#the tenderness of humanity makes my heart bleed

[jojotier]

"Here is an account of all my posterity, 6 sons and 3 daughters, 20 grandson and 20 granddaughters, 58 in all. 33 are gone before me. I hope I shall meet them all at Christ's right hand among his sheep and lambs. I often look over this list with sorrow."

Elizabeth Appleton, Ipswitch, 1736

"... to take the young ones up into his wearied arms... you may behold as in a glass, his tender care and love to you every one as you grow up; I can safely say, that his love was so to you all, that I cannot say which is the child he doth love the best."

Sarah Goodhue, Ipswitch, 1681

the book mentions a bit about the historical theory that parents didn't love their children as much as they do now and highkey i wish it went more into it and the evidence against it, because these historical accounts of parents talking about their children always Gets Me

[awxcoffeexno]

giving him a reason

logan howlett x human!reader

fic masterlist

summary: you've been on the run from the yakuza and are taking refuge in an old, forgotten family home. logan's been protecting you this whole while because that's just who logan is.

content: i've lifted the setting straight from the wolverine (2013). reader is taking mariko's place--reader is mariko, mariko is reader (no names are taken tho). lovemaking ensues. this fic is super tender and gentle because bitches need to remember how tender and gentle logan really is (i'm bitches). this is porn with no plot lolol. f!reader.

warnings: extremely 18+ content. MDNI. i'll kill u if you do. tender love making, logan goes down on reader like a champ, piv, reader is a virgin but logan's vvvvvvvvv gentle and caring, there's hardly any talking but there is proper consent taking, logan just wants to take care of reader, all is good in the world (at least for now), and logan's lost his healing powers so several mentions of him having bullet wounds.

word count: 3k (oops? might've gotten a teeny tiny bit carried away)

a/n: back at it again, but publishing my first nsfw fic, praying y'all don't hate me. if you don't like this, istg the nsfw version of claw worship is NEVER seeing light of day.

you hear him groan behind the door and the sound makes your heart catch.

you and logan have been on your feet all day, save for the train ride to the small village in nagasaki you've finally reached. running from the yakuza had decidedly not been your plan for the day after your grandfather's funeral but what choice did you have in coming here really?

not to mention... logan saved your life yesterday. several times. he was shot seven times per what the doctor told you.

and he is not healing. your grandfather told you that kuzuri had exceptional healing powers. he'd told you this several times. but logan is not healing at all and it makes you tic. he'd told you that this was the doing of your grandfather's doctor. you cannot imagine the agony he must be in.

you've never done well with seeing or hearing people in pain. yukio always suspected you had some type of emotionally perceptive powers but you don't think so. you just have an inherent need to help and that's that.

carefully, hopefully noiselessly, you slide the door to the bedroom open and though he has his back to the door, his neck is already craning towards you. apparently whatever that doctor lady did to take his healing powers did not dull his hearing.

he's standing shirtless, feet shoulder width apart to keep his balance, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat.

"may i see?" you ask and he takes a long, deep breath.

you stand in silence, at first waiting for him to decide and then watching him turn around, bloodied black shirt in hand and an uneasy vulnerability in his eyes.

his stitches look mostly in place apart from the ones on the wound on his abdomen that have started to bleed. you pad over and reach a steady hand out to touch gingerly around the wound.

logan's jaw tightens but he lets you examine him, his breath warm on your face.

he's burning hot and it would be startling but he'd explained yesterday that it's normal for him. his fever had started when he was 9 and it never broke. so you ignore the unnatural temperature of his skin and step away to find him a cloth and some hot water to clean himself with.

when you return, however, he has clearly already showered and is trying to tie a dark kimono on. you have no idea where he found it and his efforts on keeping it in place force you to bite back a smile.

"let me." you offer, putting the contents of your hand aside to help him.

he immediately pulls his hands away in defeat and you find yourself barely an inch away from him yet again. his breath on you makes your toes curl this time. there's something different about his stance, something... more inviting.

"you need this tied like a proper samurai," you explain as you work on the obi.

there's a moment of silence, the pitter pattering of the rain comforting in the silence. he's thinking, you realise.

"your grandfather called me a ronin." his voice is low. tentative. "a samurai without a master. he said i was destined to live forever... with no reason to live."

that's probably the most you've heard him speak.

you swallow thickly. "was he right?"

"yes," he says, voice laced with such melancholy, it makes you ache.

he has taken seven bullets for you knowing he isn't healing. dodged perhaps a hundred more whilst protecting you.

you remember how he'd stood directly in an open doorway in front of a gun-wielding yakuza man to distract him so that you could run. you'll never forget the sound of those bullets hitting his metal skeleton. like nails on a chalkboard.

he'd put his life on the line for you over and over and over again.

aren't you reason enough then? haven't you become reason enough? after everything you've both been through? together?

you muster up all the courage you can and stuff it into one word. "still?"

your eyes dart up to his for a flash before coming back down to finish up. you pull your hands away but... but after the two dreadfully long days that you both have spent together... after seeing him fight to so furiously to keep you safe the way he did... after everything, you simply cannot bear the thought of stepping back.

neither can he apparently because one of his large, warm paws comes up and cups your cheek, ever so slowly pulling you into a kiss.

something about you has been haunting him since he first looked into your eyes three days ago at your family home in the suburbs of tokyo. especially after you, like a goddamned fool, tried to jump off the roof. he cannot pretend to understand why he's been so taken with you but he knows if he hadn't stopped you from jumping that day, another part of him would've died.

he supposes it's something about the saddest eyes on some of the most beautiful women ever that draw him to them. first kayla, then jean, and now... you. and that's only in the last half-century.

so he kisses you, warm and gentle and desperate to comfort. he kisses you like that until you mewl into his mouth, soft and needy. and then his own need shifts.

still careful to be gentle, his hands slip into your hair to hold the back of your neck to angle you better for himself. he's a tall man and leaning too far down is causing him pain he isn't very used to.

you feel so small in his hold, his hand wrapped around the entirety of the back of your neck, fingers resting under your ears, soothing your tingling skin.

pulling away a little, you run a thumb across his cheek. a small, very small smile spreads across his lips.

"hey." he says, voice low and soft, making you blush.

this should feel wrong. he's the kuzuri your grandfather told you bedtime stories about. the kuzuri whose bravery and determination gave you the strength to also face your nightmares as a little girl. you shouldn't be doing this.

but maybe that's why it feels right. you feel safe around him. truly and wholly safe; something not harada or even your own father has ever made you feel. you've known this kuzuri your whole life and you know he'll protect you.

you don't even bother thinking about how you're engaged to noburo. no, you've heard enough whispers about him sleeping with other women after your engagement to him. it doesn't faze you in the slightest.

so you kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his smile. you feel one of his hands run down your back, coming to a stop right atop the bow of your obi, sending a shiver of thrill down your spine.

you've never felt this excitement before. you and harada had never gotten this far and noburo... well, something about his predator like advances made you want to throw up, so you never even let him this close.

but here you are, in the arms of kuzuri, a literal predator, and you feel... warm. nice.

he looks at you, brows dipping in an ask for consent. when you nod, sucking your lip between your teeth, he yanks the obi open and gently slips your kimono off one shoulder.

your soft, smooth skin makes him bite back a primal growl. he'd hate to scare you off, but standing here in front of him in the glow of the moonlight, you look so edible.

leaning in, making your tummy do a backflip, he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder. it makes you squeak and hold onto him tighter lest your knees betray you.

"logan!" you whisper with a gasp, feeling his teeth sink in and your feet leave the ground as he scoops you into his arms and takes you to the mattress in the middle of the room.

carefully, he kneels onto the floor and sets you down, his movement so light and tender it makes your heart ache.

pressing another kiss to your throat and then your mouth, he moves to place himself onto the mattress, between your legs.

you look at him with such big doe eyes, he cannot help but bring your hands together and press a soft kiss in the middle of your palms.

he then moves to undo your kimono like a wrapped present and take you in fully.

you're beautiful. the moonlight makes you shine, so perfectly womanly and delicate in his gaze.

reverently, he bends forward, right hand wrapping around your left thigh and pulling your legs apart so he can finally claim you with his mouth. his wounds ache for relief, the position actual torture but he barely even notices, so taken he is by your presence.

you push a lithe hand into his hair when you first feel his tongue, tugging as your hips arch up and you cry out his name.

"logan, god–"

he smiles into your mound, not having expected such a reaction this quick, but it only makes sense. you've both been so wound up after everything, you obviously need this.

"i know, princess," he coos as he licks a stripe across your leaking pussy all the way up to your clit.

he brings his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucks experimentally and he's forced to hold your hips down when you moan out loud again. he was not expecting you to be loud in bed but he sees absolutely no reason to complain.

his tongue works on you expertly, undoing you with every lick and stroke and bite and suck. his fingers squeeze into your sides painfully hard, so badly wanting to mark you as his. he runs his hands down to your thighs and gently pulls them around his neck, sitting up to relieve the pain in his wounds, pulling you up with him.

"lo–"

"i've got you, you're okay," he reassures immediately, making your tummy flip again. he's so so so gentle and it kills you to have seen him as nothing but a brute until you reached the village.

his mouth continues to perform its delicious hot magic on your nerves as your eyes roll back in your head and you unconsciously reach up for one of your bared breasts. he freezes when he notices your movement, distracted like a cat having heard a mouse scampering across a field.

your eyes fly open to finding him watching your movements with a dark and hungry lust.

"don't stop," he urges and though his voice is strained, it isn't unkind. if anything, it almost sounds pleading.

how can you possibly deny him that? especially when he says it in that voice, looking at you with that expression.

so you continue, cupping a handful of your breast and squeezing gently, making yourself moan. he groans into your heat and buries his mouth back against your pussy, eyes never leaving your hands.

he continues his good work, watching you like a hawk as you knead your breasts, biting your lip. carefully, you circle your finger around one nipple as he sucks on your clit again.

you lose yourself to it, the rhythm of playing with yourself, the beautiful way it harmonises with his mouth, it's all so delicious. just like that, you feel yourself winding up, up, up...

"c'mon, princess," he encourages, "let go for me."

and you fall. fast and slow, all at once, right over the edge. you fall and fall and fall, and he continues to do the wicked thing with his tongue around your clit, lapping at your pussy and you give your everything to him.

he works you through it, moaning your name softly, his hands bruising your thighs until you slump in his hold. gently pulling your legs off his shoulders, he sets you down and crawls over you.

his hands come to rest on either side of your head and the warmth is so inviting, the scent of tobacco and his earthy musk filling your senses.

"can you give me another, angel?" he asks, kissing you right on the mouth so that you can taste yourself on his tongue; heaven, the mix of his need and your release tastes like heaven.

you shake your head no, too overstimulated but he's already working his way down to your breasts, leaving wet, hot kisses in his wake. and when he gets to one nipple and sucks it into his mouth with a soft groan, it sparks the fire right back up in your core.

"watching you play with yourself..." he murmurs, trailing off as he licks a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts before looking up at you.

the look in his eyes and his unrelenting mouth make you whine. "logan... need you."

that makes him smirk. how quickly he's worked you out.

"yeah? don't worry, babygirl," and he's spreading your legs apart again, "i'll take care of you."

he pulls the kimono off himself so quickly, you suspect it might have something to do with the claws that retract into his hand. you didn't even realise when he took them out.

he's... glorious. every muscle in his body is taut and stretched across his body like a work of art. his tan skin is dusted with hair so fine it makes your mouth water.

your eyes cross his pecs, his wounds, his bruises, lower and lower until... fuck. he's... big. big and so red, surely it must be painful.

he brings a hand up to your face and you think he's going to cover your mouth but he simply says, "lick."

you oblige shyly, savouring the salt of his skin. he pulls it away, spitting and then wrapping his surprisingly long and thick fingers around his cock. he runs it up and down the length, watching you with such intensity, it makes you blush as he positions himself in front of your opening and you bite your lip, looking up as he crowds you again.

you feel him push into you and within seconds, he's already stretching you open so wide it makes you grab the pillow behind your head in desperation.

he stills, gauging you. he knows this feeling. he's felt it in other women before; the squeezing of walls so tight there could only be one explanation. you're a virgin. shit, he needs to be careful.

rubbing your thighs with both hands, he gently and carefully pushes in just a little bit more.

"never done this before?" he asks, leaning down to press the softest kiss to your lips.

of course he's right. you have no idea how he knows but it makes you redden that he's caught onto your inexperience. are you making it that obvious? oh god, are you not making this good for him?!

immediately noticing your agitation, he pulls all the way out and kisses you again.

"easy... easy," he says, stroking your hair away from your face. "just gotta relax."

his voice is so even, so warm and soothing, that you cannot help but nod.

"good girl," he smiles encouragingly, once again positioning himself at your entrance.

he pushes in again and this time it's easier. you aren't quite so wound up and he slides in smoother because he's already made you adequately wet. still, he goes slowly, making sure it is good for you.

until you realise he's going too slow.

"lo–" you gasp, voice more a squeak than you'd like. "more– need more, please..."

around anyone else you'd feel pathetic. begging for something so filthy, so raw. but with logan, it's so comfortable. knowing he'll give you anything you ask for, even if you've known each other only half a week.

so he pushes himself completely into you, and he's so fucking big, so fucking much inside you as he whispers words of encouragement into your ears, kissing and biting at your neck. the ache of the stretching almost immediately gives way to a sharp pleasure that shoots through you straight from his tip and into every last nerve in your body.

it makes you wrap both hands around him, needing so desperately to be as close to him as possible.

you initiate the kiss this time as he starts moving in you. you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his, making him groan. the sound is so delicious, you roll your hips to cause it again. his hands grasp your waist, steading you, moaning your name around your tongue.

one of his hands comes up to grab the back of your neck again, taking charge of the kiss as he starts thrusting into you with more vigour.

you cannot imagine a better feeling than being right here. being held by him, being kissed by him, and being filled by him.

tentatively, you squeeze around him, realising you're reaching another orgasm quickly. he growls into your mouth at that, picking up further speed. it makes your hips buck and you're skin feel like it's on fire.

"logan, i'm... i'm..."

