face starts to flush.

"I -" You start but are interrupted by an angry grunt as Rodimus grabs your waist with one servo and your tribulen with the other.

"What do I have to do to make you want this? Is this what I have to do?" He starts to push your tribulen up and to the side so he can move to sit in between your legs.

"Roddy!!" You exclaim, feeling nervous with the new position he has you in. You're at his mercy, and it kind of scares you but also excites you, and that starts freaking you out even more. He can't know, he isn't going to like it and it's horrifying.

"I can tell you're scared, but I also feel that you like it, you're eager. Did I have to take charge so you would want this?" He smirks, inching your pelvis closer and closer to one another. Your spark pounds against your chassis, and your cooling system boots up.

'Stop him!' You scold yourself.

The servo that was on your tribulen trails up to tease at your panel, and that is when you shoot up, accidentally headbutting him in the process.

"Ouch!" He cries and rubs his helm.

"Oh, I'm sorry," your face is so hot and dark with embarrassment, "I just, I can't! Roddy, we can't. I -"

"What?! Why not?! What's scaring you so badly?" He shouts at you at first but turns soft when he feels your field and sees your face. "Don't you trust me?"

Your breath is caught in your throat. You do trust him with your life, but this is. It's big. You're worried about what he'll think of you after you open yourself up to him and let down this last wall. Figuratively and literally. You think for a few, looking down, then back at him, back into his blue optics, such pretty blue optics. The ones that belong to the sweetest thing in the universe, the one who was pure and worthy enough of primehood. Coolant builds in your optics and you nod your head.

"I trust you so much." You mutter.

"Then let me." He smiles sweetly, his servo lightly touching your panel. All you can do is nod at him. His smile widens, and he leans in to give you a kiss before laying you back down. When he rises back up and sees you beneath him, his spark swells in its chamber. He gives you the courtesy to go slow and trade you a bit, thinking you're just nervous because you've never done this before. His digits skillfully rub and punch and explore your frame, hooking and digging blissfully into transformation seams and other sensitive crevices.

You let out a sweet whine when a digit presses against an inner cable hidden in your tribulen. The attention he's giving you feels so good, but you're scared of what kind of attention you'll receive when your panel slips away. You tense up a bit, and he coos at you, bringing a servo up to cup your cheek. You close your optics and take a deep breath. When you open your eyes, you allow your panel to open to him, and for a long moment, there is nothing. He doesn't move or make a sound, and you're ready to get up and get out before you see his face.

He is in awe, cheeks flushed, and no doubt hot to the touch. His servo hovers above your pelvis, hesitant to touch you. He looks up into your optics and makes you feel like hiding away from him. You put your servos up on your face, looking at him through the gaps between your digits.

"Primus." He whispers. "This is what you were hiding?" You close the gaps in your digits. "Frag..." He goes quiet. With a gasp, you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He has one spike in each of his servos. He lacks the tip of one and rubs circles on the underside of the other. He goes from one spike to the other, licking and sucking on them.

"Roddy." You whimper, and in turn, he sucks a spike all the way into his mouth and to the back of his throat. You throw your helm back, and one of his servos rubs up your torso to push down on your chest. Your spike leaves his mouth with a lewd pop, and he sits up on his knees to hover above you.

"Primus, I think you're beautiful. Thank you for sharing with me." A smirk paints his face while a servo still lingers on your spikes, trying to hold both in the same servo. "You think with some practice I'd be able to take them both at the same time?" You groan at the thought, face darkening and heating up. Your optics are locked in a stare. He can feel you relax through your EM field. He rubs the head of one of them against his valve folds and his anterior node. The tip teases his hole, and he groans before he starts to lower himself on it. The biolights and ridges rubbing against and filling him up perfectly.

When he finally takes you all the way in, he can feel the tip of your spike prodding at his interior node. With a shudder, he starts lifting himself back up only to lower himself back down. Your spike feels so good. In no time, he's bouncing vigorously on your spike. The other rubbing against his aft stimulating you both even more. Rodimus feels like he can't take it, you feel so good, and the noises you're making just add to it.

"I love you, (designation), I love you so much." He whines. You are so smitten by him. He looks beautiful from this angle, and how tight his valve is around your spike is driving you crazy.

"I, I love you. I love you so much." Your servos hold his hips, and you start to buck up into him. With every thrust upward, you use more power, hitting his interior node each time.