"me too, angel," he grunts.

and with one final thrust he presses all the way intp you, making you cry out as you come undone again. he snarls your name, a man possessed, the squeezing and fluttering of your walls pushing him over his own edge.

he fills you up, forehead coming down to rest against yours. he pants softly, never having felt tired like this before. but he realises... he doesnt mind it so much, not when he's tired because he got to make love to you.

you kiss him sweetly, breaking him out of his thoughts and he smiles at you.

"so beautiful," he murmurs, pulling out of you and lying down next to you.

he tugs you onto his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

"logan?" you say, so spent your eyes are already drooping.

"hmm?"

"still?" you say and he realises you're repeating his question from earlier.

he hugs you tightly at that, wrapping his arms around you, warm and possessive.

"no. i don't think so."

--

wrote this at 6 in the morning before work so if there's errors, it's not my fault :))))

ik everyone hates the 2013 movie but i rewatched it recently and i remembered every last line. fuck me it's soooooo good.

really hope u like it tho.

love, d <3

--

retroactively tagging @techwrecker for being a cutie in the comments in all my other fics 🙂‍↔️

[benkeibear]

『 Tentacles 』

☼ synopsis: Mahito loves to experiment on you simply because you let him - loving how he pushes past your limits and pleasures you beyond belief.

☼ character: Mahito

☼ wc: 2.6k

☼ cw: DARK CONTENT! fem!reader, afab!reader, sub!reader, slapping, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bondage, tentacles, choking, throat fucking, spitting, humiliation, degradation, penetration with tentacles, anal, overstimulation, womb fucking, squirting

☼ notes: I'm bringing this cursed piece back because I miss my skrunkly rat 🫡

Mahitos eyes went wide when he saw the way you were looking right at him instead of through him like everyone else. He knew right that moment that you will be his, if you want to or not so he gave you a silly grin while waving at you. Talking to him was so easy, he would always have interesting topics to discuss for hours as time flew by whenever you two hung out, always listening to you, always agreeing with you without making it too obvious but before you knew it you were craving his company. You fell so hopelessly in love with the man who did nothing but sweet talk you, luring you in and giving you a sense of being heard and seen along with this false sense of security - his plan worked. He's not a master of manipulation for nothing, not even surprised that you were seeking out his attention all the time, almost addicted to it like a lost puppy.

The fact that he wasn't human didn't even surprise you when he broke the news to you, already aware that he was a little different from your average man but you never once minded, finding it quite appealing actually. Mahito’s lighthearted attitude along with his dumb jokes never failed to make you smile, always pushing you to your limits or having you be the butt of the jokes. It was playful banter to you, an experiment of how far he can take it for him. Testing you… you were never more than just an experiment to him, while you called him your boyfriend in such a loving way it always amused him. Your giggles lit up his heart but he wouldn't admit it, blaming it on everything but you. He's a curse after all, made out of hatred… he can't love.

It was just a question of time until he took these little experiments into the bedroom though and before you knew it, you found yourself pushed far past your limits but his sweet encouragement in your ears made it bearable. “You're taking me so well. Just a little bit more, cupcake” he chuckled and rubbed little circles on your clit to distract you from the almost unbearable pain he caused with his slaps to your thighs and ass - skin painfully sore to the point where it's bleeding. But you were his good girl, his perfect little human, you didn't want to disappoint him so you took everything he had to give despite your cheeks being stained with tears. Seeing you this broken, eyes all red and puffy from crying and far out of your comfort zone got him hard like nothing else, knowing he had you in the palm of his hand like a little puppet he can control made him feel invincible. The orgasm that followed was earth shattering, little slaps to your over sensitive clit gave you a high like never before after getting edged for hours on end, drooling on yourself and the bed beneath from the exhaustion and barely noticing how Mahito cleaned you up with utmost care, bandaging the wounds he caused before kissing each of them. “Can't have you breaking from this… you did so well for me” he praised while wrapping you in a fuzzy blanket and cupping your cheek to prevent you from moving while he kissed your forehead with a tender kiss. The collar around your neck jingled when you moved to cuddle up to the curse, a tired smile spreading over your lips at the reminder that you're his and he is yours - your name carved into his soul and there to remain.

You didn't need to know that even if you ever used the safeword, he wouldn't stop. It just existed to give you this false sense of security but worry not, he would never quite literally split you in half. Mahito was so much sweeter with you than with any of his experiments before, adoring you for the way you wanted his love so badly, how you humiliated yourself just to get some words of praise from him. All you were to him was a little project to study humans on, liking to see your reactions to various things and how you seemed to mind it less whenever he encourages you, how the unbearable pain suddenly became bearable with simple praise never failed to make him laugh, how desperate you cling onto his words to guide you out of it and towards your sweet reward for being such a good little human to him. He could own you and you would thank him for it, making him feel like a god.

This was your mistake - trusting him to never take it too far, that he's doing this for your pleasure rather for his curiosity but this mistake is what made you end up in this delicate situation. Your hands were tied behind your back, a spreader bar preventing your legs from closing as Mahito manhandled you onto all fours, a sickenly sweet smile on his face when you just let him move you the way he desired, not thinking much of this since he does this a lot. Your eyes locked for a moment while he caressed your cheek with his hand until something changed…

You tried jerking your head away when you felt these cold and slimy appendages slither over your cheek instead of his beautiful slender fingers you loved to feel on your body. “Hold still now, bunny. You don't want to get hurt… or worse, now do you? He asked in a playful tone, letting his fingers - now tentacles slither over your face and neck. Tears started forming in your panicked eyes, the sensation of tentacles on your skin new and frightening when they slowly started choking you. Mahito was laughing menacingly as he watched a fresh wave of fear mixed with disgust wash over your face when one of the appendages slithered over your lips which you pressed into a thin line. “You need to open that little mouth of yours… or i might let them go through your nose” He hummed in amusement, proving his point by letting one of them move towards your Nostril. Your head was shaking violently from side to side, panic increasing as your tears streamed down your cheeks in thick streams now and he sighed, one tentacle pushing into your nostril to let your know he was serious while a look of disappointment started forming on his face - His once so obedient little human suddenly refused him.

Every single hair on your body was standing from the feeling which caused you to reluctantly open your mouth, the tentacle immediately removing itself from your nose and slithering over your lips, slowly ascending into your awaiting mouth. Your body was repulsed by it, gagging wildly at the salty taste the slime left behind on your poor tongue, making sure to rub itself all over your wet muscle so you had no other choice but to taste it. “Look at you, taking it like a good girl. Now close your pretty lips around it, treat it like my cock you love so much” He chuckled but it turned into a laugh when you were pleading him not to make you do this but Mahito wasn't asking you, he was demanding so you behaved like his good little human and did what he wanted, sucking on the tentacle as if its his cock. It took everything inside of you not to gag when you felt a second one slide into your mouth and down your throat, moans from your lover filling your ear when he saw how beautifully your throat was bulging from the intrusion until he decided you had enough, taking the tentacles out of your mouth and kissing you forceful, his tongue invading your mouth like the slimy tentacles did just seconds ago.

His face showed pure euphoria upon tasting your saliva mixed with the salty taste of his tentacles. His kiss distracted you from the way his other hand transformed now too, letting slender tentacles slither over your naked body that was at his mercy until you couldn't ignore the cold sensation anymore, crying out for him to stop but still not using your safeword, which would have been useless regardless. Mahito positioned himself behind you, your ass still propped in the air, your face now resting against the mattress. Wet tentacles slowly slithered over the globes of your ass and along your thigh, ultimately resting at your folds to pull them apart, giving your lover a perfect view of your pretty slit. “Look at you, little pet. Crying and screaming but your cunt is drenched” he mused, smirking at your miserable frame before spitting onto your core that was fully on display for him which made you whimper out of humiliation, feeling his saliva along with your juices slowly dribble down your thighs and staining the mattress beneath you. He was right - it felt disgusting and you wanted it to stop but at the same time it felt so good to be forced into submission by him, letting him do everything he wanted to your body. Unbeknownst to you, a moan slipped out of your lips when one of the tentacles slowly wound itself through your folds, missing every sensitive spot on purpose. This made Mahitos wolfish grin spread further, the tentacle stopping dead in its tracks, resting right next to your bundle of nerves. “What a naughty little thing you are, bunny. Enjoying this like a needy slut” He whispered the degradation in your ear before wiggling the slimy appendage over your clit in a barely there touch, making you cry out from the weird, yet intense sensation.

The way your juices mixed with the slime of the tentacle caressing your clit made it unbearable to you, whines and moans cascading out of your mouth in a desperate way, needing a little more to tumble over the edge than just the feather light touch but Mahito heard your prayers, the slimy appendage now adding more pressure to your sensitive clit, making your jaw slack with a silent scream. The wetness of it aided as lube, easily flicking over the nub until it had you screaming out loud in pleasure, the knot in your abdomen finally snapping and Mahito laughed at the mix of emotions on your face, pleasure and disgust when you realized just what gave you this mind blowing orgasm and that this would not be the end. Your fears were correct when you felt four tentacles play with your entrance, taking turns on slipping in the tiniest bit until two of them slithered in to spread your cunt open, opening you up for the third one. A scream escaped you, begging him to stop but it was only amusing him further, letting the tentacle grow in girth as it slowly pushed itself inside of you. You felt every nub inside of your walls and the way it wiggled inside you let you feel things you've never felt before. “There you go. Give up your little fight… accept the pleasure it brings” Mahito cooed, feeling the way you slowly stopped clenching around the tentacle, making it much easier

To slip it further inside of you, the two smaller ones which spread you open slowly joined the thicker one and stretching you further than you've ever experienced.

Your jaw hung wide open at this sensation, one tentacle pressing against your sweet spot as the other two rubbed against your walls and prodding at your cervix to give you pleasure. With your eyes closed you slowly allowed the sensations to make you feel good, another tentacle playing with your clit again had you whimpering for more, growing greedier by the minute. “Awh are three inside of you not enough?” your lover teased and slid another one back into your mouth to fuck your throat but this time you welcomed it, sucking on it like a pacifier. It muffled your moan when you felt another tentacle enter your stretched cunt, but there was no pain, the little appendage rubbing your nub made sure you're enjoying it all as two more sucked and pulled on your hardened nipples. Pure ecstasy spread through your body, moaning loudly around the tentacle in your mouth but your eyes shot wide open when you felt another small one massage the ring of muscles at your ass, slowly prodding into your puckered hole. “I can't believe you let a disgusting tentacle take your little anal virginity, aren't you disgusted by it? By yourself for feeling this much pleasure?” Mahito asked sinister as he pushed it further into your behind but you only shook your head - it didn't hurt and you the disgust was long gone. You knew he didn't mean it, he loved the way you were so eager to please him by letting him do everything to you, he would never shame you for feeling pleasure since that's exactly what he wanted, for his little experiment to discover new pleasure and the way you slowly succumb to it.

The torturous assault of tentacles lasted hours, your holes stretched and your poor body begging for a break from the continuous orgasms Mahito brought you with his newest experiment. “Give me one more and I'll let you rest” he cooed, pushing against your sweet spot repeatedly with a smaller tentacle as the thick one nestled itself into your womb, making you feel as full as never before. It was enough to have you screaming until your voice was hoarse and with a last flick against your clit he had you squirting all over the bed again, taking one tentacles after the other out of your abused cunt until only one remained on your clit along with the other inside of your behind. “I need to see you break, bunny. Think you can cum again just from this?” He asked, nibbling at your neck while one of the slimy appendages kept rubbing your clit as the other one thrusted into your puckered hole. Your head was shaking violently, overstimulated to the point where it started to be painful but you still didn't use the safe word and allowing him to continue with this torture until he had his fill from seeing you cum over and over just from the anal penetration until you passed out.

You don't know how long you were gone but your legs were aching, your holes sore which reminded you that this wasn't a nightmarish wet dream - it really happened and you felt like crying when Mahito pulled you closer into his arms. “Did we go too far today, my bunny? Does your tiny body need a break?” He cooed in a fake sympathy but you still appreciated his care, nuzzling your face into his chest to return to the safe space in his arms. You knew he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't, at least not physically. “You did so well for me today… such a good girl. My perfect little human” he whispered as he played with your hair, hoping you can fall asleep soon since he already cleaned you up while you were unconscious. Mahito may be a curse created out of hatred, unable to love but he felt something towards you, something that runs deeper than just his curiosity - your name was carved into his soul after all.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[sexyapostate]

Auntie Ethel's Race-Specific Vicious Mockeries

Because of this post by rpgchoices, I figured I'd compile all the other Vicious Mockery lines Auntiel Ethel can hit the player with. These don't include the origin companion specific ones. You can find those in the linked post.

DROW ELF

Filthy underscum!

Just another of Lolth's pretty harlots.

Slaver. Sadist. How dare you judge me?

DROW ELF (MALE)

Bare your throat, spider-bait.

Kneel, boy. Just like the matriarchs taught you to.

Bow to your betters, boy.

HALF-ELF DROW

Even the Underdark doesn't want you, half-breed.

Surprised you show yourself in public, abomination.

A half-drow? How grotesque.

DWARF

More beard than brains, the lot of you.

Bet you'd trade your friends for a trinket or two, gold-eater!

I'll squeeze that stone heart until it bleeds, dwarf.

DUERGAR DWARF

Bow your head, slave. You remember how, don't you?

Grey and useless as a stone comb.

Need a new master, illithid lover?

DRAGONBORN

Aww, where's your clan? Bet they'd exile you for that brainworm in a blink.

Bet that honour of yours shatters easy as your scales.

You foul-breathed little lizard!

GNOME

Disgusting burrow rat.

Bet your clan's happy you're gone!

Try laughing after I rip your throat out, gnome.

ELF 

Fancy yourself immortal? We'll see how long that lasts.

I'll show you what a true fey does, dearie.

Elves are so pretty. Pretty worthless!

HALF-ELF

I wonder which parent regrets you more, half-breed.

How revolting. Another thin-blooded mongrel. Half-elf. Half-human. All useless.

HUMAN

Another human rat infesting Faerûn.

A human! So desperate to be special.

Pity. That tadpole actually made you interesting.

HALFLING

No flabby dwarf's a threat to me.

Come closer, little softie. You'll be tender.

A tiny, sweet morsel. Just for me.

HALF-ORC

Come now, tusks-for-brains! Doesn't this make you angry?

All that bloodlust. A little tap, and I bet you won't know friend from foe!

Lumbering half-orc. Twice as ugly as your parents combined!

TIEFLING

I'll burn you alive and everyone will celebrate.

You're everyone's punching bag and no one's favourite.

I see the Hells spit out another tragic little tiefling.

These were included in the dialogue document and the races listed are exactly what's in the dialogue's trigger flags.

PLANAR (githyanki, warforged)

What kind of botched portal brought something like you here?

Are you lost, little one? Maybe your soul will make it back home.

I'll banish you for good, outsider!

RARE (aasimar, dragonborn, firbolg, genasi, githyanki, half-drow, half-orc, tiefling, triton, warforged, yuan-ti pureblood)

I'm one step closer to wiping your kind off Faerûn for good!

Freakish thing. I bet everyone stares when you walk by.

Not a lot like you. You'll be my prettiest trophy.

BEASTIAL (aarakocra, kenku, lizardfolk, tabaxi, tortle)

Think you're a person because you're walking on two feet? Adorable.

Can't wait to throw a collar on your neck and make you my familiar.

I'll tan your hide, beast!

BONUS: MINSC? FOR SOME REASON? I don't know why there seem to be unlabeled Minsc-specific Vicious Mockeries. Maybe Ethel played BG1/2 and just really hates him.

How quaint! The hamster has a pet.

Only evil here is what's inside you, ranger.

Go rub your rat, soft-skull.

[flametrashiraarchive]

hi! i wanted to ask if you’re able to write any nsfw douma head cannons? it’s totally okay if you’re not able to :^)

*punches the air with both fists*

YESSS!

I hope this is okay. There's a warning near the end because the last part is about menstruation and him being fond of it and yeah... maybe you don't want to read that.

NSFW under the cut. Also mild spoilers for Douma's canonical personality.

DOUMA x reader NSFW headcanons

He enjoys sex greatly as a prelude to dinner.

It helps tenderize the meat.

But he doesn't cum. Ever. The physical sensation is pleasant but empty.

Doesn't masturbate.

Until he meets you.

Douma has been complimented on his beauty all his life; it's expected at this point, but you're the first person he's met who compliments him with actions rather than words.

When you lean against him for comfort? When you ask how he's feeling when he's just sitting, staring into space? When you ask him to keep talking and discuss more than just mundane things??

Yes, he'll keep you around. You interest him.

You're also genuinely nice to him, and not for the promise of eternal paradise. You just... like him. He's not used to that.

When he confesses he's a demon and you just accept it? You don't scream and run away? You're his now.

People hunt and eat rabbits and keep bunnies as pets.

You're his soft little bunny and he so loves to play with you.

Will absolutely initiate tickle fights. Wins every time. (he's not even ticklish, he's just a menace.)

Kisses your nose when you're mad at him.

Fucks you against the wall (sometimes halfway up it)

He leaves marks every time you fuck.

Man's a biter.

Hickey king.

He wants everyone to know you're his. If you wear his marks proudly he'll pop a boner every time he sees you.

Coos over you when you get overstimulated. Finds it adorable and pretty funny when you're cockdrunk and fucked out.

Yes, you've fucked on that giant pillow he sits on for sermons.

Actually, you've fucked on every square inch of the temple.

Including the ceiling. it was your birthday, he wanted to make it special.

He is a big boy.

Likes when you sit in his lap and bounce on him. Puts his face in your tits and can't stop smiling.

Giggles when he makes you cum.

You discover together that he has very sensitive nipples. He whimpers the first time you flick one with your tongue.

HE FELT SOMETHING!!

"Do it again, pet..."

By the end of it he's a blushing mess. One more touch and he'll lose his mind. He needs... he needs...

He pulls you onto him, grips your hips and uses his strength to drive you up and down on him. You're his fleshlight now. He's done when he's done.

whimpers.

The first time he cums it's a jumpscare for him.

THAT'S WHAT IT FEELS LIKE?

I see I see... let's do it again.

From that day on it becomes about how much mess the pair of you can make.

One day it occurs to him that his heart flutters whenever you're near.

Wants to turn you into a demon so you can be with him for eternity. Gets off on you being his helpless little human pet... why must life be so cruel?

WARNING: go no further unless you're okay with sex and cunnilingus during menstruation

Oh my oh my. When you bleed he's a whole new level of feral.

He will live between your thighs that entire week just... lapping it up.

It's nutritious and it's you. He loves it.

Fucking lies there on his belly, kicking his feet and fingering you so he can lick his fingers clean.

"Orgasms help with cramps, pet." he bats his eyelashes and smiles like he's only doing this for your benefit.

Man's a menace.

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Benedict Bridgerton x pregnant wife!reader

A/N: I have received the following prompt: “Benedict Bridgerton with wife pregnant!reader. If any of Bridgerton's siblings had any problems, she was the first one they came to ask for advice even the oldest. All this attention was making Ben jealous as he was having less time with her. She told him that he would have to share her for the rest of his life before letting him know age was pregnant. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))” And I have tried to write it. It must be my first reader!insert romance story and it was so much fun. I hope you like what I have made of it. (~ 4650 words)

Benedict was grinning like a cheshire cat and you found it increasingly hard to refrain from tackling him to the ground to pepper his face with kisses. Expertly you were decorating his chestnut hair with flowers from the Bridgerton country home garden, the large rose bushes on either side of the alley leading up to the house shielding you from the sun. You were sitting in front of him cross-legged, the flowers gathered up in your lap. Benedict was facing you, his long legs stretched out in a way that his shins touched your hips. His hands were propped up in the grass behind his back and the sun was painting shimmering golden flecks on his head when the wind rustled through the leaves of the bushes.

Your husband looked deliciously delighted and nothing made you happier than seeing him that way. After one year of marital bliss, you’d decided to go to the country side with the rest of the Bridgerton family to spend the days in their presence and to enjoy the fresh air outside of London. A week before departing you had realized with heart-wrenching joy that your cycle was interrupted – you hadn’t bled when the time was due and had the very strong suspicion that a small version of yourself and Benedict was growing inside your belly. As nature sometimes tended to have its cruel way with humans, you had not yet mentioned it to your husband, fearing that the regular bleeding would merely commence one or two weeks late. But since your arrival, nothing had changed. The sheets remained unstained and your suspicion  transformed itself into something of a certainty. You tended to wake in the night and almost instinctively moved your hands to your belly, greeting the tiny human sprout with the warmth radiating from your palms. “Hello,” you’d started to whisper, “I hope it’s not too dark in there. Don’t worry, you are not alone.”

Now, as your husband was enjoying your melodic humming and the sweet smell of the flowers that caressed his hair, you felt inside of you a bubbling wish to lean forward and whisper the good news into his ear. The good news you’d barely managed to fully apprehend on your own. It was scary to reveal such a tender, fragile and unpredictable thing as a pregnancy. There was too much that could still go wrong, too much that still stood between you and the day of birth. Yet, looking at Benedict all calm and relaxed made you wish to comment on how you hoped your child’s eyes would be like his or how you could imagine him holding the small bundle to his chest, a little nose peeking out from white cloth.

You leaned over, closer towards him and moved your hand to the side of his face. His half-closed lids blinked open and his smile deepened when his gaze landed on your tender face.

“Am I positively in bloom now?”

You snickered and carefully brushed your fingertips over the petals behind his ear, making Benedict shiver ever so slightly. “Any young lady would envy you for such an exquisite coiffure!”

Narrowing his eyes, Benedict snarled at you, shaking his head and sending a few petals flying off onto the grass. “You’re lucky I had four younger sisters with a similar taste for dressing me up or I would have long taken off over the meadows!”

Biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely, you got on your knees in one swift motion to wrap your arms around your husband’s shoulders, bringing you faces closer together. “You wouldn’t even have taken off if I had brought a pair of scissors with me to experiment on your hair!”

He chuckled gently and moved an arm over the small of your back to pull you even closer. “It can’t possibly be a good thing that you are correct about this!”

His lips found yours and you melted into the kiss as if the sun had suddenly gotten strong enough to evaporate you. Smoothly you moved your chest over his torso, your hands following the outlines of his shoulders. He hummed into your mouth, his voice vibrating through your skin as your fingers found his face, where your thumbs started caressing the slightest hint of a stubble.

“Benedict,” you sighed, your smile mirrored on his lips, “I have something to-“

“(Y/N)!!” A shrill voice shouted from the front steps of the big country house. You were so surprised, you almost choked, your forehead knocking against your husband’s. Benedict grabbed your elbows to keep you from falling over, one eye closed against the pain of head-to-head contact.

“Oww,” he groaned, looking over his shoulder with faint annoyance. Hyacinth’ voice was easily discernible and lately, she’d managed to interrupt quite a few of your… get togethers.

“(Y/N), are you in the garden?!”  

Raising one hand to your forehead, you couldn’t keep from letting out a breathless laugh. “Ten minutes of peace were quite the luxury, I daresay.”

Benedict let out a sigh, but pulled the corners of his lips up in a little smile, when he saw the humour in your eyes. “Sooner or later, I am going to grab her and lock her in the closet!”

Comfortingly, you patted his chest, before moving your hand to his hair to straighten one crooked daisy. “She’d probably find that rather amusing.”

“Are you sure? She is so very … fourteen now!” Benedict said, an overly accentuated speck of fear concerning teenage-girlhood glinting in his eyes. “When the day comes that we have a fourteen year old daughter, you must help me make sure I never become the object of her wrath!”

Holding your breath, you turned to look at him in awe. Did he know? Had he already figured it out all by himself that you were pregnant? But no, his eyes merely showed signs of good-tempered amusement. He had not yet a clue, which made his comment all the more valuable to you. “I love you,” you stated with feeling and crashed your lips to his in such a surprising manner, that he almost fell over, which laced your kiss with his sweetest chuckles. Moving your face away, you hesitated for a second, gazing in his shining blue eyes, unsure whether you should tell him immediately.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his eyes twitching curiously. You bit down on your lip, enchanted by the way he could almost read your mind. The good news about possible upcoming parenthood would have to wait though. You wanted to tell him, when it was only the two of you.

“Perfectly so,” you therefore exclaimed, before bringing your hands to his chest to push him over for good. Quickly you rose to your feet to answer to Hyacinth’ incessant shouting, laughing at Benedict’s attempts to grab for your heels in retaliation.

“I am here!!” You sang, taking your skirts in your hands to take a few running steps in her direction. She did the same, meeting you halfway and wrapping her arms around your middle, asking to be coddled, while she was going on and on about how she needed your help with this one French book she was reading. You walked back to the house with her, a smile on your features and your arms around her smaller body, as you indulged in the fantasy of her being your daughter and of you being the mother she’d asked for counsel. You looked over your shoulder and saw that Benedict was watching you two. You couldn’t help but wonder whether he was imagining the exact same thing as you.

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

After two hours of translations and musings about the difficult French language, Benedict came barging into the study, looking at Hyacinth with a quarrelsome expression.

“Sister,” he growled in a rather menacing tone, “are you kidnapping my wife?”

Holding both your hands on the pages of the big book, you tilted your head in his direction with a meaningful grin. “Oh, you!”

But Hyacinth wasn’t the youngest Bridgerton for nothing. Defiantly she stood up from her chair and walked towards him in the middle of the room. “How dare you!! You didn’t even knock!!”

Benedict almost flinched, when she drilled an authoritative finger into his chest. With seven older siblings, there really wasn’t much that seemed to scare her. He opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted.

“I am in the midst of a very important lesson and I am fairly certain you still remember how to breathe without (Y/N)!! So!! Fare thee well!!”

It was incredibly hard for you not to burst into a small laughing fit with Benedict looking positively puzzled and his youngest sister intonating every single word as if there was an exclamation mark behind it. Yet, you managed to hide your smile behind your hand as you feigned a cough, which, judging by the way your husband looked at you, Benedict easily identified as an act. He narrowed his eyes and looked from you back to his sister who was still planted before him with a vigour unlike her size and age.

“Very well.” He eventually said; but it wasn’t without a lightness at the end of his phrase – one that was giving him away. Not only to you who had only known him for a short time compared to Hyacinth who had grown up with him. She gasped out “NO!” and wanted to take a step back, but Benedict had already grabbed her and thrown her over his shoulder.

“BENEDICT!!” She screeched, still sounding very childlike, despite wishing to appear much more adult at her tender age. “LET ME DOWN!!”

You looked on with a smile, chuckling at the way Benedict was trying to avoid kicking feet from hitting him in the face. “Do you really think you intimidate me, sister?”

Hyacinth’ squeals mixed with hysterical giggles, when Benedict managed to pin down the swinging legs and started tickling the backs of her knees and calves, her fists drumming against his back. “Dohohoohn’t!!” She giggled, all vigour gone from her sweet voice that sounded much more like the one of a child again.

“Will you release (Y/N) and continue your ‘very important lesson’ some other time?” He asked teasingly, a wide grin appearing on his features when Hyacinth’ mirthful sounds started resonating through the study.

“I WILL I WILL!!” She conceded hastily, her hands trying to grab the fabric of his waistcoat. “Don’t tickle!!”

With an approving noise, Benedict stilled his hands and bent over to plant his sister back on the floor. Groaning from the effort, he shook out his arms when he’d finally managed it. “You are getting too tall for this, aren’t you?” The seriousness in his voice combined with the way he cocked his head to the side in wonder had you throw your head back with a laugh.

Hyacinth put her hands on her hips and looked up at her brother with a pout. “I do definitely hope so!!” She sneered, before planting a fist in the crook of his stomach and quickly making her way to the door. A small smile was grazing her features, when she turned around again in the doorframe, directing her question to you. “We will continue our lessons, tomorrow, yes?”

“Of course, Hyacinth! We will make time for it!” You responded with a smile of your own, closing the book about French history and getting up from your chair to join your husband who was over-dramatically enacting an on-the-brink-of-death scene in the middle of the room, coughing and wrapping his arms around his middle.