"Oh, yes, please, (designation), frag me good!" Rodimus cries. His begging spurs you on and makes you thrust harder and faster. You are driving him crazy. You really know how to use your spike. It doesn't take very long for him to cry out, overloading on your spike, mesh walls constricting around your spike as he rides it out. A few grinds of his hips and you're overloading too. Spike filling him up and the other spurting on his lower back.

"Scrap, shoulda had one in front of me instead, coulda caught some 'o that." He sticks his glossa out, making you chuckle.

"Oh, really now?" Your tone is playful.

"Hehe, yeah, actually." He lifts himself up, transfluid spilling from his valve. "Frag, you've made me a mess," His servo swoops down, digits gathering the fluids, "you up for round two?"

"Oh, um, well." You chuckle nervously.

"I want your valve this time. See how much of a mess you can make on yourself." He leans down to peck your derma. "Your plating's already outta the way," His digits covered in your fluids rub against your own valve, "whatta ya say?" With a moan, you nod.

"Atta boy!" He exclaims, spreading your tribulen apart. You feel like you probably should have told him the truth sooner.

#transformers #tf #tf mtmte #maccadam #macaddam #macadam #cybertronian reader #gn reader #gn cybertronian reader #reader insert #male reader #valveplug

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krakenbait · 7 months ago

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bragging rights bracket update #1

hello bracketeers!

it's the moment you've all been waiting for, i'm bringing you the first round of commentary & roasts for the 2024 bragging rights bracket challenge! apparently i'm coming into this one with high expectations, so here's hoping y'all still find me funny.

last night the rangers completed their sweep of the caps, which was quite unfortunate for all caps fans and rags haters. i know washington was awful this season, but i was really hoping they'd steal at least one game! oh well...

standings & jokes are under the cut. please let me know which bracket is yours if i don't know it and/or guessed incorrectly.

13 points

win for quinn - look what you've done! you've taken a perfectly good quinn hughes and given him the captaincy and more trauma!

amelidek's bracket 1 - i hope your bracket falls victim to the presidents trophy curse

please happen ( @builthebobder) - edit: i initially made a joke about AJ finally making it out of the league basement but i forgot he won in 2021 😂

10 points

Pizza Rats (aokayinspace) - i would genuinely hate to see a rangers vs vgk final. rancid vibes.

ABEJA-author-abz's bracket 1 - avs vs. panthers meanwhile would be hella fun

Rats! (aaaahwhoah) ( @circle--of--confusion) - "rats!" is what you'll be exclaiming when the avs eliminate the jets next game

Do It For JEdwards ( @patron-saint-of-boston-hockey) - i think the colorful commentator would have some choice words for your choices

t-birds for the win ( @shea-theodore) - i didn't need to work hard to guess whose bracket this was, cass.

Le $$ Beans ( @stromesquad) - i feel so bad for dylan strome, i was really pulling for him and the caps

eldest daughter w ( @puck--off) - rangers suck.

0 points

Been Bragging ( @natashastarkk) - poor start for last year's winner

hellybracket ( @arsonandhockey) - i'm calling it now, corwin's bracket is going to be the first to bust.

homer like the iliad (me) - i just realized my conference final teams are all primarily warm colors (red, burgundy, orange)

brack that et ( @nastybastian) - that's what she said

@andreisvechnikov's bracket 1 - if the canes don't succeed this year i think a lot of folks are gonna have a lot of questions

kindanerdy's bracket 1 - i'm concerned about your choice of oilers-bolts for the finals, but the jersey match up would be epic

jt's kombucha tap ( @assistantcaptainmitchmarner) - preds for the cup? might've been drinking a bit too much kombucha

#bragging rights bracket challenge #brag-cket updates #scp24

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aprilbrowines · 2 months ago

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Scp erased chapter 9: MTF Alpha-13 vs. Scp-682

Summary: The unofficial mobile task force Alpha-13 (Lost boys) look for the destructive scp-682, unfortunately it found them.

Inside the armored van, Giovanni and his MTF crew the lost boys were being debriefed on the dangerous anomalies they were about to face.

“So 682 is a giant reptile?”

“It’s not just a giant reptile, it’s a misanthropic reptile who’s hard to destroy.” Dr. Clef explains “We’ve been trying to kill it for years but its adaptability and mutations have made it a challenge. Giovanni’s eyes widened in awe.