“Internal bleeding! Internal bleeding!” He repeated hoarsely, making it impossible for Hyacinth not to break out into a laugh. “You’re so annoying!” She giggled, quickly bustling away, when he took a menacing step in her direction.

When the door fell close behind her, he dropped the act immediately and turned towards you with a sigh of relief. “Finally!”

You made a very undignified noise, when his hands grabbed for the fabric of your dress and pulled you towards him, your bodies colliding in an inelegant way, full of hunger and devotion. Giggling, you turned your head to the side, when his lips found your neck, kisses and nibbles sending ticklish jolts into your hairline. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

“It appears, I am overcome,” he mumbled into your skin, taking a deep breath from the sensitive skin under your ear, “by a very strong need to spend some… quality time alone with you!”

“Quality time?” Moving your hands up his back, you allowed him to lead you backwards into the study, your steps mirroring his own until you reached the table with the big French history book. Your eyelids fluttered shut at the warm touch of his lips to your cheeks.

“Mhhh,” he agreed, his nose circling your own and his lips grazing your mouth as he spoke, “the rare, special occasion is one I am very ambitious for!”

Smoothly, Benedict’s hands moved under your behind to lift you ever so slightly and place you on the table, the book shifting backwards, giving room to you. You moved your hands from his back to his cheeks, your hands cupping the face in front of you and holding it steady for the kiss you planted on its lips. Benedict smiled peacefully, his blue eyes sinking into yours. “I love my family dearly, dearly, dearly… but I need to have these moments with you alone, truly alone!”

The heart within your chest contracted for one beat, sending a slightly painful sting through your body. It was only a short moment, only one small hint of fear, but it sufficed to make you realize that you were scared Benedict might not actually be as thrilled as you were about the child blossoming in your belly. What if it was too early? What if Benedict still required, perhaps even hoped for some time without a family? What if he would be overwhelmed by a family that grew and grew and never seemed to allow you two any more time alone? You gulped and suddenly moved your hands back to his shoulders, holding on tightly.

Benedict seemed to notice that something was off, moving his head away from the side of your face to look you in the eyes. His gaze was soft and sweet and you wanted to drown in it, wanted to get lost in it as he moved his hands all over your body. But for now there was no more movement aside from his nose brushing against yours, a movement equal to a question.

“Are you alright?”

You realized you’d been holding your breath and took a deep one, before pushing your face into his as affectionately as you could. “I just want you,” you whispered, meaning it in every way possible, from head to toes, from now on to the end of your days, from his soul to his heart to every memory you’d make together. You wanted him. And every single part of him that grew through you. You could only hope that it would be the same way for him. “I want you so badly,” you continued, your voice almost hoarse from raw emotion which made his eyes flicker with a suddenly burning fire. Devotion radiated from his kiss adjoined to something that went deeper, something that was inexplicable and yet so strangely clear.

“You have me!” He growled into your neck, breathing your scent another time and kissing the vein running up your skin with an urgence. “You will have me! Entirely!”

You smiled against his cheek and moved your lips to his mouth to steal a kiss from its corner. That made him smile your favourite smile and suddenly you were lifted off of the table and carried towards the door. Moving your arms around his neck, you held on to him, running your eyes up and down his face to not miss a single sign of his happiness. You didn’t have to ask where he’d take you, knowing full well that he would tug you into the sheets of his bed, caressing your skin with his own and joining your bodies to become one. You wanted to be as close to him as possible, and afterwards you would tell him, afterwards you would try to find the right words and hope for a reaction that wouldn’t scare you. Right now, he was right, it would be just the two of you.

He opened the door… and ran into Anthony.

“Anthony!” He exclaimed in surprise, not yet considering to drop you which you found at the same time embarrassing and sweet. Trying to turn around in his embrace, you looked at Anthony over your shoulder, greeting him with a quite awkward “Hello!”

“Where have you two been, I was looking all over for you… wait, don’t answer that!” He waved his hand around in front of his chest, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly. “Though I do have to say, I’d like to know if the study should be er… cleaned!”

“Brother!!” Benedict groaned, his head dropping on your shoulder, the warmth from his reddened cheeks burning your skin.

Chuckling, you patted Benedict’s shoulder to signal you’d like to be let down. The muscles in his arms clenched from unwillingness, but he did indulge you and let you slide to a standing position.

You decided not to answer the last comment and simply tilted your head to the side expectantly, your unashamed smile making Anthony’s own grow. “What was it you needed from us?”

“Not I,” Anthony responded, his amusement at his brother’s unmistakable frustration quite obvious. “But our dear mother. She needs your opinions for the upcoming summer ball. Apparently Daphne and Kate would like you to join in on the preparations.”

Benedict groaned loudly. You tried not to send him a sympathetic glance and merely nodded at Anthony’s request, asking in return where you could find the other ladies.

“Don’t worry, brother!” Anthony consoled your husband, when you took his hand in a silent goodbye. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you after dinner. I know how hard it can be to find… some time alone.”

Benedict actually felt compelled to smile at his brother in gratitude, before sending you one more longing gaze. “I can’t wait.”

Then Anthony wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in one direction and the preparations for the ball pulled you in the other. During the time it took to walk to the ladies of the house, you couldn’t stop worrying about what Benedict’s reaction would be once you told him of the pregnancy after dinner.

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

Being at the table with the entire family always put Benedict into good spirits, no matter how much he’d longed for a moment alone with you throughout the day. He made faces at Daphne, poked Eloise into the side until she almost choked on a piece of bread, laughed at Colin’s jokes and exchanged warm glances with his mother. You were having lovely conversations with Kate and spoke some more to Hyacinth about her French. Everyone at the table tried to outdo Colin and his funny remarks, but no one quite was as good at it as he was and he seemed to be taking great pride in it.

Seeing Benedict interact with his family reassured you in a way you had not entirely realized you’d needed. Yes, you were both in great need of being close to each other in private. Yes, you were both enjoying it immensely, when no one interrupted your time together. But being at the table with everyone, conversing, joking, teasing and simply enjoying each other’s company was something Benedict would never have to ‘suffer’ through. Time spent with his family was time well spent and you could see in his face that he was more than content. e

It took away so much of the fear you’d felt throughout the day, the fear that he might not be happy about the news that you were with child. This was his world and he would be, you were very certain, delighted to have such a world of his own.

Kate and Anthony were the first to leave the table – in the dim candle light you couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like he was waggling his eyebrows at you – and after a while, you, Benedict, Daphne and Simon all decided to do the same, bidding your adieus from the family for the day and retiring to your chambers.

Benedict was in high spirits which was most likely due to the lovely evening and the prospect of finally being alone with you without fear of interruption. You suppressed a squeal, when he decided to chase you up the stairs, scooping you into his arms at the far end of the hallway that followed and banging open the door to your shared room with his shoulder. You giggled uncontrollably, when he kicked the door closed with his foot and practically ran towards the bed to throw you on the covers.

“I am going to jump out of the window if anyone dares interrupt us here and now!” He hissed humorously, taking off his waistcoat as quickly as he could and starting to work on his breeches.

Laughing cheerfully, you moved your hands in his direction, demanding him to get into the bed this instant. “Must you seriously be standing over there while getting undressed?”

“Where are my manners?” He gasped out in fake shock and all but dove into the sheets next to you, grabbing your waist and pulling you underneath him, drawing more silly laughter out from you when he pushed his face into the silk covering your belly. “Taking off clothes is almost as intrusive as my siblings! We will simply ignore them!!”

It was hard to speak through your laughter, but somehow you managed to grab a hold of his head and pulled it up towards you. “Ben, please, I must breathe! I must breathe!”

Grinning widely, he pushed his face against yours. “You should have to quit laughing for that first!”

It took a moment, but you did manage to calm your breathing, your arms wrapped around your husband who had his head propped up on one hand and was looking at you with a lazy smile. “Better?”

That almost made you burst out laughing again, but you managed to control yourself and instead grabbed him by the shoulders and changed positions, ending up on top of him. He huffed out in surprise, but his smile was big enough to light up the room, when he grabbed your thighs on either side of his hips.

“I feel deliciously trapped!”

“I have something to tell you!” You mused, searching for his hands with your own to interlock your fingers. Apparently you were in need of holding on to him while telling him what would come next. The pressure of his palms against your own quieted your mind and helped you focus on the matter at hand.

“Something you have to pin me down for?” He joked, his eyes widening with amusement. For you, his question brought back a small amount of dread and your smile fell ever so slightly.

“I… I hope not!” With hesitation you looked away, running your thumbs over his hands to calm yourself, while you were in search of what exactly to say. It would appear easy enough, declaring that one was pregnant, but, in truth, uttering the words was quite powerful and made the reality of the phrase stand out quite drastically.

“What is it?” Benedict asked, sitting up slightly and observing with a portion of concern the way you were biting the inside of your cheek. “(Y/N), is everything alright?”

You moved your eyes up, locking your gaze with his and taking a deep breath. It was all there, in his eyes: the love, the devotion, the care. He would be delighted. Yes, there was no other way…

“Ben, I know that sometimes it feels like we do not have a lot of time to ourselves.” He snorted in response to your words, underlining them with his reaction.

“The time I get to spend alone with you is a most cherished treasure.” You continued and slightly bucked your hips against his, making him chuckle softly. “Now, it is simply so…” You gulped and looked from left to right, before deciding to bring both of his hands to your belly. “It is so that… I am almost one hundred percent sure that I am…”

“YOU’RE PREGNANT!!!” Benedict shouted over your poor attempts of uttering the words you found so hard to actually say out loud and before you had a chance to asses the situation, you were pushed on your back, with your head by the foot of the bed and your husband fussing over you. His big hands were moving from your cheek to your belly to his head and back to your belly, all while he made noises of the purest and most natural delight you’d ever seen in a man.

“You’re pregnant!! You’re pregnant!!” He kept on repeating, his joy reverberating through every single nerve end on his body and conjoining with your own. All the insecurities of the day fell off your shoulders and the light weight that remained made your eyes water.

“Oh, my love,” you almost sobbed out, “I am so happy to see you react this way!”

“How could I not?” Benedict laughed with joy, cupping your face and kissing you and kissing you some more, small wet drops falling on your cheeks, when his emotions got the better of him. “We will be parents!” He choked out, before kissing you again and moving his hands to your belly again. “You are having a baby!” He uttered with teary eyes, sinking down on the level of your middle to place a thousand kisses on your gown. “A baby!!” He repeated again, before laughing incredulously.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him up and towards you. You needed to have him close as you buried your face in his shoulder and allowed tears of your own to run down your cheeks. “I love you!” You whispered with all your affection. “I love you and I love you and I love you!!”

More of Benedict’s tears fell on your face, when he moved himself up slightly, the salty traces mingling with your own. “My love,” he hummed softly, “you were worried, weren’t you? You were worried, it would make me fear for our alone time! Oh, (Y/N), I don’t fear that! I don’t fear a single thing when it comes to us!”

He buried his face in your neck to breathe you in, before looking at your belly again – it would become a recurrent thing in the following nine months, as your belly grew, he would look and look and look with all the adoration he was capable of. “I am beyond happy!”

“As am I!” You placed your hand over his own on your belly, as you were starting to realize the truth of this situation together, as you started to talk about names and traits, as you started to exchange assumptions and plans. It was exactly the way you’d hoped it would be.

A new chapter in your life began.

[zorosdimples]

WHEREVER YOU ARE

pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader

warnings ༄ brief descriptions of violence. a little angsty at first but it’s fluff i pinky promise!

word count ༄ 796

notes ༄ i’ve been feeling so deeply about zoro lately—i cried over him a few nights ago. this is embarrassingly soggy; i poured my heart out for him. tagging my dearest ai @gojoest <3

home.

a soft breeze carries the word, a gentle whisper that ruffles zoro’s hair and curls over the shell of his ear, fading once the message rests uncomfortably on his tongue. the sea shimmers under the moon’s loving gaze, the lulling lap of waves the only sound that reaches the starlit deck. he should be chilly in the crisp salt air, but as he glances down at you—wrapped in his protective embrace, head resting against his bare chest and the steady beat of his heart—he realizes that he has never felt warmer.

home is a word that has never meant much to the swordsman.

from an orphanage to the dojo to the furthest reaches of the east blue, zoro was born a wanderer, cursed to roam land and sea with little more than three swords and a fierce dream. hunting humans and exchanging souls for bounties that could barely cover a warm meal, a glass of sake, and a dirty bed—it was a monastic existence, devoid of comfort and pleasure. but that’s the price you pay when you make a deal with the devil. greatness isn’t bestowed upon the righteous; greatness is something you must fight for with steel claws and blood in your maw. may the most vicious creature win.

home is make-believe for a demon. it’s a tale told to frightened children who don’t yet understand the cruelty of the world.

joining luffy did not cure zoro’s restlessness. it did not make him a better man—it only redirected his cruelty. the piles of flesh and bone he left in his wake loomed over him still; he trudged through a sticky stream of ichor in his nightmares. destruction in the name of something is destruction all the same. he could feel the shackles of solitude slipping, but he was (and still is) set in his ways. it’s difficult to unlearn that which you believe yourself to be. a lifetime of isolation bred a bone-deep loneliness that he couldn’t bleed out of his chest or escape when he cracked open his rib cage and welcomed eternal darkness.

home is a luxury a man—a monster—like him does not deserve.

you draw zoro from his thoughts as you shift in his lap to face him, wrapping your legs around his waist, smoothing your palms across the strong planes of his stomach. your delicate caresses dance upwards, an act of reverence as you trace over the story of his life.

puckered scars, rippling striae, dappled moles, smattered freckles; these etchings on his tanned flesh tell of his victories and mistakes and birthrights. when you reach his broad shoulders, one hand darts up to rake through his mint green strands, fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that has him chasing your touch. your other hand tinkles his earrings, the golden chimes playing their hymn as they reflect the glimmering moonlight.

zoro’s lone eye is enraptured with your movements, and when your sweet gaze meets his, you press a featherlight kiss to his unsuspecting lips. “what was that for?” he asks with a rumbling chuckle. his hands—rough, capable of atrocities—unconsciously rub up and down your sides with worshipful tenderness.

“i love you,” you confess airily with a smile, as though those aren’t the most devastating words the swordsman has ever heard.

if zoro wasn’t a selfish man he would weep at your words. he would tell you to find someone better, he would show you the mortal weight of his sins, and he would keep his distance from a soul as radiant and kind as yours. but decades of want have conditioned him to be greedy.

hearing that phrase—though zoro has heard it from your lips hundreds of times—has a grin rivaling the brightness of the moon split his sharp features. cradling his face, you stroke his dimples with your thumbs. his hands settle on your waist and tug you toward him, your bodies pressed together like hands in a prayer. he crooks his head so your mouths are a mere breath apart.

“i love you, too,” he murmurs before claiming your parted lips with his own.

zoro still has little more than three swords and a fierce dream. but he also has three warm meals a day, more glasses of sake than he could ever want, and a clean bed to crawl into at night. he’s no longer an orphan; with the straw hats there is friendship and laughter and adventure. if asked, he will insist that he’s not a good man, that he’s a demon. but he’s fiercely loyal to his family—he will cut down anyone that stands in their way to freedom.

and then there’s you. with you, zoro has a love he has never felt before. as far as he’s concerned?

wherever you are is home.

[blossom-shy]

What will happen if you get shot in front of Jason

Jason todd x reader

Warnings: it is going to be angst to fluff

Summary: you got shot

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The Gotham night was cold and unforgiving, much like Jason Todd's heart. Rain pelted the broken windows of the abandoned warehouse where he'd been tracking a human trafficking ring for weeks. His fingers traced the grip of his pistol, memories of his own violent past churning beneath the surface.

You watched him from the shadows, your breath catching every time he moved. As a field medic who occasionally worked with the Bat-family, you'd seen Jason's complexity up close—the rage, the pain, the desperate need to protect others that contradicted his tough exterior.

"You shouldn't be here," he growled without turning around, somehow sensing your presence.

Your voice was steady. "Someone needs to watch your back."

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "I don't need protecting."

But you knew better. Jason Todd was a storm of unresolved trauma, a warrior who'd been betrayed by death itself, who believed vulnerability was a weakness. Yet beneath the Red Hood's metallic mask was a heart that had never truly healed.

When the firefight broke out, you moved with practiced precision. A bullet meant for Jason's spine found your shoulder instead. The warehouse erupted in chaos—gunshots, shattering glass, the metallic tang of blood.

Jason's world narrowed to one terrifying moment: you, wounded, bleeding out beside him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he snarled, pressing his hand against your wound, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the venom in his voice.

You managed a weak smile. "Keeping you safe."

In the ambulance, as morphine dulled your pain, Jason's hand never left yours. The tough vigilante who terrified Gotham's criminals looked small and vulnerable, his armor finally cracking.

"Don't you dare die," he whispered. "Not after everything."

Weeks of recovery followed. Jason, typically someone who ran from emotional connections, found himself changing bandages, bringing takeout, watching terrible movies to make you laugh.

"I'm not good at this," he'd mutter, adjusting your pillows.

But he was. More than he knew.

Slowly, the sharp edges of Jason Todd began to soften. Not completely—he would always be a fighter, always be complicated—but enough to let someone see the wounded heart beneath the armor.

And you? You saw all of him. The rage, the pain, the unexpected tenderness. The man desperate to save the world because he'd once been unable to save himself.

Love, they would learn, wasn't about being perfect. It was about being broken together

This is my first time doing a fanfic so hope is good because English is not my first language

[marvelmusing]

Blood Hunger

Part of the Tender Loving Care AU

Pairing: Vampire!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Summary: Aleksander takes you on your first ever visit to a feeding den, remaining by your side to offer advice and support for this new and unfamiliar experience.

Warnings [18+]: blood, typical vampire themes, blood consumption, allusions to sexual content, usual soft dom vibes from Aleksander

My Masterlist

The feeding den Aleksander takes the two of you to is unlike anything depicted in the films and television shows that are so popular with humans, or from what you’ve seen in the wild selfies and videos posted on Instagram by much younger vampires. 

Most feeding dens are similar to nightclubs, allowing both human and vampire patrons inside as long as they are above the legal drinking age. The higher scale feeding dens are more selective, only allowing vampires who have a membership into the building, aside from the humans who work there. 

The humans working at all respectable feeding dens are regularly tested to ensure that their blood is clean and healthy to avoid any diseases from being passed onto the vampires feeding from them. High scale dens, like the one Aleksander has brought you to, also provide their human workers with plenty of benefits to ensure that they remain both physically and mentally healthy. After all, being fed on can be an intense experience. 

“How do you decide who to…” 

As your gaze lands on a human, tilting her head back for a vampire to sink his fangs into her neck on the other side of the room, your words trail off into nothing. Hunger stirs in your stomach at the sight, despite your nerves.  

“How do you decide who you would like to feed on?” Aleksander suggests knowingly. 

You nod. 

“Generally just whoever smells the most appealing.” 

Subconsciously, your eyes trace over the exposed skin of his throat, lingering on the thrum of his pulse as his heart beats its steady rhythm. When you realise you’ve been staring, your cheeks flush with a flustered warmth and the corner of Aleksander’s lips twitch with the hint of a smile as he observes where your gaze has focused. One of his dark brows lifts, his smile spreading into a smirk as you drag your eyes away from him to survey the floor once again. 

“Although for today I would suggest you take comfort into account, instead of taste,” he adds. 

His words make you frown, and you tilt your head as you turn back to face him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Since it’s your first time, you should pick someone who doesn’t intimidate you - someone who will make you feel at ease about biting them.” 

The only person you’ve ever fed from is Aleksander. Just the thought of feeding on someone else has apprehension prickling over your skin despite the fact that you haven’t fed since yesterday at noon. There’s a gnaw of hunger in your stomach and the urge to bounce your leg to dispel the nervous energy runs through the limb in question. He brushes his knuckles against yours in a reassuring motion. Staring down at his hand, nerves continue to roll over in your stomach and your thumb scratches lightly against the palm of your other hand. 

“How will I know when to stop?” 

Aleksander places his hand over both of yours, enveloping them entirely with his palm which halts your nervous fidgeting, knowing that if you scratched for long enough your skin would break under the scrape of your nails, causing your palm to bleed.  

“Only selfish vampires are the ones who succumb to their instincts. You aren’t a selfish person, milaya.” 

There’s hesitation in your eyes but as soon as they meet Aleksander’s, and find nothing but genuine belief there, some confidence fills your chest. Inhaling shakily, you nod, and he provides your hands with a gentle squeeze. When he loosens his hold, his hand drops down casually to settle on your thigh as a reassuring pressure that reminds you of his presence by your side. Despite his confidence, concerns and worries continue to tighten around your lungs.  

“You still look worried,” he observes. 

“Where am you supposed to bite?” 

He considers your question briefly before he shrugs casually. 

“It depends on your preference,” he explains, circling his thumb gently over your thigh. “Some people find the neck too intimate for a casual feeding, while some struggle to find the right angle for the wrist. Whatever is easiest for you both.” 

“Would you stay with me?” 

He nods. 

“If that’s what you want?” You nod quickly and a soft smile traces over his lips. “Has anyone caught your eye?” 

There had been a young man who gained your attention earlier, though his features bear an almost embarrassingly close resemblance to Aleksander, which makes you rather reluctant to admit how appealing he seemed. Rather pointedly, you keep your gaze fixed on the buttons of Aleksander’s shirt. 

“He’s too young,” you say quietly in a mumbled protest. 

Aleksander laughs, a sound that makes you blush, his teeth flashing as he tilts his head back slightly. With amusement sparkling in his eyes and a carefree grin on his face, he doesn’t look over four hundred years old. 

“I hate to tell you this, but with that mentality almost everyone here is too young for you.” 

The smile that tugs at your lips is sheepish as you look down at your feet, swinging them back and forth momentarily.  

“Except for you.” 

His expression softens as he nods with a smile. 

“Except for me.” There’s a small pause as he holds your gaze before he reminds you in an almost teasing voice, “But you can’t feed on me all the time.” 

Aleksander stands, pushing his chair back into place before he extends his hand out towards you. 

“Let’s go find him then,” he says, his eyes alight with laughter despite the low lighting around us. Taking his hand, you frown at him and stand up by his side. 

“Who?” 

“That young man you had your eye on when we arrived.” 

Your jaw drops and Aleksander laughs again quietly. Immediately, you clasp your hands over your face to hide the embarrassed blush spreading over your cheeks. Had you truly been that obvious? 

“Stop it,” you protest weakly, trying not to smile at the sound of his laughter. 

He chuckles, tugging you into his side as we move around the chairs. As always, your body slots easily beside Aleksander’s and he settles his arm around your shoulders, a reassuring pressure to keep your steps even with his. He lowers his head down to murmur against your ear, 

“If you do well, I’ll feed on you afterwards.” 

At that, your head perks up. 

“Really?” 

He almost looks surprised by your reaction, his head tilted aside whilst his lips flicker into a half-smile. 

“If you would like you to?” There’s some hesitation in his eyes, as he scours your face in an attempt at reading your thoughts. You nod instantly. 

The man you had noticed earlier is seated in a booth at the far end of the den. There’s a pitcher of ice-cold water and a handful of glasses perched in the centre of the table, alongside a small candle that flickers through a frosted glass jar. The dark emerald leather seat curls in a half-circle around the polished wooden table. 

Nervous energy thrums through your body. How do you politely ask someone if you can drink their blood? He offers you a friendly smile, raising a brow as he glances between your uncertain eyes and Aleksander hovering behind you as a safety net. 

“Hungry?” the man asks. 

The smile that tugs at your lips is sheepish as you nod, and he slides over in the booth to provide some open space beside him. Despite Aleksander’s teasing earlier, the man doesn’t look much younger than you, physically. Hesitantly, you move forwards as Aleksander stands beside the empty seat opposite you. 

“You don’t mind if you stay, do you?” Aleksander says casually.

His words are phrased like a polite question, but his tone makes it evident that the two of you would simply find someone else if Aleksander wasn’t allowed to remain with you. It doesn’t come to that though because the man shakes his head amicably. 

“Not at all.” He glances at you, raising a brow with an unfaltering smile. “First time?” You nod and he offers you his hand to help you sit down beside him. “I’ve done this plenty of times before.” 

Nerves continue to buzz uncomfortably beneath your skin. If your hands weren’t clasped so tightly together in your lap, they would be shaking for everyone to see. But Aleksander’s presence in the seat opposite you provides some reassurance, allowing you to focus on the man beside you and the task at hand. 

“I’m James.” 

Smiling nervously, you offer him your name in return.

“Have you fed on anyone before now?” he asks.

Immediately, your flickers over to Aleksander while you fidget with your fingers, smoothing the pad of your thumb over each of your nails. 

“Just one other person.” 

James nods in acknowledgement, his easy smile unfaltering as he tilts his head to look at you. 

“Where would you like to start?” 

There’s a moment of hesitation as you think through the different places you could bite before you offer him a suggestion. 

“Wrist?” 

He nods again, unbuttoning the cuff of his left sleeve. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

At the sight of his bare forearm being revealed, your mouth goes dry. His heartbeat is only slightly elevated in anticipation, though he appears to be quite calm about the situation. He said he’s done this on a number of occasions which comforts you a little. At least he knows what he’s doing - and Aleksander is here with you. 

Slowly, you take James’s hand in your own, bearing his wrist with veins openly on display. If the unnaturally chilled temperature of your hands unsettles him he doesn’t show it, which you appreciate. Inhaling a deep breath, the scent of his blood fills your senses and your mouth waters. You glance up at his face again, assessing his expression, and he gives you a small nod of consent. 

Closing your eyes, you extend your fangs and bite down into his skin. Hot, fresh blood pools into your mouth, a delightfully savoury taste that you swallow down eagerly with a small hum of pleasure. It’s different without Aleksander’s hand at the nape of your neck or cupping your jaw and you feel slightly unbalanced without his touch to ground you. 

You drink until you’re almost satisfied, allowing his blood to just take the edge off your hunger, since you don’t want to risk taking too much from him. Licking his wounds feels too intimate, but you don’t want to leave him openly bleeding after the bite, so you keep your mouth over the puncture marks until the blood has slowed considerably. Only then do you lean back, giving him some space after feeding on him. 

Sucking your tongue against the front of your teeth, you attempt to clear the rest of his blood from your mouth. James breathes out a soft laugh, his head slumped back against the seat behind you. Aleksander had mentioned that with more time your venom would be strong for him, and you can only imagine how it might affect a human like James. 

His smile lingers as he tilts his head lazily towards you, blinking through the haze in his eyes as he does so. When he manages to sit up, he straightens himself with a palpable energy alight in his eyes. He looks rejuvenated as he slides a hand into his hair, ruffling it slightly as he breathes out another quiet laugh of disbelief. Blood hunger sated, the tension has melted from your chest, allowing you to breathe easily and offer him a small smile. 

“Thank you.” 

He nods instantly, hands splayed on the seat beneath you on each side of his thighs. Despite the fact that he’s lost blood, there’s a flush to his cheeks and he seems ready for anything. Usually, you feel tired after Aleksander feeds on you, most likely from the combination of his venom and the loss of blood. Being fed on clearly has the opposite effect on a human. 

“If you ever need a feed, I’m here most evenings.” 

His offer stuns you momentarily but you nod in response. When he tilts his head pointedly towards the rest of the club, you slide out of his way to allow him out of the booth. The two of you part ways after an exchange of nods and smiles. 

There’s a slight wobble in his legs as he walks towards the bar, and you find yourself watching him as you sit back down onto the edge of the seat. Too surprised by James’s response to your bite, you don’t realise Aleksander has stood up as well. He nudges your knee gently with his, encouraging you to slide further into the booth, which you do. 

“That was easier than you thought it would be,” you admit. 

Aleksander smiles widely at you as he takes a seat in the open space beside you. 

“You did very well.” 

Warm blood rushes to the surface of your skin, as he presses his lips softly against your cheek. His nose nuzzles affectionately over your cheek, as he breathes in the scent of your blush, his chest expanding with the depth of his inhale. Your stomach flips at the sound of a small hum of pleasure catching in the back of his throat and he presses a gentle kiss to your jawline, tracing his way up to your ear. 