“Woah…that’s so cool.”

“That’s terrifying, which is why we have to…”

Before he could finish his sentence the van swerved to avoid an incoming fire hydrate flying toward them, in front of them was scp-682 causing chaos and destruction. People ran away in fear as it swung its tail in defense.

“Get ready you guys!” Clef said as the van stopped in front of the monster. The lost boys and Percy popped out of the van facing scp-682, the beast growling at the pathetic humans. Percy summons a wizard tower aiming her sword at the reptile as lighting shoots toward 682, its flesh burned as it absorbs the electricity.

It started to glow taking in more of the electricity until it opened its maw and blasted a powerful lighting blast at the group, they jumped out of the way of the attack. 682’s fur crackled with static as it charged up for another attack.

“What do we do!? WHAT DO WE DO?!” Ben said, panicking

Giovanni rips the knife off the bat and hits it at 682’s eye, oozing blood and aqueous humor as it pierces the sclera. Roaring in pain it rushes towards Giovanni as he runs from the monster.

His heart was beating a hundred miles an hour, dodging lightning bolts left and right. Just as 682 was on Giovanni’s tail Crusher threw a trash can at it, letting Giovanni escape.

“Disgusting humans.” 682 growls, seeing the group scatter.

Wings sprouted from its back as it flew upward into the sky, getting a bird’s eye view. It chases down Giovanni and the lost boys like a hawk. Spike and Crusher were shooting at the reptile who was dodging the bullets left and right. Percival king was holding Molly close to her body.

“We need to neutralize 682 and get it back to the site!” Dr. Clef said, shooting at the beast.

“How?!”

682 landed in front of Percy, Molly, and Dr. Bright. It eyed the trio with the desire to rip them apart, Percy placed Molly behind her as she brandished her sword while Bright used a chainsaw. They both lunge at the monster, Percy swinging her sword at the 682’s tail who started to fight back.

As the two adults fight tooth and nail with the misanthropic monster, Molly tries to crawl away. 682 noticed this and threw them off before grabbing Molly by the scruff of her bear hoodie.

“Ms. Blyndeff!”

“Molly!”

The girl stares at 682 in horror. She tried to wiggle out of its grasp but it was too strong, as it opened its mouth wide to bite down on her skull Molly closed her eyes as she used her epithet. She braced herself for the painful demise…but it didn’t come, instead a droplet of drool landed on her as 682 was dazed in a stupor, mouth still open.

“Miss Blyndeff!” Percy said, grabbing the young sprog away from danger “Are you all right?”

“What…did you do to scp-682?” Dr. Bright asks, getting in front of the reptile. He snapped his fingers in 682’s face but it didn’t even flinch.

“I used my epithet on it,” Molly said “I didn’t think it would work but…i guess it did.”

Percy holds her too closely, too tightly, but Molly doesn't mind. Jack called for Clef to contain 682 as it stood there. Pondering for a moment a grinch-like grin grew on his face as he thought of an idea.

“Hey Molls, can I ask you a favor?”

— Giovanni, Dr. Clef, and the lost boys ran to the location where scp-682 was, as the group came they were stared down by 682. He raises his shotgun but before he could get a shot in, the reptile pounces on him, tails swaying left and right.

Giovanni closed his eyes as his boys had looks of terror on their faces. But instead of the sounds of bone snapping and visceral demise it was more sloppy and wet. Opening his eyes they all saw the monstrous lizard licking dr. Clef’s face like that of a dog welcoming their master back home.

“Gah get off me!” Clef growls trying to push 682 off but to no avail.

Suddenly they hear laughter as they look to see Jack bright laughing, wiping a stray tear from his eye. Molly and Percy were with him safe and sound.

“Oh man, I didn’t think it would work but it did.” He said, taking a few pictures of the scene. Giovanni hugs Molly tightly.

“Bear trap, what happened?” Giovanni asked “I thought that 682 was a killing machine!”

“It was,” Molly replied “That is until I used my epithet on it.”

He looked at Dr. Bright, playing with a dull minded 682 who barked excitedly. The reptile jumped up and down, wagging its tail.

As 682 was being driven back to site 19, The lost boys celebrated looking at the coordinates to the next anomaly. From a rooftop afar a familiar face noticed the scene from below and with a smile she tells her boss about the discovery.

#epithet erased #scp erased #scp foundation #crossover #fanfiction

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