“You smell delightful.” 

The heat of your skin prickles down the length of your body. 

“I do?” 

He nods, humming quietly in confirmation, and his next words, a low admission, are murmured against the shell of your ear.

“My teeth are just aching for a bite of you.” 

Tilting your head backwards, you bear as much of your throat as possible for him to feed from, your eyes fluttering closed in anticipation of his bite. When nothing happens, when there’s no sting of pain from his fangs descending into your skin or flood of pleasure from his venom, you open your eyes and blink at him in confusion. 

Aleksander cradles the back of your head with one of his hands, the nape of your neck fitting perfectly in the palm of his hand. His fingertips graze over the hollow of your throat and there’s no doubt he can feel the bob of your throat as you swallow. His eyes scour over your expression intently. 

“May I?” he asks. 

You nod. He waits patiently for you to find your voice. 

“Yes, please.” 

He smiles though there’s some distance in his eyes as he appears to think something over in his mind. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“Would you… would you mind if you made this bite a little messy?” 

You blink at him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When I bite you, my venom encourages you to relax and stay still, meaning the puncture wound is always small. But if I were to tilt your head slightly during the feeding-” he demonstrates the motion, tilting your head back slightly with one of his fingers now tucked under your chin “-your skin would tear, meaning there would be more blood for me to feed on.” 

His hands drop down to settle casually on your thighs, a comforting weight as he remains close to your body without crowding you too much. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the cool air brushing over the skin that had previously been shielded by his hand. 

“You don’t have to agree. Some people find it enjoyable.” 

In your ears, your voice sounds as breathless as you feel, your lashes fluttering at the sight of his darkened eyes in the low light. 

“Enjoyable?” 

“Well,” he starts with a small smirk. “I would have to clean up the mess with my tongue.” 

There’s a beat of silence while Aleksander’s eyes twinkle with amusement at the sight of your widened eyes. 

“Oh.” 

The thought of Aleksander’s warm tongue moving over the length of your throat, lapping up the blood that spills from his bite, makes heat curl through your body. Once again, he traces his knuckle along your jawline to keep your eyes on his as if he can sense how flustered you are. He cocks his head, curiosity sparkling in the depths of his gaze as he examines you. 

“Are you aroused?” 

Instantly, your legs snap together, the bones of your kneecaps clashing as you press them closed. The heat spreading over your cheeks dives down your body. 

“No.” 

He purses his lips together momentarily, suppressing the laughter that shimmers in his eyes at your sudden reaction. 

“It’s alright if you are. Feeding in public is a rather intimate affair.” 

“It’s not the feeding.” 

He lifts a dark brow. 

“It’s not?” 

“This… this doesn’t happen to me very often.” 

His brows draw together for a brief moment, his forehead creasing slightly as he observes your widened eyes and heated cheeks. Then the corner of his mouth lifts and a softness creeps into his dark eyes. 

“Oh, sweet girl, is it me?” 

His doting tone has you teetering on a knife’s edge of a great big something. Something that you’re desperate for, your fingers prickling with the urge to sink your nails in and claw at this feeling to get what you want - and Aleksander is what you want. 

“Aleksander, please, bite me.” 

There’s a glimmer in his eyes, as if he’s considering teasing you even further. Though the temptation of biting you seems too much of an incentive for him to move closer. 

He takes your chin gently between his fingers, turning your head to one side to reveal a large portion of your neck for him. His nose traces over your pulse as he breathes in your scent. Your heart pounds expectantly, waiting for him to bite down on your throat, anticipation tingling over your skin. 

“Ready?” 

You nod. There’s a brief pause as he extends his fangs. 

“Breathe, little love.”

It’s only then that you realise you’ve been holding your breath and light-headedness has descended. He waits until you’ve taken a soothing inhale, your lungs filling with air which instantly alleviates most of your nervousness. He watches you breathe steadily for several moments. Then Aleksander sinks his teeth into your skin. 

Like always, there’s a small sting of pain that quickly diminishes as his venom begins threading through your veins. A muted whimper catches in the back of your throat and you breathe out a heavy sigh as bliss fills your body. 

Aleksander’s hands slide up your thighs, slipping beneath your skirt to squeeze at the crease where your thighs meet your hips. His sudden touch in such an intimate area has you gasping, your head falling backwards as you shift yourself closer to his body. The movement itself causes Aleksander’s fangs to drag through your skin, drawing more blood to the surface. 

He holds the back of your head, preventing you from moving any further to ensure that he doesn’t spill too much blood. He sucks diligently on the wound, swallowing down as much of your blood as possible. A rivulet of hot blood traces its way down your throat and you shudder at the sensation. Aleksander withdraws his fangs from your skin to lap up the line of blood running down over your collarbone. Sticky blood continues to bloom from the puncture wounds as his tongue licks over your thundering pulse, removing the blood that is already beginning to dry there.

He breathes heavily from the exertion of feeding, each breath brushing delicately over your skin in a gentle caress. His venom helps the skin close naturally, though it takes longer than usual since the wounds are larger this time. Aleksander keeps his face tucked into the crook of your neck, tongue tracing lazily over your skin whenever a droplet of blood rolls down from the wound. 

Aleksander’s venom threads its way through your veins, filling your limbs with a comfortable heaviness. Your entire body is enveloped in a sense of comfort and warmth, like being cocooned in a soft blanket, and your sense of hearing is limited to the pounding of your heart, beating a steady rhythm as you also attempt to catch your breath from such an intense feeding.

The sound of Aleksander pouring a glass of water is distant and muffled. Even with your eyes closed, focusing your attention on him as he drinks some water helps you to reorientate yourself. He encourages you to drink some water and you’re surprised by how dry your throat is. 

“Easy,” he murmurs. “Small sips.” 

It takes some difficulty to do as he says, but Aleksander’s hand at the nape of your neck helps to control the speed of your drinking. 

Slowly, the rest of the world comes back into focus. Aleksander’s body shields you from most of the sights and sounds of the club, which seem too bright and too loud compared to earlier. It’s then that you notice the concern in his eyes. 

“Can I come home with you tonight?” you ask him quietly, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve. He nods, expression softening further. 

“Of course. Now?” 

You nod. There’s a shakiness to your legs, they feel almost disconnected from the rest of your body as you look down at your heels. Despite being well practised in wearing heels, the thought of walking has apprehension clouding your mind. Aleksander notices your frown. 

“What’s wrong?” 

It’s difficult to string your thoughts together into something coherent to say to him as an explanation and your lips part for a moment. Nothing comes out as you attempt to gather your concerns. 

“I don’t think I can walk in heels, but the buckles look too complicated for me to unfasten in this state.” 

He breathes out a soft laugh. 

“Well, there’s an easy fix for that.” 

He descends onto one knee smoothly, crouching down to unbuckle your heels. His thumb circles soothingly over where the strap has been pressed against your ankle, offering a tender touch to a place you hadn’t even realised was hurting. He squeezes gently at your calves, fingertips casual in their motions, right where you can feel the muscles trembling slightly from the aftermath of his venom. 

He tilts his head aside, his eyes scouring over the length of the floor. It takes you a long moment to realise that he’s searching for any broken glass or spilt drinks that might hurt your bare feet or cause you to slip on your way to the exit. When his gaze returns to meet yours you smile softly in appreciation, and he offers his hand to help you stand. 

The smooth polished stone that makes up the flooring is surprisingly warm against your bare skin, and you frown down at your feet. 

“Underfloor heating,” Aleksander murmurs quietly in explanation. 

“Oh.” A pleased shudder runs from the soles of your feet up to your chest. “It’s really nice.” 

He breathes out a quiet laugh, keeping you tucked close into the side of his body. He’s warm too, and you find yourself gripping onto the front of his shirt - both to keep your balance and to make the most of his warmth. The straps of your heels hang delicately from his fingers, swinging lightly as you walk. 

As you near the exit, goosebumps prickle over your skin and Aleksander shrugs his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the cool breeze. He presses you close against his side and when he notices your questioning look he murmurs against your temple. 

“Your body temperature is about to drop after being fed on.” 

Almost instantaneously, a shudder wracks through your body and you grip tighter onto the fabric of his shirt, trying to draw some heat from his body to yours. 

He stops at the top of the steps that make up the entrance of the building and you frown at him. The frown on your face deepens when his arm tightens around your shoulders, his other arm reaching for your legs. A small squeal of surprise escapes your lips as he sweeps you up against his chest and you wrap your arms hurriedly around his neck to steady yourself. Aleksander’s smile is wide as he carries you down the steps. 

The sudden shift from the heat of the club to the darkened streets make your shivers relentless, your body trembling in the desperate hope of creating some warmth of your own - despite how impossible that is. When he notices your teeth chattering, concern fills Aleksander’s features, and he begins to walk faster towards his car. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury your face into his chest to ground yourself and cling to a little more warmth. When you reach his car, Aleksander places you into the passenger seat with ease, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead before he closes the door behind you. 

Once the keys have been turned in the ignition, Aleksander dials up the heating system and a delightfully warm rush of air floods over your face. Eager for more, you hover your hands in front of the vents to warm your ice-cold fingers. He takes your hands in his own, cupping them between both of his palms to shield them from the cold that lingers in the air of the car. Gently, he begins to rub against your fingers and the friction encourages some warmth to settle beneath your skin. 

The two of you stay like this for a long moment, Aleksander warming your hands as you continue to shiver occasionally due to the last slivers of cold leaving your body. The car hums quietly and combined with the rush of hot air they provide a soothing ambience that has your eyes growing heavy. Exhaustion is common after being fed on and all you want to do now is curl up beside Aleksander and go to sleep.  

With your fingers still feeling half-numb from the cold, you fumble with the clasp of the seatbelt, trying several times to buckle it with limited success. After your third or fourth attempt, Aleksander takes it from your hands, slotting it firmly into place for you. When your eyes lock, your cheeks warm and offer him a grateful smile. An unreadable emotion crosses over his eyes but he only nods in acknowledgement, shifting his attention towards the car as he puts it into gear. 

He turns to look out of the rearview window, placing his hand on the headrest behind you as he does so. When his eyes skim over you, concern touches his features and he says quietly, 

“Feel free to get some rest. Traffic should be light at this time, so we’ll be home soon.” 

Home. The thought of  Aleksander considering the two of you together at his house as a home has a cosy warmth spreading in your chest which encourages you to close your eyes. As always, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat and breathing has a sense of calm filling you as you anticipate each soft exhale. Before you know it, you’re falling into a comfortable slumber. 

-

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[anjali-ashok-777]

SUCCUBUS LOTTIE X READER

(Succubus Lottie reverses her curse to be with you.

Wlw)

Lottie kisses you harshly. Gripping your hair as she kisses u. Mmm mm ok ok lot wait wait…. You pull away panting.

Lottie looks at you concerned, pouting slightly . Baby what is it…? She cups your cheek softly.

You look up to your girlfriend. The succubus. A demon, but the heart off a goddess. U look at her and bravely speak.

Charls- there’s- there’s no point in us. You say holding her waist, sighing.

Charlotte freezes. Her lip trembles.

W-what? What n-no stop it what-

You look up sadly…soft.. Baby there’s no point if ur gonna live forever and I’ll just be a bag of fucking bones…I’m gonna die eventually lot.

No. No don’t talk to me like that I-I love you…no please…

Lottie pleads. Looking at u like your some madman

You look at the girl. Sweetheart there’s no poi-

I’ll reverse the curse

You freeze at her words. What?

I said. I’ll reverse the curse. Lottie sounds stern.

You chuckle…no,no u can’t….it’s…u can’t handle being human baby you’ve been a succubus for so long…Charlotte-

She cups your cheek. Looks into you eyes.

For you. I’m doing it for you.

You look at her wide eyed. Sweetheart I can’t do that to you-Charlotte please I-

She cuts you off.

I said I’m fucking doing it.

You look at her. You hesitate. You contemplate. You nod finally.

How? You ask unsure

I need to drink the blood of a mortal I’m attached too. She says looking away.

You grip her chin and turn her to you.

Who.

You

How much

A little

How. Much.

A lot.

You stare..hand still on her chin.

Knife.

Lottie looks at you.

W-what?

Hand me a knife Charlotte. You say soft but stern.

Charlotte hesitates…but runs to her kitchen and gets a knife.

She hands it to you.

Before u begin you look at her.

Charlotte. You ask

She looks at u afraid…loving…

Yeah? She asks softly

When we do this….u do realise you’ll feel more human…sensitive, emotional….weaker.

Lottie hesitantly nods.

It’s not gonna be an easy jump baby. You say softly….comforting the nervous girl.

Just do it. She shivers.

You look at her. You raise the knife to your wrist.

*Slit*

Lottie visibly gasps as she runs to help you.

B-baby that’s too deep…no what are you-

She exclaims as she holds my arm

Go on drink Lottie… you say urging her. Cmon sweetheart I know u can.

Lottie looks hesitant. My arm bleeds quickly

Charli cmon do it…cmon baby cmon you say…

Lottie slowly puts her lips on your wound.

You flip her over so she sits between your legs…comfortable and secure…you kiss her temple as she slowly sucks the blood out.

T-that’s it babygirl…there-there u go…you sigh at the pressure

Lottie moans as she drinks

Mm Nnngh. She drinks a lot.

You pull away.

You sigh as you wrap my hand in some cloth. Tired.

C-charli? You call out. Charls? Babe-

Everything feels big. She says…barely above a whisper

What? What do yo-

She looks at you. Shaky but frozen…mouth covered in blood…eyes tearing up…

Everything feels so big.. she whispers.

Then it hits you.

The sensitivity…humanity…emotion..It’s hitting her at high amounts and so quickly at that.

You run to the smaller girl quickly…gathering her im your arms just as she starts sobbing.

Shh shh I know baby I know oh shh shh I’m here I’m here…

You whisper words of comfort into her ear.

A-why is it so painful why why- I-I can’t do this I-I feel so - it feels so

Lottie panics…sobbing into your chest..

I know babygirl I know I know…it’ll all be over okay? I’m right here I’m right here. You coo

She looks up…sadly.

You promise?

Promise what baby….? You say tucking her hair behind her ear

Don’t fucking make me regret this…don’t leave me like this please…she begs you

You just bend down…and kiss her. Soft, tender, no movement. Just a kiss

You pull away…resting your head on her forehead.

Her cheeks are flushed to a bright red. She must be feeling more intensely…the kids putting her through that. It must’ve been different from when she was a succubus.

I promise Lottie. You giggle down at her. Im never leaving…ever.

Ever.

You both stay like that a while…occasionally you kiss her temple….swaying her softly, humming.

Your at peace. More days to come you think. Finite, and hence more to live for.

All Lottie thinks, is about the girl she’s spending her now, limited days with.

U kiss her forehead.

She knows you love her.

She knows.

[jarofstyles]

Vampire harry fluff 🥺🥺🥺 after he drinks from you n u get allllll clingy but he just wants you to rest so he dresses u up in ur fav nighty and sits u on his lap while he feeds u and cuddles u to sleep ☹️☹️

YES okay my love! here is a tiny blurbby

Patreon

----

"I'm okay, Harry." Her voice was slightly slurred as she felt the straw being pressed against her lips. Lemonade was in the cup to get her blood sugar back up, the sour sweet liquid hitting her tongue in relief. Harry watched intently as she sipped, taking a bit too big of one making her choke.

"Careful, pet." He scolded quietly, wiping away the excess dribbling down her chin with his thumb. "Don't choke. Know it tastes good but you've got to be mindful."

His delicate chastising tone made her pout, but his tenderness towards her worked her belly into a tizzy of butterflies while he tended to her. For being a creature of so many people's nightmares, Y/N found it ironic that he was the one living in her daydreams. The red flooding the normal moss green iris's of his eyes after the blood intake was something that had taken some getting used to, she had to admit, but now that she associated it with pleasure and being tended to... it wasn't anything she feared.

"M'sorry." She said softly, returning to her gentle sips as he brought the straw back to her lips and let her take a bit more. Harry obviously cherished this time with her. He prepared for it, bringing a sweet beverage and a snack for her, making sure she was placed in a comfortable position, ensuring she was at the peak of relaxation before he took from her. He genuinely cared for the girl and her well being. She wasn't just a meal to the vampire.

"There we are. Your heart rate is returning to normal." Cool fingers brushed the baby hairs that hadn't been held back by her bun, the simple action making her sigh. She ran unusually hot, his cold feeling a welcome relief from her normal heat. "You're sure it was alright? Nothing has changed, nothing unusual?" He prodded at her every time to make sure.

Other than wet panties from the arousal the venom of his bites gave? It wasn't a bother at all.

"I'm totally fine." Her warm hand stroked over his shoulder. His shirt was a soft linen, thin and easy to feel her body heat through. That was on purpose. Nothing made the Vampire feel more alive than her human heat, the beat of her heart, her sweet scent lingering on his skin like aftershave when he returned to his own bed. Her silky nightgown covered her enough to leave bit to the imagination while still giving him enough of a peek to have him catching looks here and there.

His little human. So beautiful. Full of warmth. The sweetest thing he's ever tasted.

"Alright. Your eyes are closing." he placed the cup down, feeling her shift to lay on his shoulder. "Do you want to lay down on the bed?"

Y/N was far too comfortable against his cool chest, her cheek bleeding heat against him as she tucked her face against the creature, seeking his comfort. "No, no. Just..." she closed her eyes. "Let me rest my eyes here for a moment." Harry wouldn't object. He would hold her for centuries, if he could. "Alright, little Dove." He murmured, rubbing over her waist. "just for a moment."

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

My thorn-laden heart (it's yours, it's yours, it's yours)

A companion piece to Carry my heart (and hold it gently in your arms). From Ghil's POV! Yes there's a Hanahaki reference in here. Tender and bittersweet, and absolutely delightful to write how differently Ghil and Emmrich view each other.

Feat. My Ingellvar, Ghil'danan, and the bone daddy himself, Emmrich Volkarin.

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

Nobody could wake him.

To be fair, nobody wanted to. Emmrich had been uncharacteristically quiet on the way back, exhaustion seemingly making him drag his feet.

It had been a rough day to begin with. Antaam, Ventatori, and a mad dash to get rid of a bunch of magically charged poison had left its mark, sprinting from one end of Treviso to the other.

“Why don't you carry him, Rook?” Neve said teasingly. “You know he's going to be hurting tomorrow if we leave him sleeping here.”

Fuck. She was right. As much as he knew she was actively tormenting him, Neve did bring up a good point.

Ghil sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “If he kills me, make him bring me back,” he groaned.

Neve smiled in that wickedly mysterious way of hers. “Perhaps. Good luck.” She trotted out of the room, leaving him alone.

Emmrich looked so young. The gentle touch of sleep drew the lines away from his face, reminding Ghil of how he'd looked fourteen years ago.

Bittersweet memories. The professor didn't even remember him from before he transitioned, and Ghil didn't know whether that was a blessing or a curse.

He walked over, sliding a hand under Emmrich's knees, and the other around his shoulders.

The necromancer was much lighter than he expected. All legs and bone, gangly in a way that often came off as grace.

It was a miracle Ghil managed to keep his eyes on the battlefield on any given day.

Emmrich barely stirred. It was as if he recognized the person who held him would never do him any harm.

Maker. Cradled in his arms was the manifestation of his bleeding, beating heart, ruby-slick and beating with the spark of life this man had installed years ago.

Every time Ghil got into his head about it, he reminded himself Emmrich was only human. It would be unfair to put him on a pedestal.

Still, as his feet carried him towards the main building of the Lighthouse, he couldn't help the relentless flood of affection. Time spent together actually learning who Emmrich was only made a longtime crush bloom into a deep, unshakeable love.

Like brambles, rooting deep into his heart where they could never be dug out.

He would choke on those blackberry blossoms before ever trying to get rid of them.

A questioning hiss drew him from his thoughts. Manfred’s eyes glowed in the dark, reminding him of a cat.

“Manfred,” he whispered. “Would you set up what Emmrich needs for bed?”

The skeleton nodded, a chipperness to his steps as he scuttled up the stairs that wound up to everyone's separate quarters.

As he followed, he felt the professor stir in his arms.

“Rook?” Emmrich said sleepily. Maker’s breath, that fucking nickname. It drove Ghil mad some days.

Coming to full consciousness, the professor flailed, and Ghil was forced to tighten his hold, lest the man brain himself on the stone railing. “R-Rook!”

“Shh,” Ghil hushed. “You fell asleep, professor.”

Emmrich looked at him, aghast. “You could have just woken me up!”

He couldn't help but snort. This man was too cute for his own good. “We tried. Dozing off at dinner…should I take you on less missions?”

The glare he received made him grin, followed by a scolding smack. “I'm not an invalid! You requested an expert on the Fade, which requires me to-”

Laughter came bubbling out of Ghil’s chest, cutting the professor off. “I know,” he said, unable to control the wealth of affection spilling from him. “I'm just teasing.” Emmrich’s disapproving face only made him smile more, even as he stopped at the top of the stairs. “Would you like me to set you down now?”

“Yes,” Emmrich retorted. “I'm perfectly able to walk to my own quarters. Where is Manfred, anyway?”

Ghil glanced up. The skeleton was already gone from view. “In your room,” he replied, setting Emmrich on his feet. “I asked Manfred if he'd prep your bed for you, just in case you didn't wake.”

An odd look crossed the professor’s face, something that Ghil couldn't read. “You would have taken me all the way to my bed?”

I'd take you to mine, if you'd let me.

Ghil swallowed the inappropriate response, mentally smacking himself up the back of the head. He coughed instead. “Of course.” Ghil could feel the stark blush spreading, hating how easily it would show on his skin. “Wherever…” he faltered. What a chicken. What a coward. Alone in the Lighthouse with the one person he'd ever wanted, and he still was weak.

Ghil wanted to be someone who could be relied on. Not necessarily a hero, fuck that, but a bulwark against the endless storm of their lives.

That required courage.

He forced the words out, quieter than intended. “Wherever you need me to carry you, I'll always be more than happy to.”

Emmrich’s lips parted, his eyes wide like he'd come to some sort of revelation.

Whatever it was, he kept it to himself, looking away as he brushed invisible wrinkles from his clothes. “Well,” he replied quietly. “I appreciate the offer. And…thank you for carrying me.”

Ghil’s chest felt warm. He gazed at Emmrich tenderly. “Anytime, professor.”

Emmrich stared down at him disapprovingly. “You know what I prefer to be called.”

In the low candlelight, a single strand of white hair stuck to Emmrich's clothes. It was odd, something that didn't belong with the professor’s seamless image.

Ghil was reminded of the way Emmrich looked in the early morning, his moustache askew and his clothes rumpled.

He smiled. Not so seamless after all. Another imperfection, to be loved as it was.

Before he knew it, he'd reached forward, plucking it from the professor’s clothes. “Sorry,” he said absentmindedly. “It's the worst part about having long hair.”

Emmrich nodded. “Of course. Thank you, dear Rook.”

The nickname scratched at him, a reminder of his leadership. His title. His crown, snug around his throat and drawing tighter every day.

“Professor,” he said, before he could help himself. “Say my name.”

Internally he cringed. It came out as a command instead of a request.

-’danan,” came the whispered reply. It shocked Ghil back out of his head, sending his heart stuttering.

Holy shit. Holy shit. He was going to die, right here on the floor. Emmrich was looking at him in a way he'd never seen before, and it filled him with an impulsive confidence he rarely felt.

Taking the professor's hand in his own, he absentmindedly noted the callouses there. Years of magework had worn into Emmrich, a tapestry of skill written across his skin.

“If the sound of my name on your lips is the last thing I hear, I don't think I'd mind.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he leaned down, intent on hiding the blush that was definitely coming.

Instead, he kissed the back of Emmrich's hand, silently grateful for the way they'd healed him again and again.

Ghil glanced up, meeting Emmrich’s eyes. Kind eyes, wide with pupils blown.

He had to go. He had to run away, before he ruined this moment by doing something stupid and impulsive.

“Goodnight…Emmrich.” Quickly, Ghil turned on his heel, fleeing to his room.

He hoped he hadn't scared the man off.

He hoped tomorrow, Emmrich would still grace him with his presence.

[circyexistforcontent]

❝ DID YOU GET ENOUGH LOVE, MY LITTLE DOVE? ❞ (ANGST)

❀ synopsis: Everyone is bound to die eventually. Either by accident or by purpose, it can even be a natural death. Sadly, yours seem to be an early one. How does the one left behind feel about all this?

❀ request: sibling scara but reader fuckign DIES :33??? please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

❀ warnings: implied death, Scaramouche is this close to going ape shit.

If he were younger he would’ve screamed at you for abandoning him like the last human he bonded with. He would’ve cried and maimed your corpse until he couldn’t recognize it. But that is if he were Kunikuzushi, he is wiser now. He knows you didn’t choose when your life would be forcefully taken away, it is all in the hands of fate—his immortal enemy.

He could never forget how your usually radiant and warm skin now looked pale and felt cold like his. Your eyes were vacant, there was no life present in them, not anymore. How could anyone come after you? You hadn’t done anything deserving of death, unlike him. There was only one logical explanation for your death and that’s someone finding out you were someone dear to the Harbinger, and they went after you to pay for the crimes you never committed.

His rage surpasses all the times he’s been “betrayed” before, and it’s not directed at you. Oh no, it’s directed at the perpetrator of your death. How he wishes he could drive his fist to their chest and rip out their heart just so they could feel a fragment of how he’s feeling. And he’ll make sure they're alive through the entire process. He won’t allow them to feel the relief of death so early.

Other than his unbridled fury, his other side mourns for your death. After a moment he cradles your lifeless body with all the tenderness and care he wasn’t able to receive from his early years as Kabukimono. He would beg for you to not pass on, to not leave him behind and please, stay awake for him. If any nearby outsider or subordinate of his caught sight of this moment he’ll either yell at them to leave or he’ll kill them. 

The emptiness in his chest seems to grow even larger than before your death, the room seemed more still, too quiet for his liking. When his mind isn’t occupied by his duties as a harbinger and he gets to have a moment to himself his thoughts would drift to moments you both spent together. He doesn’t even have a heart but the ache he felt in his chest is unlike any he’s ever felt.

Why is he like this? Why can’t he get over you?

He doesn’t get it, nothing makes sense to him anymore.

“Please-!” Scaramouche breathes out as he holds your body close to him, doing his damn hardest to stop the bleeding from your abdomen. Your eyes have closed long ago, but your heart still beats. But how much longer until it eventually stops? “You can’t do this to me! You can’t!” He yells out to you, it’s like he’s reverted back to his old self. His old, pathetic, and vulnerable self had no idea of how the world worked. Hot tears drip down his cheeks and onto your cold cheek, falling down the bloody grass panes.  He buries his face on your chest, trying to seek comfort from you like he did before. Instead of the warmth you usually radiate, he was greeted with the familiar touch of a corpse which made his throat constrict, he could feel another sob threatening to escape his lips. “Don’t leave me, please… not again…”

notes: based on a real-life experience of mine, thought I might as well write it down on one of my comfort characters.

[witchofthesouls]

It’s sad bitch hour so I hope you’re ready, grab your tissues 🤧😢

I was watching Dumbo with my nieces and nephews and when ‘Baby Mine’ started, it got me thinking of Girl Dad! Megatron and the fact that Megatron is/was a poet.

Two scenarios popped in my head;

One: Megatron comes back from a mission heavily injured and his young daughter/s are distressed at the sight of him and the idea that he almost died, so he lets her/them climb next to him and he holds her/them and hums or recites ‘Baby Mine.’

Two: An ‘Autobots Win AU’ where Megatron is imprisoned and set to stand trial/executed and before any of that, Optimus being the bleeding heart he is even for his old friend/enemy, lets Megatron see his daughter/s one last time. The girl/s are confused and scared and latch onto Megatron and Megatron, possibly already accepting his fate of being executed, comforts them by either humming or reciting ‘Baby Mine’ until their time is up and Optimus or some other Autobots come and take the girl/s away and leaving Megatron alone.

Anon, I say lean into it because I need more heartbreak, especially after rewatching the scene. It hits harder as an adult...

In the first one, their kids' mother died from medical complications. The youngest girl doesn't remember, but the oldest sister does.

The kids only have a vague idea what's going on, but it's the oldest that grasps the full extent as-

Megatron could be heard, either by their thundering voice or their personal communication lines. The fact that he's quiet and no one is allowing them access to the medbay is absolutely chillingly telling.

Rumble and Frenzy, along with Skywarp, are keeping the girls company. The twins are the most battle capable of Soundwave's cassettes, and the Seeker can teleport with the two kids. If Megatron dies on the operating table, the aftermath will get ugly.

Their dad pulls through, but he's in really rough shape.

Que a quiet and private scene between them. The girls are in their human alt-mode to keep weight off him as Megatron hums "Baby Mine."

It's a lullaby their mother used to sing to them during her pregnancy and to help them sleep.

Even drugged to the gills, Megatron blankets them with his EM field, curling around them.

There are rising tensions within the faction, but (for once) Starscream and Soundwave are in an agreement: Keep the kids safe.

Megatron's personal quarters are absolutely a fortress in and of itself, but outside the girls watched by the cassettes or Starscream's trine. Between Thundercracker's heavy weight and willingness to cook a mech in their own fluids with a deadly hug and Skywarp's feral brutality to pitch himself against everyone and anyone, very few will directly make a move against them. Soundwave had built his cassettes upon the principles of stealth, espionage, and sabotage. There is very little that can escape Soundwave’s notice.

Megatron will want the names of the mechs that attempted anything towards his girls when he recovers.

The second scenario is honestly much more dark with all the political intrigue involved, especially if the girls do have a Cybertronian root-mode with a human alt-mode.

Autobot High Command would be deadlocked on how to handle them. The only thing they can agree on is not to send them back to Earth. Vehemently.

The girls are far too high-risk to fully leave alone, especially with major players of Decepticon High Command still out there that will use them as a focal point to rally the remaining faction. Not to mention the many interested parties back on Earth that would love to get their hands on living, breathing amalgamations between Man and Machine, especially with citizenship up in the air...

With exile off the table, the options are quietly executing them, political bonding, or indefinite imprisonment.

I think it would be Optimus that allows them to visit their father as Megatron's last rites. It would twist the knife between old enemies' wounds, especially with Optimus witnessing a tender moment of Megatron with his girls as the defeated Warlord privately comms the Autobot leader as he quietly sings to his terrified children:

:: I have one last request. ::

:: You've made it already. ::

:: Think of it as an extension, Prime. Should you choose to execute them as well, then let them die with me. Let them have that comfort. No matter how paltry it is. ::

[vinciwolf]

First Time

Lyle Wainfleet x (fem)Reader

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, virginity loss, fluff, female reader, (just like my last fic, y/n isn’t specified as human or Recom in this so have fun imagining whatever u like).

Just something short and sweet I wanted to do for Lyle. ^w^

You were flat on your back. The fingers that undid the buttons to your dress brushed your skin as one by one a little bit more of your chest was exposed. Your heart pounded steadily in your nervous state, ears pricking with warmth. You tried to quell the radiant heat below by rubbing your thighs together but it was futile to hide your innocent excitement. Again, you tried to calm your pounding heart. Slow breaths. It was hard as you sat here getting undressed by Lyle’s gentle touch, neck still burning and wet from the trail of kisses left a moment ago in a wake of lust and eagerness.

When you felt the slight hike of your skirt with ready hands sliding up your hips, you hitched and pinched your legs, much to your regret when the Recom pulled away. You scrunched your face, inwardly cursing yourself. But he only glanced at you with tender concern before sitting you upright in his lap. He knew this was your first time. It was his first time too, well, in this new body at least…

So, here you sat, shy yet impatient while the Corporal took his time with you, continuing to unfasten every button to your dress. And despite the many leaps in your chest as these new sensations stirred your nerves, your folds cried with want, leaking into your panties. You couldn’t help but press your heat into the large thigh that propped you up, making your lower half tremble with pleasure.

Your nipples tightened to the cool air as your chest was uncovered slowly. The top half of your dress now parted away, weighed down by its buttons to reveal the drop of your cleavage. You held your breath when Lyle’s hands disappeared past the v-line he made in your dress to caress your soft mounds, feeling the lax tissue pillow under his fingers as he explored you. Then his palms squeezed your breasts, pulling them out roughly. They drooped in the dim, midnight air of the room that had you whimpering when the hands at your chest massaged and pulled your tits. The Marine admired your beauty with hungry eyes causing your cheeks to bloom with warmth.

Your folds pooled with arousal you couldn’t contain anymore, clit unsatisfied with your sorry attempt at modestly barely rubbing the leg that sat under you. That was when you couldn’t stand it anymore. You clenched and dragged yourself harder into the Recom’s muscular thigh, jean fabric itching just right into your little nub, for a cry-inducing friction that left you breathless. At this point, your hips did the moving as your desires took charge of your body.

Hearing your voice panting near his ear, the way your cunt pushed into his leg, left Lyle losing control over his patience. The Corporal knew you wanted this just as badly as he did, but you needed to be ready. Leaning down, he took a breast by the lips. Fire split in your core when his hot mouth engulfed your nipple, causing your breath to become even more scattered and uneven while you sobbed, hands cupping the base of his neck. He curved his tongue and suckled hard, cock straining from hearing the cute, pathetic noises escaping your body as you rocked against him. He wanted to be inside you so bad.

Letting go of your breast with a pop, Lyle pushed you into the bed and hoisted your legs over his hips, making your dress pile over your stomach and bare your legs fully in front of him. He could see a dark spot bleeding through the fabric of your panties causing his eyes to darken. The tip of his length pressed into the zipper of his pants like his cock wanted to detach itself and leap free to bury its way deep into your hole. Leaning on his haunches, he undid his belt and unsheathed his girth, much to his relief as it curved out of its painful confinement.

Taking a gander at his cock, your cheeks filled with a painful blush, knowing that would be inside you soon.

Lyle then thumbed the band of your panties before hooking them with his fingers.

"Lift your hips for me." He winked.

You covered your face with your hands to hide the massive blush that kept growing. Lifting your hips, the small bit of fabric was removed and discarded, leaving you bare as the Recom spread your legs before him. A fang peeked while he smirked at the glistening mess. It was everywhere, smeared over your folds and inner thighs.

Then Lyle leaned down and kissed you hard. You felt his hips nudge into the apex of your thighs. Adrenaline spread through your belly as his length rubbed down your lower stomach until the round tip merged with your slit, ready to commit this act of passion and dive forth. Your knees shook and braced around the Recom’s waist while the sweat under your pits became unbearable. Then he pressed his lips to your cheeks deeply. His nose brushed your skin before he traveled to your jawline and kissed there, then he was at your neck and kissed again. The kisses lingered, burning a line into your soul.

"Is this ok?" He asked.

You hid in his shoulder, nodding a 'yes’ with fingers finding hold against the plains of his strong back. He caged you and made you feel secure underneath him. A soft, breathy 'relax, babe. I got you' passed over your ear as hands took the back of your thighs and held you firm, a thumb caressing a tiny part of your leg that felt magnified like blistering fire.

Then there was a ring of burning pressure as your slit stretched for the cock descending into your walls. Your nails dug into Lyle's back, breathing steadily trying to stay relaxed while you took the shaft inch by inch, but it was hard when it only got thicker toward the base making you see stars.

When the whole thing bottomed out, you felt so round and heavy down there it made your eyelids flutter shut while your mouth hung open, the corners tugging up in a tiny, blissed smile.

"I'm so proud of you, babygirl~" Lyle sighed into your ear. "Now hold on tight."

.

.

.

Tags: @thegrandimperfection @blue-bluee @mileswifefr @deliwrites @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @avatar-lover @justasimps-blog @mechformers @whereireid @whxre-bxby @miscellaneousfantasies

[thepenultimateword]

Pennnnn

Can I have a mermaid who gets really injured in a storm being saved by a Fisher and them falling in love :3 🧜‍♀️💜

My first contribution to our fantasy writing community!

Sorry, it took me so long to write this, Crewe! And I'm also sorry it's a little short, and we haven’t gotten to any sort of falling in love yet. I just really wanted to post and apparently I have to make a ridiculous amount of series. Also, my stupid brain always insists on going slow burn, so stay tuned for the actual falling in love part.

CW: Injuries, mention of captivity, implied abuse

The mermaid awoke to calloused hands.

Everything ached or burned, but for a moment, the warmth of those fingers, pressed flat against her back and clavicle as they turned her over, steadied her.

Then she woke up a little more.

Everything came crashing back, and she lurched out of the stranger's grip with a loud screech, only catching glimpses of tanned skin and sunbleached curls before flopping sideways off the rocks. Instead of splashing into the familiar depths of the ocean, her shoulder bashed into stone, and her belly scraped the gritty bottom of the shallows. Her face barely breached the surface and her body become loosely wedged between her previous resting place and another large boulder.

"Hey, hey, hey," a deep voice soothed. "It's ok. You're ok. Just stay still. You're a little....well... You're fine, but some bandages might do you some good. "

Mermaid blinked the sea salt from her eyes, taking in the speaker's rolled sleeves, braided beard, and tied-back hair. As she eyed his rolled trousers her heart sank.

Human.

She wanted to flee. If she couldn't flee, she wanted to die.

Her eyes flicked wildly around at her surroundings, much different in the morning light than they had seemed in the gray violence of the night before. The majority of her captors’ ship had already been swept back into the sea's magnificent embrace, but little splinters swirled around in the tidepools, just as caught in the garden of protruding rocks as she.

The mermaid twitched her tail against the rocks and instantly regretted it as a sharp pain coursed up her spine, followed by a dull ache beneath her patchy scales.

"Does it hurt much?" the man asked in a tone so concerned it made her sick. Once she believed in the sweet murmurs of humans, so seemingly weak and pathetic in the middle of the treacherous sea. No longer.

The mermaid gave a short hiss, baring the remains of her sharp, serrated teeth in warning.

A few days ago, when she gave her prayer, supplicating two gods had seemed the best choice. She figured if she couldn't inspire Cu's mercy, then maybe she could invoke Myr's terrible wrath. But...perhaps she got the words wrong. Or maybe her devotion thus split had been judged untrue--the elders had always encouraged her to choose only one. Or, and this felt painfully close to the truth, maybe she was so pathetic even the divine could not help her.

There seemed no other reason why she would escape one captor only to end up directly in the hands of another.

"Easy," the man said, holding out his hands in front of him. His palms were not particularly pretty, the skin hardened into thick hills and peeled in certain places, but they were tanned and strong. Another seaman. Even worse.

If only she'd ducked overboard when she had the chance instead of letting her temper get the better and trying... What had she been trying?

Perhaps it didn't matter. Even if she had ended up properly in the depths, she wasn't sure how well she would have got along. Back on the ship, she could barely move from one side of the tank to the other, let alone a whole ocean. On top of that, she didn't even know where she was.

Leftover sunshowers pattered softly against her bruised and bleeding back, but on account of its tenderness, they might as well have been needles. She kept her teeth firmly born, but her eyes brimmed with hot tears.

"Hey." The seaman crouched in front of her, water wetting the cuffs of his trousers, and tilted his head a little to the side to meet her gaze. "It's a lot."

"A lot" was an understatement. A lot was simply being shipwrecked and found by a stranger. It did not encapsulate the sheer terror of that stranger being a monster. If her throat didn't feel quite so raw, she may have shouted as much. Instead, her glaring silence allowed room for the man to continue.

"I'll have you know...I'm just as scared of you as you are of me." He averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. "But I can't leave you here. As much as my good sense would like me to." His cerulean eyes turned back on her firmer. "I'm going to get you out, ok? Please don't bite me."

The mermaid had the sudden, defiant urge to sink her teeth directly into his reaching arm, but her better judgment stopped her short. She was stuck with this human whether she came quietly or not. If she'd learned anything from her time with her previous captors, if her situation seemed bad now, fighting back could make it so much worse. She may as well go along with him until she came up with a clear means of escape.

Once again, those rough hands found a home against her bruised skin, this time barely resting on her hips. His attempt at shimmying her loose sent flashes of white across the mermaid's vision, and her head dropped face-first beneath the surface.

"Worse than it looks, huh," he said, voice muffled by the water. The mermaid dug her chipped nails into the rocks and sand and braced herself for another try, but instead, the man returned to full height.

Should she be upset or relieved? It wasn't like she wanted him here, but she also didn't have any confidence in getting out on her own, especially with her tail in such bad condition.

She laid her cheek against the ground and watched his strange human feet as he moved to her side, sending up puffs of shell and sediment with each step. He crouched again, strong hands dipping under the surface and working under the edge of the stone on her right. His muscles corded and an instant later, he'd heaved the stone to the side. The next instant he'd scooped the mermaid up into his arms.

"Get away!" she shouted, shoving weakly against his warm chest. Her hands left wet prints on his cotton shirt.

"You talk." The notable effort to not make it an exclamation did not make it any less so.

"I'm not an animal!"

"I-I know."

Maybe it was true. Maybe she wasn't simply an animal. Maybe she was a turn of fate. A treasure to greed on. Or maybe, from the paling hue of his skin, she was as much a monster to him as he was to her. None were good predicaments.

She gave another halfhearted shove, but the pain wracking her body was too much to try any additional exertion. Eventually, she let herself go limp in his grasp and stared dead-eyed past his profile at the passing sky. It couldn't be helped if she caught a few glimpses of his stupid big head in between.

As he picked his way back to shore, his eyes searched the beach, as if suddenly apprehensive of his surroundings. His large arms crushed her, seemingly subconsciously, tighter to his chest. Her nose came just short of pressing against his throat, assaulting her with scents of sea salt and cod.

His next words slipped out as only a murmur, almost as if to himself. "Let's get you somewhere safe."

Edit:

Aaah! I forgot my master Taglist! Here it is!

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees s @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer mer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolaxe @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee