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ellecdc · 1 month

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DONT TEASE ME WITH PLATONIC BARTY AND BIG BRITHER SIRIUS STOP IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEE 🪩

okay so this accidentally ended up being almost 5.5k words??? whoopsie daisy.

this concept was a collaboration with @unstablereader and also intertwined a few requests for best friend Barty, big brother Sirius, and poly!moonwater hurt comfort!!

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who was bitten over the winter hols

CW: Best Friend Barty (i.e., swearing, chaos, slight insanity), Big Brother Sirius (i.e., coddling, bad cop, certified dumbass), swearing swearing swearing, slight muggle blasphemy, description of wounds/blood/injury, discussion of Sacred 28 Pureblood Families, etc etc etc - hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Barty Crouch Junior was a plethora of dichotomies and contradictions.

He was a good friend and a bad son. He was a smart boy who made horrible ideas. He was a rational person with unreasonable reactions. He was a menace and very reliable. He was a good lay and a bad boy.

Barty liked that about himself though; he liked that no one ever knew what to expect when it came to Bartemus Crouch Junior.

Though, he supposed to those who knew him, it would have been completely predictable for him to have stayed at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. Maybe he should have gone home – really surprised everyone then.

His nightly routine of trying to incendio Daily Prophet articles of his father with nonverbal and wandless magic was interrupted by an awkward thump on his dorm room door.

“Come in?” Barty called awkwardly, unsure who might be at his door seeing as his friends were all home for the holidays and the staff here tended to avoid him like Dragon Pox.

The doorknob began to rattle but it sounded as if the person on the other side of the door was struggling to turn it.

“Salazar’s saggy balls. WHAT!?” He seethed as he ripped the door open, determined to teach whoever was stupid enough to bother him a lesson when he came face to face with you.

Except...except you were crying, and bloody, and so pale.

“Treasure!?” Barty squawked, awkwardly catching you as you began to slide down the door frame which you were leaning the entirety of your weight on.

“Barty...I-” you started before a pained sob tore through your teeth. “I need help.”

“What happened?” Barty asked breathlessly, moving you from the door to his bed without your help after your left leg gave out on you.

“Barty...”

“What. Happened. Y/N?” He demanded.

“Barty, you cannot- cannot tell Reg and Remus. Pl- hnggh - please promise me you won’t tell them.”

“Tell them what, Treasure? What’s wrong!?” Barty pressed, beginning to panic when his bedding quickly became saturated with your blood.

“Promise me!” You shrieked, your voice carrying the most clarity since you had arrived.

“Okay! I promise!” Barty agreed readily. You didn’t seem convinced, however.

You shakily held your pinky out to him and stared intensely at him. “Promise me that y-, that you will not tell Remus or, or Regulus.”

Barty looked between your eyes and your pinky before finally interlocking your pinky with his. “I promise I will not tell Remus or Regulus.”

More tears fell as you began pulling your long winter robes off. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt and long trousers, but Barty could tell most of the bleeding was coming from your leg. Your fingers were shaking too much as you unsuccessfully tried unbuttoning your trousers, so Barty silently asked for your permission before undoing the button and zip for you.

You pulled the pants to your knee to expose a large...werewolf bite on your left thigh.

“Treasure.” Barty breathed out horrified, looking back up at you with tears in his eyes. “What...what happened? No, I ... I can see what happened. How did this happen?”

“I...I just-”

And you passed out.

“No! No no no. Nononononono.” Barty chanted as he tried to rouse you awake.

“Okay Barty, come on, think. You didn’t achieve all twelve O.W.L’s for naught.” He berated himself, lying you down on his bed and pulling your trousers the rest of the way off.

He turned you onto your right side and tried elevating your leg to stop the blood flow after he realized a simple episkey was not going to close the wound.

He realized that the reason you’d been struggling to open the door was that your wrist appeared to be broken, and you’d been leaning onto the doorframe to keep your weight off of your injured leg. That he could fix with an episkey, so at least he wasn’t completely useless.

His sweet, sweet Treasure. Bitten. By a werewolf!? Your parents...

Oh gods, your parents.

That’s why you were here.

You couldn’t go back home, not as a werewolf; your parents would kill you. The only thing worse to a Sacred 28 Family than a dead daughter would be a werewolf one.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Any why couldn’t he tell Lupin and Regulus!? Lupin was probably the only person who could actually help you right now. Barty hated that – hated that someone else could help you and he couldn’t – but he also loved that you had people who loved you and could help you.

Fucking fuck, he was supposed to be burning moving pictures of his father right now, not trying to bring his best friend back from the brink of death.

“That’s enough Treasure, you need to wake up.” He muttered, shaking you by your shoulders gently. When that still didn’t work, he cast a quick rennervate.

You groaned in pain and tried rolling onto your back.

“No, Y/N, you need to stay like this. I need you to tell me what happened.”

You moaned again and turned back towards him; eyes shut tight in pain.

“I...I needed to leave I, I – ugh.”

“Okay, okay. So you left, that much I can understand. How’d you get bitten?”

“I didn’t, I didn’t know it was there until it was too late, Barty. I swear it. I was following the trail behind my-my house and it just appeared! I fell back- backwards onto my arm when it lunged and I apparated once I realized what was happening, but it was...it was too- too late.”

“Where were you trying to go?”

“The Potter’s.”

“And why can’t you go there now?”

You opened your eyes at that, and Barty felt his heart fall out of his ass at the amount of pain that spilled from your eyes that had nothing to do with any of your various physical injuries.

“Rem... Rem hates himself. He hates The Wolf, he ha- hates his lycanthropy; he thinks he is a m... monster and deserves nothing. Barty, he’ll hate me.” You broke into a sob at the end of your sentence and Barty was very close to joining you.

He didn’t think you were right at all, mind you; he thinks it’d be rather impossible for anyone to hate you, least of all Lupin who seemed completely lovesick for you and Regulus. He didn’t think it was worth your energy to argue with you about it though, seeing as he already pinky promised not to go to the lycanthrope or your other boyfriend about this.

He didn’t know what to do, though. He needed to close this wound and stop the bleeding, he needed to pilfer from the infirmary, he needed to pilfer the potions supply closet, and he needed to figure out how to help a werewolf. And he needed to do all of these things whilst somehow not leaving your side at all.

“I’m tired, Barty.” You murmured quietly, startling him from his internal panic.

“You can’t sleep, Treasure. Not until we close this wound and stop the bleeding.”

He pulled out his third year DADA textbook to find the chapter on werewolves.

“Dangerous creature this, loss of moral sense that, right then – powdered silver and dittany applied to a fresh bite wound.” Barty recited as he read off his textbook. He looked over to your wound, still oozing and bleeding, though the new angle and elevation did seem to be helping staunch the blood flow at least a little.

“Right... fresh enough I suppose.” Barty sighed, making you promise to stay awake long enough for him to raid the potions supply closet and the infirmary to get the necessary ingredients.

Barty had been feeling quite confident in his plans.

Except something was very, very wrong.

The dittany and powered silver bubbled slightly where it interacted with your blood and flesh but didn’t seem to be sticking to your wound at all; it seemed that it was just causing you to moan in agony as Barty uselessly tried spreading it over your leg.

“You’re sure it was a werewolf that bit you?” He asked again. Barty was certain that if you were feeling better, you would have kicked at him.

He wished you could have kicked at him.

“Yes, Barty.” You cried.

“Oh, Treasure, I’m sorry.” He lamented, putting down his bowl of useless silver paste and brushing sweaty hairs away from your forehead.

“Salazar, you’re burning up, Y/N.” He commented, cupping your heated and flushed face with his hand.

“I’m cold.” You argued, awkwardly trying to pull at his bedsheets to cover your arms. Barty hated to add more layers on you when your fever was this high, but he couldn’t really bring himself to deny you, either.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Barty needed help.

Unfortunately, Barty made you a promise.

Fortunately, there were ways around that.

Unfortunately, that meant having to resort to a fate worse than death.

“Oh! Hello there.” Mrs. Potter greeted Barty as she rounded the corner after being alerted by the house elf that there was a student at the floo. “Are you looking for Regulus?”

Barty adorned his most charming (and least maniacal) grin as he bowed politely to Mrs. Potter like the proper Pureblood he'd been beaten raised to be.

“Euphemia Potter – looking as smashing as ever.” He said before returning to his full height. “Actually, I’m here for the lesser Black brother today.”

Mrs. Potter narrowed her eyes at his comment but pursed her mouth as if fighting back a smile.

“Am I to assume you’re referring to Sirius, Barty?”

Barty sighed in admiration. “Smart and pretty, Euphemia; how do you do it?”

“I’ll be right back, Mr. Crouch.” Mrs. Potter called over her shoulder as she left the floo reception room. Barty quickly pulled out the charmed compact mirror he had connected to a hand mirror which he had set up beside you before he left. You were asleep and shivering violently, but you were alive.

Help is coming, Treasure.

“Oh.” Barty heard, causing him to close the mirror and look up to see a confused looking Sirius pausing mid-step into the room. “Sorry, I’ll go get Regulus for you.”

Barty scoffed derisively. “Oh, come off it Black – give the woman a little credit, yeah? I asked for you. Now let’s go.” He barked, turning towards the floo flame.

He turned back when he realized Sirius wasn’t following him.

“Hello??” He called sarcastically. “Did you not hear me? I said let’s go.”

Sirius looked Barty up and down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Why in the hells would I go anywhere with you?” Sirius asked bemusedly.

“Black!” Barty seethed. “I do not have time for this, we have to go now.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”

Barty sighed and looked down to the hells for patience or possibly extra strong demonic powers to get through this conversation with Sirius.

“Where is Regulus right now?”

Sirius considered Barty skeptically but answered, nonetheless.

“Upstairs with Remus.”

Barty looked at Sirius at that. “Is it safe to assume he is helping him recover from last night?”

Sirius’ face fell and he levelled Barty with a hard glare. “What the hell are you on about, Junior?”

“Black, please believe that there is absolutely nothing in this realm that I’d rather be doing than sitting here asking for your help but I’m here doing just that.”

“For what?”

Regulus was here, and Regulus was helping Lupin, which meant that Lupin was also here with his supernatural hearing. Barty made you a promise – he would not tell Regulus or Remus what has happened.

“I need your help, because I’ve found a lost Treasure that seems to be in some Trouble.” Barty explained slowly, praying to every god that Sirius would pick up on his not-so-subtle clues.

Sirius’ eyes stayed narrowed at Barty before they grew comically in understanding.

“Where is-”

“Not here.” Barty interrupted. “Grab your things and come with me.”

“I have so many fucking questions.” Sirius muttered as he stepped through the floo, somehow ending up standing in the Slytherin common room.

“Like?” Barty asked in a bored tone.

“How the hell did you manage to connect the floo network to the Slytherin common room?” He started, realizing that it probably wasn’t the most important question, but it seemed to take precedence in his mind.

Barty turned to sneer at Sirius, though his steps never faltered as he sped towards what Sirius could only assume was his dorm.

“Really, Black? I tell you that your future sister-in-law is in dire need of your help, and that’s what you’re- you know what? I’m not surprised. The floo network is easy to manipulate so long as you know how to dismantle ancient wards.” Barty explained dismissively.

Easy. Dismantle ancient wards. Sure.

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” He asked much more seriously. Most (though not all) of the contempt drained from Barty’s face as he stopped in front of a door.

“She...she was bitten.”

Sirius just stared dumbly at the absolute last person he imagined he'd be spending his morning with as he let that information process.

He wasn't given much time, however, as Barty quickly opened the door and disappeared into the room, clearly unbothered to see if Sirius was following him in or not.

“Treasure? Hey, hey; it’s okay. Look? I brought some help, okay? You’re alright.” He cooed at a curled-up form on his bed – your curled-up form.

“Oh, Trouble.” Sirius breathed out in disbelief, surveying your shaking and battered body before his gaze paused on your exposed thigh – clear as day was a large canine bite, still bleeding.

“Oh, my girl.” Sirius cooed, feeling like he might be sick at the sight of one of his favourite people in the world in so much pain. It was very different from post moon care with Remus; Remus was seasoned, he was prepared, they were prepared.

You looked like you were dying.

“What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked quickly, shaking himself and trying to force himself into action.

“Other than the very obvious werewolf bite?” Barty sneered. “She has a fever that won’t quit.”

“Take the blankets off.” Sirius ordered, earning him a whimper from your form.

“S’cold, Siri.” You whined.

“I know, Trouble, but you’re burning up.” He replied apologetically, pulling the blankets out of your currently much weaker grasp.

Barty looked like he was just as heartbroken as you were at the loss of the warmth, but clearly agreed with Sirius enough not to argue.

“Mean.” You pouted; eyes still screwed shut in pain.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He whispered, casting a quick auguamenti and glacius on a rag and placing it on your head, earning him another protesting groan from you.

“Why’s her leg still bleeding?” Sirius asked, eyes still on your face as he used the cloth to wipe away the sweat from your features. He quickly prepared two more rags and placed them on the back of your neck and your chest.

“I don’t know. I followed the instructions from our DADA textbook on werewolves – three tablespoons of powdered silver mixed with four tablespoons of dittany to create a paste. It did nothing but hurt her and aggravate me.” He admitted, sounding horribly dejected.

“Where’s the silver from?”

“Slughorn’s supply closet.”

Sirius groaned. “That’s why. The school buys the cheapest ingredients they can to keep costs low. That won’t be pure silver.”

“Well, where in the hells are we supposed to find pure silver then?” Barty groaned.

Of all the times for Sirius to not be at Grimmauld Place anymore – that place was teeming with pure silver.

Pure...

Toujours pur.

“Regulus.” Sirius whispered no louder than a breath. You didn’t seem to hear him, your lucid moment clearly over; but Barty did.

“I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.” He explained plainly, causing Sirius to groan.

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

Barty turned his face to glare at Sirius. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I heard you, Junior. So, what are we going to do then?”

Barty let out a long-suffering sigh. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”

Sirius’ brows furrowed and he cautiously lifted his hand to press the back of it to Barty’s head, checking for fever of his own. Barty aggressively swatted him away.

“Are you quite alright, Junior? Is this a stroke?”

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Black. Okay? Are you listening to my words?”

Sirius nodded at him as Barty grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and stared imposingly into his eyes. “I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – promised that sweet, lovely Treasure you call Trouble over there, that I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – would not tell Remus Lupin or Regulus Black. I promised her.”

Now, Sirius feels it’s important to note that it was currently maybe seven o’clock in the morning, and he’d only just stepped out of the shower after washing away a night of romping in the woods around Potter Manor with Moony as Padfoot last night to be told there was someone at the floo for him; in other words, he was fucking exhausted. And to add to that, he had one of his least favourite people tell him that one of the worst possible things happened to one of his favourite people. So, sue him for what he said next.

“I don’t understand.”

“Fucking son of a mother fucking cunt, I swear to that fucking muggle-religion-wizard-guy-that-caused-the-whole-brew-ha-ha-in-that-big-ass-muggle-tome I will shave that fucking head of yours and wear your hair as a wig; I cannot tell Lupin and Regulus.” Barty spat, though somehow managed to keep his voice low enough to not gain your attention.

“Yes, yes, yes. You promised her.” Sirius lamented. “You p- wait... you promised her. You promised her.”

“Thank Merlin and Morgana.” Barty groaned as fell to his knees in exhaustion, clearly more than thankful that Sirius had finally gotten it.

“I’ll be back.” Sirius announced and started towards the fireplace in the Slytherin common room in order to retrieve his brother.

Regulus looked up from the pages of his novel to survey Remus’ form again. His boyfriend laid on his back with his head propped up on two pillows and his eyes closed as the soft morning light filtered its way through the sheer curtains and painted his features in its warm glow.

Regulus knew Remus was likely exhausted and sore and perhaps feeling awfully sorry for himself right now, but Regulus wasn’t sure he ever looked more beautiful.

“You should take a picture; it’ll last longer.” Remus commented dryly, never bothering to open his eyes as a smile danced on his lips.

“Ha ha.” Regulus deadpanned, returning his gaze to his book with a blush taking over his face.

“You worry too much, love. I’m okay.”

“I know you’re okay.” Regulus argued.

“Yet you still worry?”

“Yet I still worry.”

Regulus heard Remus’ head turn against his pillow, and he looked back up to see Remus regarding him.

“Have you heard from her by chance?” Remus whispered as if fearing the answer he knew was coming.

Regulus knew it was you who Remus referred to; they’d been waiting quite impatiently for your owl for the past few days.

You had promised to write as often as you could - every day if possible – over the winter holidays. The last correspondence they had with you was four days ago as you told them of some family gathering at your home.

He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he could tell he was caught at the disappointed sigh from Remus.

“No, mon loup. I’m sorry.” Regulus admitted.

Remus let out another sigh and leaned his head back down on the pillows, squishing his eyes shut as if the pain of not knowing how you were was more painful than the current aching in his bones.

“Hey, Reg?” Regulus heard his brother call from the door.

“He’s awake.” Regulus called back simply.

“How’re you feeling, Moons?” Sirius asked, walking towards the end of the bed with his hands in his pocket.

“Been worse.” Remus answered.

“I...” Sirius started, cutting himself off with a sigh.

“Spit it out, Sirius. We’ve not got all day.” Regulus drawled and put his book down. He couldn’t stop his heart rate from picking up when he noticed Sirius’ discontent, however; sudden flashbacks of Sirius standing in Regulus’ doorway begging him to pack his things and leave with him bombarding his mind.

“What is it, Pads?” Remus asked, seeming to pick up on his friend’s anxiety as well.

“I need your help.” He admitted. “It’s...it’s Y/N.”

Remus sat up all too quickly and winced at the cracking of his back.

“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay?” He asked, trying to free himself from the bedding that Regulus had tucked him into hours earlier.

“No, well, yes...she-”

“Where is she?” Regulus whispered in horror.

“With Junior. At Hogwarts.”

Regulus relaxed slightly to at least know you were safe at Hogwarts and with Barty, though that raised more questions than answers for him.

“How do you know that?” Regulus asked, all the while Remus continued struggling to dress himself despite his various aches and pains.

“Junior told me.” Sirius admitted, finally taking pity on his friend and helping him dress whilst his boyfriend sat their uselessly.

“Why did he tell you? When did he tell you?”

“This morning!” Sirius barked, clearly growing agitated, “listen, I just-”

“What happened to her, Sirius?” Remus begged, finally taking a moment to catch his breath and stare at his friend imploringly. “What happened to her that Junior told you and not us?”

Sirius swallowed thickly before he answered.

“She was bitten, Rem.”

All colour drained from Remus’ face and Regulus sat stock still.

“Was it me?!” Remus asked through a choked sob. This seemed to snap Regulus out of his uselessness and he reached for Remus’ shoulder to squeeze it affectionately.

“No, no. Moony, no one was there last night. I swear it.”

“What...why do you need my help? What do you need?” Regulus asked quietly, standing to pull on his own jacket and retrieving his and Remus’ wands from the dresser.

“We can’t get the wound to close, and she’s got a wicked fever that we can’t bring down. She’s barely lucid, she's lost an insane amount of blood, and the silver at the school didn’t work to close it and-”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Remus agreed breathlessly.

“Why not?”

“Too costly to give pure powdered silver to a bunch of students who make throw away potions – they only use what works in the brew but not in practice.” Remus explained, groaning as he stood and quickly transfigured his suitcase into a cane on account of his hip after the transformation.

“So, you need pure silver? Like... the ring!” Regulus whispered, hastily ripping the Black Family signet ring from his thumb and passing it to Sirius.

“We need to go now. She can’t afford to lose any more blood, and it should have been closed immediately.” Remus pressed, making his way to the door albeit a little shakily.

Regulus was sick with worry; for you, your life, your future, your family, for Remus and how upsetting this must be for him as well, but something still wasn’t making any sense.

“Why did Barty tell you?” Regulus asked as they stepped through the floo into the Slytherin common room, making a mental note to ensure that it was closed before the rest of the students returned from winter holidays.

Sirius grimaced slightly and turned to look at his friend who he was supporting as they followed Regulus to the dorm room.

“She...she made him promise not to tell you guys.” Sirius admitted.

Remus’ steps faltered and Regulus turned, ready to help Sirius in catching him, only to notice that he wasn’t falling but rather had stopped walking all together.

“Why wouldn’t she want us to know?” Remus asked mournfully.

“I never did hear why.” Sirius admitted, encouraging Regulus forward with a nod of his head.

The three of them entered the room to find Barty sitting on a low stool beside you with his pinky interlinked with yours. Your eyes were still shut tightly and your breathing was shallow, but Regulus could hear Barty talking lowly to you and your occasional responses.

“I like that song about the fighter, the writer, and the ruler.” Barty murmured quietly to you.

Your brows twitched as you gritted out “it’s Soldier, Poet, King.”

“Ah, right you are, Treasure.” Barty responded, looking over his shoulder at the new additions to the room. “You always know everything.”

“How is she?” Sirius asked as he dropped the signet ring inside the mortar and pestle and traded seats with Barty who began to grind it into powder, and Regulus and Remus moved to stand near the end of the bed to take in your form.

“Hanging in there, Black.” Barty responded to Sirius, though he looked at Regulus as he said it.

Sirius must have noticed Regulus’ death glare being pointed at Barty and opted to intervene.

“Hey, Trouble?” Sirius asked you gently, brushing some of your damp hair away from your forehead. You hummed in acknowledgement without opening your eyes.

“Why didn’t you want Remus and Regulus to know, sweets?”

You whimpered as your face morphed into agony, eyes finally opening to look at Sirius through fat tears.

“Remus will hate me.”

Remus actually whimpered at that, clearly itching to move towards you, but not wanting to interrupt you.

“Why would he hate you, sweets?”

“He hates werewolves.”

Remus’ head dropped in shame as Regulus rubbed soothing circle into his back.

“But he loves you, Trouble.” Sirius pressed, watching Remus all the while.

“Not anymore.” You sighed in resignation, closing your eyes once more.

“Always, dove.” Remus insisted. You squeezed your eyes tightly as if you were trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t there.

“Do you hear me? I will always love you. There is nothing that could ever happen that would make me hate you, okay?” He carried on, slowly making his way to the other side of the bed in order to curl up behind you and pull your back into his front.

You whimpered, though Regulus was sure it was less from physical pain and more in distress.

“What about Reggie?” You cried as Sirius continued rubbing his thumb across your forehead.

“It’s almost ready.” Barty interrupted as he began measuring out the silver and dittany.

“Reggie thinks the world of you, dove.” Remus murmured into your hair, looking over at Regulus imploringly.

“You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, Trouble.” Sirius added. “We’re not going to let you do this alone.”

“It’s done, Treasure. We’re gonna fix you up.” Barty said as he made his way over, keeping his eyes trained on Regulus.

“Dovey, this is going to hurt an awful lot, okay? But you’re so brave, you’re so brave and then you’ll feel all better, okay?” Remus spoke into your hair, keeping you pressed tightly to his form as you began to struggle against his hold.

“Regulus, you need to be brave for her.” Sirius ordered, looking as severe as Regulus ever remembers his older brother being.

What could Regulus have ever done to make you think it was at all possible for him to feel anything but love for you?

How could Regulus ensure that you never thought such things again?

“I’m right here, amour. Okay? You’ve got four of us here who love you, we’re not going anywhere.” He pressed, moving to take over Sirius’ place on Barty’s short stool as Sirius positioned himself close to your feet.

“I don’t want to hurt.” You cried, breathing becoming slightly erratic as Remus added more pressure in keeping your arms pinned to your sides.

“I know, amour. It’ll be over soon, okay?” Regulus tried, brushing hair away and pressing his lips to your overly hot forehead.

“You’re so brave, Y/N. We’ve got you, okay? Such a brave girl, come on babylove, you’re okay.” Remus chanted, looking over at Sirius as he pinned your ankles to the bed and Barty transfigured a stirrer in an applicator.

“Please. I don’t want to.” You begged.

“You’re so brave.” Remus repeated, pressing his mouth to the top of your head as his own tears fell into your hair.

“Do it.” Regulus insisted, not wanting to prolong this anymore.

Regulus nearly dropped his wand in his haste to throw up a silencing charm around the dorm room as your screams bounced off the stone walls in time with Barty’s first swipe of the ointment.

Regulus couldn’t hear the words spilling from Remus’ lips, but he knew that he was whispering sweet encouragements to you as he cried in sympathy. Sirius looked to be using all his strength to keep your legs pinned down as you struggled, and his eyebrows furrowed on your behalf as well.

“You’re okay, amour. You’re okay.” Regulus insisted for both of your benefits, watching as Barty applied the last of the paste to your leg.

“Now what!?” Barty shouted over your agonized cries.

“Breathe dove, breathe. The pain will fade, just breathe.” Remus coached, rocking the both of you gently back and forth as you sobbed.

“You’ve done so well, amour, so well. Ma courageuse fille; you’re so brave.” Regulus praised, taking both of your hands into his and pulling them from Remus’ grasp to press kisses to your knuckles. “Tu as si bien fait, tu es la personne la plus forte que je connaisse.”

It took some time and many more encouragements before your sobs decreased into pitiful hiccups and whimpers as you looked towards Regulus.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked pitifully.

Regulus used his thumb to wipe away the tears that were still falling as Remus caressed your arms.

“It never even crossed my mind, cheri. I could never; non.” Regulus insisted.

“I’m so sorry, dove.” Remus whispered into your head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”

“Remus.” Sirius warned.

“Not because it makes her any less lovely, Sirius. But because she doesn’t deserve it.” Remus explained.

“I’m scared.” You admitted timidly.

“I know, dove.”

“Lucky for you, Trouble, you’ve got some seasoned professionals here.” Sirius added, nudging Remus’ foot.

“Can I start the animagus process now, Rem?” Regulus groaned, looking at Remus pointedly.

“I guess it wouldn’t be fair to make you sit out on full moons now.” Remus relented – he’d always hated the idea of putting the two of you in any undue danger, but he couldn’t deny Regulus of the two of you, nor you of Regulus; not when you would need him most.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Barty interrupted, moving his skeptical glance between the four of you. “You’re telling me that animagi can romp around with the likes of werewolves?”

Remus nuzzled his face impossibly further into your head as Sirius chuckled.

“Werewolves don’t care about animals. In fact, it makes them quite happy to have a ‘pack’.” Sirius explained.

Barty laughed conspiratorially. “Well, sign me the fuck up. Regulus, I’ll buy the first mandrake leaf; my treat!” He called as he grabbed his jacket and wand and headed for the door, likely heading to Hogsmeade for supplies in his excitement.

“Moony is not going to like him.” Sirius proclaimed flippantly, finally falling into a chair in exhaustion after Barty was gone.

“It’s not just about him, anymore.” Remus responded, pressing a kiss to your head. Regulus could tell your fever was reducing, though your cheeks were still flushed.

You had a lot to discuss; what happened, why it happened, and where to go from here. But for now, Regulus was just happy you were alive, currently safe, surrounded by people who loved you, and agreeable to him running you a bath.

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yandere-wishes · 6 days

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⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʀᴜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere!Dune Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 ♡ ｡゜

☾⋆ Paul Muad'Dib Atreides | پل معادب آتریدس

He dreamed of you again tonight. Something cathartic laying across the sands. Your touch haunts his skin, tracing scars and stars across his cheeks. He wonders what you see him as, something sacred or something exotic. Neither matters so long as you love him...

Paul's a volatile star, always one breath away from exploding. You're scared to touch the golden boy, lest your fingers return burned and your skull rattles with the echo of the cosmos. Still, it's hard to miss the devotion when his lips grace your knuckles. Hard to miss the cacophony of his heart as it reverberates across the desert.

ᯓ★ Leto Atreides | لتو آتریدس

Leto kisses butterflies into your shoulder, the taste of your skin feels like nectar on his tongue. His mind is always racing vying for your affection, your attention, your adherence. He traces your name across his star maps, each letter scribbled in a melancholy blue. You grace his chambers again tonight, it feels so wrong to only see your silhouette, to not feel your love bleeding like his does. He kisses you again, something akin to devotion. He needs to feel you under him again, needs to feel the softness of your flesh under his fingers. Something in him shatters, something inside him rearranges. You make him feel so erratic. Why must he love you this way?

𓆩⚝𓆪 Duncan Idaho | دانکن آیداهو

his lips taste of chaos, he pours his passion into you.

He feels you rattle inside his bones. Feels you coursing through his veins like unaltered spice. He's on another mission, laying in the sand and daubing your essence into constellations. He dreams of your fingers running over his muscles pushing adoration into him with a rusted kitchen knife. Your eyes never gaze at him for long. And yet each stare holds the weight of a nebula. He falls asleep to the phantom melody of your sweet voice. Dreaming of returning to you once more.

༺🕸༻ Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen | فید روتا هارکونن

There's a blade in his hand, blood marring pale fingers again. In every droplet, he sees your face. Phantom pains rampage when he hears your name. He dreams of you holding a knife to this chest, breaking the skin, and riving through muscle. Each night your ghost plagues him. Hurting him in all the ways he craves. He dubs you ecstasy, overdosing on everything he wants to do to you. Everything he wants you to do to him. He etches your name upon his bones, dedicating each open wound to you. He's going mad over the notion of you between his sheets, limbs entwined in a bloody mess. His tongue craves the taste of your flesh, starved like the trees on Arakkis. He must have you, he will have you.

-`𖤓´- Stillgar | ستیلگار

Stillgar's love is a desert tune, the winds rustling through the grains before the breaching of a sandworm. He falls harder and harder with each soulful gaze. He's spent his whole life chasing prophecies that he's forgotten how to wholly love something not written in blood and legend. He prays upon every star, that the maker has written your names together. That maybe some prophecy exists where you are to become his. He watches you sitting across the dunes, watching as the sunset pales compared to you. He whispers prayers beneath his breath, hoping you'll be with him soon.

݁˖☘︎ Gurney Halleck | گارنی هالک

He stiffens under your touch, under the sonority of your voice. His battered heart rattles in your presence, the air in his lungs freezes and he momentarily forgets that he is a soldier, a protector, a tool carved to fight for the Atreides. He's not meant to love, to crush, he's meant to kill, to teach, to follow. A weapon in every sense of the word. And yet he'd throw the world at your feet for a sliver of your attention. Gurney can't help the flames that grow within him. The raging pyro each night when he catches a rogue glimpse of you through the crack of your door. He wishes to kiss you, to hold you. To make you his in every way he knows he can't.

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biteofcherry · 4 months

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Entwined

Leshy!Steve Rogers x female reader; Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: You enter the woods hoping to gain the ancient being's mercy and help. However, you hadn't expected how truly powerful he is, or what price he will ask of you.

*Leshy is a deity of the forests in Slavic mythology. He rules over the forest and hunting.

warnings: sort of monsterfucking (though Leshy isn't exactly a monster, more of an eldritch entity); consensual, with a slight dash of dub-con; tiny bit of manipulation; smut;

Author's Note: This is a story written for Aspen's (@buckets-and-trees) Enchanted Birthday Festival. Early happy birthday, love! ❤️ I've been toying with the idea of Leshy!Steve for a bit and Aspen's challenge was the perfect opportunity to work on it. Especially since she loves forests, plants and all things wild nature 💚 Also a special shout out to @vonalyn who listened to me ramble about the hotness of Leshy!Steve when the idea first came to mind!

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

The trees surrounding you seemed to grow out their branches, weaving into thick, green walls closing up. Sunlight, just moments ago filtering through the tree crowns, had disappeared; but the dots of luminescent fireflies flickered on, filling the space with a deceptively warm glow.

You looked around, seeking for a path, or entrance through which you might escape, if you chose to. There was none. Within seconds you found yourself trapped in the depths of the ancient forest, with a being whose mercy you came to beg for.

When about an hour ago you stepped into the woods, you were bracing yourself for the sense of being watched, perhaps hunted. You haven’t considered how closely in contact with the powers of nature you’d come.

Your steps never faltered as the soft carpet of juicy grass beneath your feet seemed to grow more resilient the deeper into the woods you went; green straws springing back from being crushed under your shoe. The further you went, however, the dewy emerald grew sparse, shrinking into rich soil scattered with shards of bark, little leaves and pillows of moss.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the branches, casting glowy direction into the sacred altar hidden in the belly of the wilderness. It felt so peaceful, so relaxing, that you’d gladly sink into the shades of green and speckles of gold.

If not for the pounding of your worried heart, which knew that you were searching for more than reprieve.

Had you known what awaited, you’d listen to your heart’s anxious patter and run away.

But you were determined. Though your grandma would probably call it simple stubbornness.

You didn’t enter the woods to forage, nor to roam it to fill your soul with happiness. No, your feet carried you forward to face the greatest of dangers and beg for mercy.

Not only for yourself, but for the village and people who lived in fear, but still refused to abide by the ancient laws. Proud and focused on ways to increase wealth, they forgot there’s more in the world than just gold and war.

Powers mightier than any army. Beings greater and more dangerous than any king.

When wolves ripped to shreds one of the lumberjacks, everyone thought it to be a tragic accident. When two other people disappeared in the woods, never returning, others came up with ideas of them running away. Then a mother was seen screaming as wolves dragged her body into the forest. The child that followed, crying after its mum, disappeared. A day later a small fawn started prancing around the garden by the empty now household.

Still, people refused to bow to the entity that could be behind all of this, or at least held the power to end this madness. Or so you hoped.

Having packed a big wicker basket of offerings - jars of golden honey, cheese wrapped in paper, strings of colorful beads and pearls, folded silk, dried exotic fruit you got from the market - you carried it deep into the woods, to place them on the long forgotten altar where your ancestors paid their respects to the guardian of the forest and nature.

Leshy.

You expected to find the ancient, stone altar, with a deformed statue overgrown with moss. The plan was to lay your offerings there, spend some time bowing down and praying for mercy, then returning to the clueless village.

For a few beats it went like that. The birds still chirped, leaves rustled softly in the wind, your offerings laid motionless on the slab of stone.

Then, suddenly, ivy vines weaved up, covering the stone and your produce in a thick cocoon. The earth rumbled and melted, swallowing the altar whole.

Startled, you took a shaky step back and lost your balance, falling onto your butt. A split of a second when your gaze looked up at the darkening sky and when you returned it forward, he was already standing in front of you.

Whenever you thought of Leshy, no particular image came to mind. You always thought the creature to be an entity beyond human imagination.

He was that, but also… not.

He reminded a human man, but only at first glance.

Much taller, with shoulders broader than the blacksmith’s (whom you always thought to be the biggest man alive). His complexion was fair, but the veins in his arms were jewel green. His hair and beard seemed cast from various shades of gold, intertwined with russet bronze and chestnut reddish. Delicate, tiny vines crawled up his cheeks and along his forehead; like intricate tattoos.

From the thick mane of his silky looking hair sprouted majestic antlers. Thick and sturdy, their dark color with filaments of gold shining through. His eyes, when you met them, were a striking shade of blue-green. Rare and iridescent, like ponds bathed in the light of dawn.

“It’s been a while since a human has come to me.”

The entity’s voice was deep and low, both dangerous and soft, like a purr of a bear or a jungle cat.

“Are you Leshy?” You swallowed nervously.

“I’ve been called that, yes.” When he grinned, amused, the filigree vines on his body glowed luminescent.

“And you are?” He asked, courtly.

When you whispered your name, he leaned forward, bending slightly and outstretching his hand for you to take. As you slipped your shaky fingers into his palm, you felt the pulsing warmth seep through you. It reminded you of the sun-heated earth beneath bare feet.

As he helped you stand up, your gaze drifted up his body. You noticed that while most of his skin looked like any human’s flesh, a stripe along his left calf and thigh seemed textured like bark. A combination of moss and vines formed a fitting coverage around his narrow hips; yet you still caught the sight of a green vein slithering down his chiseled abdomen.

More gold-glowing, floral-like tattoos appeared ingrained into the skin along his ribs. Skin on top of his right shoulder looked to be made of bark, just like on his leg.

As much as he looked unworldly, you also found him majestic.

Beautiful, as nature itself.

“Those who know me, call me Steve.” He said, holding your hand in his and not letting you step away. “It's a shortened and funnily deformed version of Svyatobor.”

Lost in his eerie blue eyes, it took you a longer moment to realize what his name meant.

Breath hitched in your chest, your pupils widened as you stared up at him. All this time you believed Leshy is a creature brought to life and given a purpose by a god. That’s what all the legends suggested. It didn’t occur to you, it's a deity itself.

A god of the forest.

After a moment of complete stupor, shock gave way to a flash of fear. You bowed your head and started to fall onto your knees, to pay proper respect. However, his hand still holding yours pulled you up.

“None of that is necessary.” He assured you.

Though when you tipped your head up to look at him, Leshy’s gaze slid down your body in a slow, assessing study.

“At least not in that sense,” he murmured, licking his lips.

His eyes flicked back to yours. The stark blue pulsing with more green specks than before; as if his body came to life the same way nature sprung back as the snow melted away.

You felt a rush of heat through your veins at the suggestive implication of his words.

“What have you come here for, little fern?”

“To beg for mercy for my village.” Once again, you lowered your gaze. “People have been disappearing and being hurt. Swallowed by the forest or its creatures. I plead for no more blood to be spilled.”

Steve’s face betrayed no sign of irritation. For a split of a second you thought you saw a flash of sunlit amusement in his irises, but no mockery followed. He studied you for a long moment, not saying a word.

When he moved, it was slow and nonthreatening. You still startled, though perhaps it was at the loss of contact as his hand gently released your fingers.

He walked over to where the ground swallowed the altar with your offerings. It was only then that you realized a thick carpet of clovers had filled the space where the table had been. Delicate leaves tilted toward Steve’s legs, brushing against him with the softest of rustles, as if they were purring for him.

“You brought me honey, which you poured out of the goodness of your heart. But don’t you know that our wild bees’ honey is sweeter?” Steve asked, walking barefoot through the small field of clovers back toward you.

He stepped even closer this time and you felt the unique warmth radiating from him. A little stifling, like the humidity of the forest soaked in rain that was evaporating in the high summer sun.

It was making you dizzy in a very pleasant way.

“You gave me expensive fabrics, but nothing feels as soft and luxurious as petals of early spring’s flowers.” He circled you, like an animal may circle its prey. “None of your colorful beads shine as bright as drops of dew in the moonlight.”

“I-” What were you supposed to say? You didn’t have much and what you gave away was a big sacrifice in terms of your day to day survival.

You also didn’t think Leshy would be pleased, if you brought seasoned meat. He was, after all, a protector of wild animals. That sort of disrespect may have killed you on the spot.

Suddenly, you felt his hand brush along your waist. A light, fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt down your spine.

“Moreover, you try to barter a single basket for dozens of lives.” Steve stopped in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head in shame, feeling the burning tears gather beneath your eyelids.

He was right and you didn’t think of that when you were packing your basket. It made you feel helpless, that you had nothing else to offer.

“Don’t be.” Steve tilted your chin up with the pads of his fingertips. His gaze was soft, glinting sincerity.

“You still did more than any other human has for decades. I’m just pointing out that a life can be compared in cost to another life, nothing else. No riches equal a heartbeat.”

You understood the value, agreed with it completely. But it made the situation look unsolvable. The fate of your village was doomed to go through horrors, since there was no other way to barter for it.

Then you registered the warmth of Steve’s fingers still holding your chin. His thumb angled to rub along your lower lip. You were in the hands of a powerful deity. Steve may have appeared nonthreatening, but he was still an ancient entity demanding a sacrifice.

No riches equal a heartbeat. You had a heartbeat. A rapidly fluttering one, at the moment; bouncing against the bars of your ribcage in fear of being ripped from it.

“You mean-” You swallowed a bile rising in your throat. “My life for theirs?”

You wanted to help your village, to help people in general. That need to care and nurture have always been so deeply ingrained in you. But you wanted to live! You wanted to experience feelings and wonders, joys and losses. You weren’t ready to meet the end so soon, so unexpectedly. The two needs - to help and to survive - were clashing in violence.

Steve’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. Since he was the only comfort available at the moment, you leaned into his touch. A soothing shush spilled from his lips as he caught your panicked gaze and locked it with his.

“I’m not thirsty for blood, little fern.” He assured you. “I long for company.”

Somehow, looking into his eyes and sinking into the warmth his closeness provided, you felt the fear subsiding. Slowly, still leaving instinctive distrust, but it eased away.

“You want a friend?” You blinked, a little confused.

Of course you understood what he meant the moment he said it, but a voice of reason wouldn’t accept the fact this beautiful, powerful being wanted to bed you. Out of all the things a deity may demand, fucking an unimpressive mortal like you shouldn’t be on the list.

Steve laughed at your question, genuinely amused.

Instantly, choirs of birds joined his mirth in a tinkling melody that carried through the forest.

“No.” Steve shook his head; smile-caused crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes and the filigree vines along his skin curled.

“I’ve got friends. You would meet them, if you stayed.” It surprised you, teasing your curiosity about what other beings roamed these forests.

Your thoughts didn’t stay focused on the matter for long. Not when Steve’s hand slid down the column of your neck, his other arm weaving around your waist and pulling you close to his body.

Very close. Even through the fabrics of your skirts and corset you felt the hard planes of his muscles against the softness of your body. Your hands landed on his chest, at first in an attempt to brace yourself to perhaps fight him off, but any force to push away dissipated. Instead, your fingertips were tingling.

Steve’s breath teased your skin as he leaned down, trailing his lips along your jaw.

“I want intimacy. Passion. And devotion.” He murmured, gripping the back of your neck as his other hand dipped lower to squeeze the flesh of your bottom.

Abruptly, your whole body tensed and you gasped when something coiled around your ankles. Thin and tickling, possibly an ivy vine. It curled along your legs, reaching upwards. Teasing your skin with a brush of leaves and forcing your legs slightly apart.

Steve’s lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I wish to splay you on the moss and have it soak up your sweet juices as I play with your pretty cunt.”

You jerked in his embrace, but your core ignited. Heat pooled low in your abdomen, spreading down in a quick wave and filling your folds.

“I want to stretch you on my cock and have you call me your god not out of fear, but the pleasure I give you.” The vines that weaved around your legs didn’t reach far up your thighs, but if they had, your wetness would coat the delicate leaves.

“I want to fill you, until you bloom flowers and berries.”

Breathing became hard as the images filled your head; though you doubted it was a trick of his, more your own imagination eagerly supplying possibilities Steve words enticed.

When Steve unexpectedly released you and took a step back, you shivered as if you were dropped into a cold cave. Deprived of light and warmth.

He appeared more inhuman as he stretched to his full height and loomed over you.

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

Shaken from the daze Steve’s proximity and dirty words have caused, you faced the deal he was proposing with a clearer mind.

You’d be bound to the forest as long as Steve wanted to keep you, having to abandon your human life and plans. But you would be alive. And so would the villagers, some of whom were your friends.

You chanced one more look at the wall of branches and vines, briefly wondering if he’d let you go had you refused. Probably. But it was uncertain what awaited your village, or any other, if you backed out.

Taking a deep breath, you turned back to Steve. You gripped the fabric of your skirt to cover the nervous shaking of your fingers.

“Yes,” the word rolled out on your tongue like a faint whisper, but he heard it.

His eyes shimmered with tempting joy, like the reflection of sunlight on the rippling sheet of a lake. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you, his hands on your hips.

“I’ll be good to you, my little fern.” Tip of his nose nudged along yours, warm breath softening your lips into compliance.

When he kissed you, it felt as if berries burst on your tongue, filling your mouth with sweet flavor.

Your hands traveled up his arms, clutching his shoulders. The one covered in bark provided a new, unique sensation. It grazed your fingertips, but also felt grounding. He didn’t have to pull you closer, your body turned pliant on its own volition.

Steve swallowed your gasp, gripping your hips tighter, as thick vines of ivy rapidly wound around you. They covered you whole, like they had that stone altar before. It felt scary and suffocating, but as soon as the cocoon of greenery swallowed your forms fully it burst apart; leaves scattered around in a fountain.

You broke the kiss, tipping your head away and looking around. You were no longer in the same spot. You were in no recognizable place, to be exact.

If you could find a name for it, the heart of the forest would be it.

Light green grass spread around in a thick carpet, with patterns of bluebells and lilies of the valley. Graceful, tall birches circled the place, their silvery leaves catching chunks of sun rays. By a spot where wild rose bushes weaved an intricate arch stood a big bed. Easily high at hip height, woven tightly of green moss and periwinkles.

Steve didn’t give you much time to admire. With a firm push of his hand he tilted your head back towards him. Kept cupping your cheek as he kissed you again, more urgently this time. Demanding.

He released you to tug on your clothes, doing a swift job with layers of your skirts, but grumbling a bit when trying to untie your corset.

“Won’t need that anymore here, little fern,” he purred as your breasts spilled out.

Then he was picking you up, big hands gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you easily. He sat on the bed, slowly easing you down until you were standing between his spread legs.

It was only then that you realized the coverage around his hips was gone, leaving him exposed in all his glory.

You couldn’t help peeking down. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you stared at the impressive size of him. Your mouth filled with the aftertaste of berries and your own saliva as his cock twitched upwards.

Steve’s hands roamed over your body, exploring your curves and lines with utmost fascination. He didn’t hesitate leaning forward to capture a stiff nipple into his mouth, sucking eagerly. His antlers gave you a scare as they brushed so close to your skin, but not once did his movement cause you pain.

Feeling a little bolder, you slipped one of your hands between the roots of his antlers and into his hair. They felt soft and silky. Your other hand gripped the top of his shoulder; the one where bark printed into your palm in a sensation you were finding more and more pleasant.

As Steve pulled back slightly, you slipped your fingers from his hair and across his face, mapping out contours and scratching through his beard. He gripped one of your legs under your knee and pulled it up, placing your foot on the bed and spreading you obscenely. His eyes darkened, something wolfish glinting in them as his gaze settled on your puffed, wet folds.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he demanded in a raspy voice.

The hand on your calf kept caressing and squeezing your flesh, while his other fisted his cock as your fingers dipped between your thighs.

None of your lovers ever expressed desire to see you pleasure yourself, but Steve’s gaze was so heated you didn’t feel shy. Quite the opposite, somehow it felt so easy and natural; even more arousing as Steve licked his lips in unmasked hunger.

“Let me taste you. I bet you’re sweeter and richer than any honey.”

You moaned, pushing two fingers inside and pumping them in and out a few times. When you brought your glistening digits to his lips, Steve licked them in a broad stroke of his tongue then took them into his mouth. His greedy sucking had your clit pulsing wildly.

“Delicious,” he hummed in delight, “and so ready for me, aren’t you?”

Swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pulled you over his lap. Your gasp at the sudden movement and the feeling of his cock against your inner thigh combined with Steve’s loud groan of pleasure, when you gripped his antlers to steady yourself.

“That’s it. Keep touching them.” He urged you on as he slid you down his shaft. “It’s as if you were gripping my cock.”

“Nghh!” You keened, tightening your desperate hold on the antlers as your walls stretched around Steve’s girth.

“Too big!” You whined, yet your hips followed the command of Steve’s hands as he guided you down.

“Shh, my little fern. Take it. I know you can.” He was mercilessly forcing you down, moaning as your tight, hot walls enveloped him. “All your sweet holes will learn to take all of me.”

By the time he was buried to the root, you were shaking in pleasure. Your cheek was pressed to Steve’s, your breath coming out in jagged, hot puffs. Where your breasts were squished into the hard planes of Steve’s chest, it felt as if the filigree vines pulsing beneath his skin moved to tease your nipples. Steve’s hands were splayed on your hips, holding you in place as he savored the feel of your pussy around him.

After a moment, he began rocking up into you and a few heartbeats later started bouncing you up and down his length. Soon your whimpers stretched into moans. Despite feeling boneless in his powerful hold, you also felt a surge of need to take from him as much as he was taking from your pliant body.

You held Steve’s gaze as you straightened your back and started riding him; your fingers squeezing his antlers.

When your climax hit, it was intense and unworldly.

The first burst of it felt like falling into a cool mountain streak, only for the next tremors to fill you with heat and glow. Your head spinned and your moans and cries intertwined with small gasps of laughter. It was everything at once! Running with the wolves, picking fresh raspberries, twirling around in summer rain.

And when Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud roar, each spurt of his seed seemed to immerse you in hot springs.

It was a rush of sensations; overwhelming, but addictive.

When you met Steve’s gaze - both of you breathing heavily and still rocking into the continuous rhythm of aftershocks - you had no idea your irises bore first specks of inhuman green. All you knew was that you wanted more.

And so you demanded it.

Steve’s grin at your responsiveness was near predatory. He pinned you beneath him on the soft mossy pillows, placed your ankles over his shoulders and plunged into you in a hard thrust that had your scream echoing through the woods.

Soon you’d be bound to him and the forest with every cell of your changing body.

#aspensenchantedbday #buckets-and-trees #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers x female reader #Steve Rogers imagine #Steve Rogers fic #Leshy!Steve Rogers #leshy!Steve Rogers x reader #entwined

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allthecanadianpolitics · 1 year

Text

A Swiss museum has returned two sacred artifacts to the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) confederacy.

The objects — a medicine mask and turtle rattle — had been in the possession of the Geneva Museum of Ethnography (MEG) for nearly 200 years.

Mohawk elder and activist Kenneth Deer was one of three men sent to retrieve the objects.

He says he was "surprised and thankful" for the museum's co-operation and called the MEG "progressive" for returning the objects without conditions or complications.

The museum held a ceremony in Geneva on Feb. 7 to mark the first time that the MEG returned a sacred object to its rightful owners. [...]

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#cdnpoli #Haudenosaunee #First Nations #Switzerland #Foreign Policy #Iroquois #Mohawks

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moronkombat · 6 months

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Nsfw and stw with Syzoth exploring the human body? Finding out how warm it can get when intimate for instance?

SFW

Syzoth is honestly surprised by just how warm a person can be. His kind naturally runs cold and requires external forms of heat in order to regulate body temperature

Doing so had become an everyday habit for him. He'd make sure to lay out in the sun or stay in warm bubbling water in order to make sure he never gets too frigid

He was content with continuing those practices for the rest of his life but then he met you

It a sweet and tender romance between the two of you. Something that happened naturally after Shang Tsung's defeat

There was little physical contact as the two of you began exploring the idea of a relationship together so Syzoth was still largely unaware of just how warm another body could be

It wasn't until he held your hand for the first time did he realize the wonders of human connection

The warmth in your palm fills his entire body and he stares at your connected hands stunned

He would press his palm to yours, spreading your fingers against his own and then just looking at you with pure amazement "You're...warm" is all he says before you start to blush

Syzoth seizes this moment and has his hands cradling your flushed cheeks and he feels the heat there too and now his eyes are widening like the full and bright moon

He presses his nose to yours and then foreheads are pressed together and he hums something so low and vibrating that he feels he may just melt away against you

From that point on, he is extremely physical with you. Always holding your hand, curling up next to you, holding you against his body. You make him feel so safe and loved just with the heat of your body

NSFW

Heat at the surface is a beautiful thing but heat within the body pure divinity

If he thought he had found paradise with you, it pales in comparison to the Elysium that you hide within you

How you hug his length so tightly, how snug and wet you are around him, it's almost too much

Syzoth shakes, trembles even from just the rise in temperature he feels when engulfed by you

He's a whining mess while he adjusts to this new scalding heat. It feels as if every bone in his body is rattling with desire and torrid madness

His tongue laps at the skin of your neck, you're warm there too. You're warm everywhere. There is no escape for him

But why would he ever want to escape this? This a grand and marvelous paradise to be fucking you like this

For the first time Syzoth actually feels as if he about to boil from the inside out, he is suffocating but he will not run from it

His hips sputter as he tries to collect himself while thrusting between your legs, you feel so good. Is this heaven?

It must be something close to that as he continues to moan right into the shell of your ear while hands dip into raw flesh

He calls out your name again and again like it a sacred chant or prayer. Never does he want this to end

He cums hard and with great ferocity. Eyes are rolling, a head is spinning. So much seed is poured into you, will that be welcomed by warmth? Of course it will

Syzoth has discovered his new favorite way of regulating his body temperature thanks to you

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #mk reptile #syzoth #syzoth smut #syzoth x reader #syzoth x you

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mysteriesmuse · 30 days

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I need to be able to be in the car with the bnha boys just gossiping and bitching about people. Like it’s inbetween classes midweek and we’ve gone out to grab some drive through. I’m sitting with French fries in hand and a steady beat is pumping through the radio as we sit it the car. The static hum of the AC mingling with the whizzing of cars on the road. Just fully able to decompress as we playfully tilt our converse clad toes like windshield wipers sipping on the straw of our soda. Katsuki who absolutely eats that kind of shitty friendship smack talk sessons UP. He’s leaning over to turn the radio down as you continue to talk at the red light. Katsuki always immediately jumps in to your defense and gives the best grievances in commentary to your argument. The chances are he doesn’t even know this girl, but he does recall you complaining about this same classmate a few weeks back, and on, and on. He knows she’s not good news. And the man lives for the way he verbally obliterates people in your defense. Something about hearing Katsuki do it in his natural snarl and growl has you punctuating the end of his comment with an exaggerated “thank you!!”

Shoto is buckled in for the ride as your passenger princess. he’s quickly gotten a handle on gossiping without ever having mentioned a name. He’s already shoving a fry into his mouth as you drive off down the road complaining. In the other hand, Shoto is cross-referencing Instagram, Facebook, and the like to match up names and faces himself. Once he finds it to confirm he purposefully tilts his phone under your nose and shows you the worst possible photo as their reference. He lives for the moment where you give an excited little gasp. It’s his sacred duty as the “friend of a friend” to provide a dozen infallible cover stories where together you can gracefully escape any encounters with said individuals. “Of course, love.” He’s already got his notes app pulled up to get started and he’ll crack open the drawer of manilla folders when he gets home. Izuku seems to enjoy hearing you rant on and on as he nods feverishly and passes you nuggets and French fry’s that have been lightly cooled by holding them up against the AC vents. He loves to sit and hear you talk even if you’re upset while doing it. In fact, he usually ends up admiring the strength you have to ignore the other person. Internally, Izuku is hanging onto every word and always trying to figure out the best solution to your dilemma. After your long-winded ranting is complete he’ll shake off the adoring doe eyes and now he’s offering up more than just delicious food - he’s offering up the perfect kind of comeback from the literary analysis he’s been doing this whole time. Every once in a while there’s an option he rattles off that nearly makes you choke until he frantically hands you your drink. It isn’t until you finally drink and sigh, “that’s good.” That he relaxes again and puffs up his chest at the notion of him having helped you.

#mysteriesmusing #bakugou katsuki #shoto todoroki #izuku midoriya #bakugou x reader #shoto x reader #izuku x reader #mha fanfiction #Been feeling really gossipy as the semester goes on #I just need people to stop being terrible and narcissistic in every possible public situation I’m in with them

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sorchathered · 3 months

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Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

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itsabouttimex2 · 2 months

Note

Platonic yandere shadowpeach x teenager daughter dating redson

(First ship I’ve explicitly been asked to write for. Not too surprised that it was Shadowpeach! I’ve written for Wukong and Macaque’s reaction to dating Red Son here!)

(Also, I’ve got a questionnaire if anyone would like to help me with my blog)

Platonic Yandere Shadowpeach

Sun Wukong and Macaque should; in theory, balance each other out. One is bright and forthcoming, the other is secluded and scheming. One is a glittering ray of sunshine that everyone looks towards for safety and salvation, the other a beam of moonlight slinking about unseen in the shadows.

They should get along. They’ve both got a penchant for the dramatic, and take interest in different arts- one in drawing, one in performing. The two are both fond of food and wildlife.

They should be capable of getting along.

But they don’t. Or maybe they can’t.

They’re both too arrogant, too worn, too hurt to be something healthy or happy or wholesome. Why they’ve rushed into this relationship before either had begun to heal and forgive and truly make amends is anyone’s guess, but there’s one thing you know for certain-

You’re the glue holding this ramshackle family together.

A joke long ago led to your birth, two offerings of blood thrown blasphemously into a sacred vase of jade. Wukong had laughed and pitched down a measure of fresh blood from his chest, then Macaque frowned and followed along, dropping a handful of dried flakes gathered from a wrapped wound on his head.

Neither had bothered to read beyond a scant few characters carved on the vase, speaking of ‘rituals’ and ‘blood’ and ‘growing’- and both stopped short when their eyes fell upon ‘Guanyin’, goddess of mercy and compassion.

Immediately, Wukong had started an exuberant and loud routine of sacrilege, prodding the vase and shaking it, mockingly yelling into it and pretending to be a mortal pleading futilely for help from the heavens- right before he decided to take his disrespect a bit further.

“Bud,” the Monkey King hollered excitedly, bouncing on his heels, “Come here, come here! I have a great idea!”

Macaque cautiously uncovered his ears once the yelling had stopped, trudging over to the jade-hewn vase to stand beside his partner. “Uh, Wukong… I don’t know if messing with a sacred vase is all that great of an idea-“

“Hush! Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, bud! We’re gonna toss in a little bit of blood and see how sacred this silly thing really is!”

(Macaque would come to regret many things about has past- but being swayed by Wukong to participate in this sacrilegious ritual would not be amongst the list of them.)

Their blood alike; wrenched from beside Sun’s heart and pulled from the place nearest Macaque’s brain, dripped to the very bottom of the open-mouthed vase, mixing and melding as they oozed down. The blessed container rattled once, twice- then stopped short and went still.

The sudden halt had Wukong howling with laughter, doubled over and wiping tears from his eyes. “Of course not! Like the gods would do anything for the people down here,” he loudly called, as if trying to reach his accusations to the heavens through sheer volume. For good measure, he had given the precious vase a kick, rattling it around.

And listened as something thudded around at the bottom.

Macaque had turned on his sable heel at the sound, scurrying back over to his now alert partner. The demon’s eyes scrunched with worry as Wukong stuffed his arms all the way into the vase, gripping whatever sat at the previously empty bottom. His hand shifted to rest on the end of Wukong’s tiger-hide skirt, though it was more for his own comfort- a way to keep close to his exuberant partner without impeding his arms.

“It’s a baby,” Wukong had stated in awe, a rare note of outright reverence in his voice as he pulled your form past the jade maw of the vase and into his arms. “Bud, this thing just made a baby!”

For a few minutes, neither dared to speak. They just stood and stared, trying to register just how far this little ‘joke’ had spiraled.

Common sense quickly kicked in, leaving Macaque to pry you from his partner, staring down at you with softened eyes.

“Look at her- she’s ours, bud,” the Great Sage announced with pride, and few would have dared to argue with him.

A child fresh to the world, born from dregs of demon blood and formed by sacred jade, with fur and a tail and golden, glowing eyes to prove that you were theirs.

“…never knew I’d be a father,” Macaque quietly says, wrapping you in the long red scarf he always wore.

“Never knew we’d be fathers,” comes his partner’s supportive voice, a rare tone for the Monkey King. Wukong steps forward and slings an arm around Macaque’s neck, hauling him close.

“But I wouldn’t trade this family for the world.”

You had grown up happy and safe, surrounded by uncles whose names had been your first words. Each one was an inspiration to you, standing proud as they walked in lockstep and wielded mighty weapons. They had been your heroes, every last one of them. You wanted to be strong and intelligent and graceful and noble, to be all that they were and even more.

When it had been them and your fathers, everything had been at least fine, when not outright good.

Learning to read maps with Uncle Yellowtusk. Eavesdropping on fights caused by training mishaps. Hunting with Uncle Bull. Getting scolded for messing with weapons without permission. Uncle Peng teaching you how to gut rabbits and fish. Climbing onto shoulders and backs so you wouldn’t fall underfoot.

Everything with Uncle Azure.

Listening close to his stories and relishing his kind touch, letting him braid your hair and fix your clothes. Sitting on his knees and sharing your food, trying new things with his gentle encouragement. Staying up far too late to stargaze with him before falling asleep in his arms, wrapped in his cape.

It had been family, however unorthodox.

But not all families are built to last- some crumble and sever, instead.

One fight years later had been the tipping point between your fathers, leaving Macaque to cart you away over his shoulder as he sulked away through the shadows, putting as much distance between himself and Wukong as possible- he still had you, Macaque reminds himself.

None of the past mattered if he could focus on a bright future with his daughter. The two of you. Alone. No brothers, no partners- just a father and his daughter. No more teasing remarks or being spoken over or dragged along on dangerous missions for a futile cause.

Just him and you.

And that works for all of five centuries, before there’s a ‘parent swap’ and one of your fathers is dead with a glittering gold staff struck through his flesh and bone, poking in through his eye and out through his skull.

Macaque’s blood; freshly splattered across you, hadn’t even dried before Wukong had swept you into his arms with a guttural scream of both sorrow and relief. His child, at the cost of his partner.

Not a fair trade. But one he chose to make anyways.

The Great Sage holds you close, pressing kisses to your forehead and wiping away your fearful tears. He whispers into your ear about how safe you are now, how you won’t ever be alone or scared again. How he’s back and so, so sorry that it took so long to find and save you, that he’ll protect you from now on.

And how he won’t let you go ever again.

How could he? You’re his.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Macaque #Yandere Father #Yandere Shadowpeach #Shadowpeach

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peachdues · 3 months

Text

Coalescence, my secret pregnancy AU for Levi is back in progress!

Levi spied you through the slightly parted curtains of the Trost infirmary, still and unconscious upon the cot.

With a furtive, quick look in and around the triage area for any prying eyes, Levi slipped past the curtain doors and into the small examination room that had been turned into your temporary recovery wing.

You looked like shit.

Truthfully, the sight of you was jarring; you were covered head to toe in some grayish-white dust, broken only by the dark blackish-red stain of blood that had congealed along your hairline and dripped down your face.

Like looking at a ghost, he noted grimly. And that single thought send a cold shiver violently down his spine.

“Hey. Brat.” Levi’s voice was rough as he approached the side of your cot, eyes carefully combing over your still form, taking note of every bruise and cut marring your skin so that he could remember to inflict ten times worse on the incompetent fool responsible for your current state.

“I haven’t got all day. Open your eyes.”

Still nothing. Levi felt another surge of panic, hot and acidic, that he worked to disguise as mild annoyance with your current state.

The Captain crouched beside the edge of your cot, his inner anguish concealed save for a frustrated hand working through his hair.

“Erwin has called a meeting, and there are a few garrison soldiers begging to feel my foot on their face, but I’ve got a few things to chew your ass out over,” Levi’s throat worked to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

The only noise you made were the faint, uneven breaths rattling from your chest. The sound made the hair on his skin curl.

Cursing you out wasn’t working, and a small, nasty part of Levi’s brain began to fear nothing would.

“Damn it all,” he swore, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, head falling into his hands. “What’d I fuckin’ tell you? Don’t get yourself killed.”

—

(3 days earlier)

Levi tugged you in for a quick kiss, though you could feel his faint hesitation before he pulled away.

“I’ll send word when I’m back.”

You nodded. “Don’t get yourself killed, Captain.”

The corner of his lips twitched up as he fastened the army green cloak around his shoulders. “I’ll try, kid. You too.”

Don’t get yourself killed, Captain.

It was what you two always said to one another before parting. Neither of you were stupid enough to promise to return to the other. Such idle assurances were for romantic idiots; returning from an excursion beyond the Walls, safe and sound and whole, was a fool’s dream.

But he hadn’t said it back; not really.

Had he grown too comfortable with your presence in his life? Had he gone soft, opened himself up to the universe to remind him once again that nothing in his life was sacred, and it could and would be ripped away from him before he knew there was ever any danger?

Levi wasn’t a superstitious man, but by god, did he wonder whether he was cursed.

He’d always assumed he’d be the one breaking that promise — he wouldn’t have allowed otherwise. But now, as Levi gazed warily upon the unconscious and unmoving form of his girlfriend — his pregnant girlfriend — he realized he’d fallen into precisely the same trap he’d spent years warning his fellow comrades to avoid, only to watch them fall for it each time.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #levi x reader #aot smut #levi aot #snk levi

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pacifymebby · 4 months

Text

Christmas Morning

Congrats on 2k follows 🫶🏻

For the Christmas asks what do you think each of the Peaky Blinders men would get for their partners? How would Christmas morning look for them when they’re opening their gifts?

Tommy

🌿 I think for Tommy he's torn between feeling like Christmas should be a totally sacred day for family and family only...

🌿 the football match in the trenches on Christmas is probably something he holds dear and so he believes that Christmas is a day of peace and goodwill to all men... After many Christmases alone, Christmases of loss and sorrow

🌿 But he's also all too aware that not everyone else honours the day in the same way as he does, especially his enemies... so Christmas is a half and half kind of day to him, he wants to spend it with his family relaxing and being in the arms of everyone he loves, but he also knows he can't afford to put his schemes on hold, can't afford to drop his guard...

🌿 so he still sleeps with a gun beneath the bed on Christmas Eve and he still lies awake listening for the sounds of intruders, paranoid as he is... You tease him, "who's that for? Father Christmas?" And he lets you get away with your teasing because it's Christmas...

🌿 Tommy doesn't sleep well, but he knows half of the fun of Christmas morning for the kids, is that it's the only day of the year they're allowed to wake mummy and daddy up as early as they like...

🌿 so even though Tommy would usually be up at the crack of dawn, on Christmas morning he forces himself to go back to sleep, or at least to pretend to be sleeping until the little ones come bursting in jumping on the bed to wake him up..

🌿 he's usually so relieved to hear their little footsteps down the hall, and most of the time he wakes you when he hears them so that their jumping on you doesn't come as a sudden scare... Sometimes though he can think of nothing better than to let them make you jump... Because when they do and you squeal and get that little fright, it's the perfect excuse for him to wrap his arms around you and play your protector as he gathers the little ones up for cuddles too.

🌿 He probably pretends to have some order on Christmas morning, pretends he's going to make the kids wait until after breakfast to open their presents, but really he likes to see them be wild and excited...

🌿 he didn't get so many of these childish gleeful Christmases as a boy and he wants to give you and his children the loveliest Christmas mornings...

🌿 Tommy gives the servants the morning off on Christmas, he makes breakfast and tries his hand at remembering where he came from... Plus he enjoys the two of you getting to spend time together in a domestic way like that, with the kids sitting waiting impatiently for their breakfast.

🌿 he definitely thinks he's being low-key with his gifts, "oh that's just a little something from me angel..." as you unwrap a little box which rattled when you shook it.. and of course it's something beautiful and divine, something you can't believe was crafted on earth and not in heaven...

🌿 Tommy kissing the back of your neck as he scoops your hair up and helps you put the necklace on you...

🌿 he spoils you with so many pretty things, dresses, a silk kimono style dressing gown, glamorous and pretty things, pearls, jewellery but also does like to get you more low-key things, the thing he'd be most looking forward to giving you is an old first edition of your favourite book, your favourite poets latest work, a record, music he's seen you swaying with yourself to as you hum the melody.

🌿 and when you tell him he shouldn't have he just smiles, cups your cheek and leans in, whispers the words over your lips "prettiest girl in the world deserves the prettiest gifts doesn't she?" And with his nose nudging yours you're not about to argue with him. Him lacing his fingers with yours as the children interrupt jumping up onto daddy's knee to show him what father Christmas bought them...

🌿 After Christmas Lunch Tommy suggests a little stroll through the snowy gardens down to the stables where another gift is waiting for you... A beautiful horse which you adore... Her sleek black mane, her calm eyes... Tommy promises that this year he'll take more time away from work and teach you to ride.

🌿 I reckon Tommy's more devoted to the "father Christmas" thing than you'd expect him to be, I feel like he'd think it was really important, that's kids need that kind of magic in their little worlds...

Arthur

🍂 Arthur definitely gets quite flustered around Christmas, he worries that he can't think of the perfect gift, he begs and begs you to just tell him what you want, "really darlin please, don't care it it's expensive or if I have to go fuckin Timbuktu for it it'll be easier than this bloody guessing game!" "Arthur if I knew what I wanted I'd tell you but I don't..." "Please love!* You'd be giggling at his despair as he starts reeling off guesses and you keep telling him they all sound lovely, that he should just get you whatever he thinks of...

🍂 "but y/n what if I get it wrong!" "Arthur Shelby for the last fuckin time you won't get it wrong! You've never been wrong before..."

🍂 and the reason he's never been wrong before is that he really does just buy you everything he can think of that he thinks you might like, and sometimes things he's heard your friends ask their husbands for... he buys so much in the hopes that you'll like at least something...

🍂 But really all you want for Christmas is to be with him, that anything he gets you is perfect to you because it will be a sign from him that he cares about you and that he put thought into your gift.

🍂 he's always a little worried he's going to ruin Christmas in some way, he worries that he'll get too drunk or that he'll end up fighting with one of the reletives it guests... and when he's anxious and stressed out he'll have a drink... so he gets pretty merry on Christmas...

🍂 but most of those things he worries about are irrational worries... Arthur cares so much about the whole family getting together for Christmas because he sees himself as the head of the family, and he because he cares he tries really hard...

🍂 he's everyone's favourite flustered uncle and poor Arthur is unfortunately the kids favourite uncle to fuss around... they find it so funny seeing him a little red in the face going slightly crazy trying to make sure everything's going well... always asking you if you think the days going well, if the kids are happy... "look at em Arth, they're having the best time you dafty..."

🍂 He's so nervous watching you open your presents and you're kind of conscious of that so you're always making sure you're extra grateful and that you smile and say thank you for every single gift, and that you tell him he definitely isn't to buy you so much next year...

🍂 because apart from anything else you'd be self conscious about giving your gifts for him, because there's no way you've bought him as much as he's given you...

🍂 and so many of his gifts are so thoughtful too, there'll be a bottle of wine you'd tried to describe to him when you'd come back from a little weekend away with Ada, you'd been telling him how divine it was and how you'd love to drink it again (you were drunk when you were telling him about this) but you couldn't remember it... Arthur had gone to an unhinged extreme and visited the hotel to find out and then buy you a crate of the stuff...

🍂 You'll be really surprised by the levels of thought Arthur's put into your gift and when you stop beneath the mistletoe to thank him for all your gifts he'd cup your face in his hands and tell you that he wanted to make your Christmas perfect... "Was always gonna be if I got to spend it with you Arth..."

🍂 and then he'd get emotional, Arthur definitely gets a bit misty eyed after all the fuss of Christmas, because it's so important to him to see the whole family together, as a family... It wasn't like that when he was a kid and he's always wanted to give the family the kinds of warm happy Christmases they all wished for as youngens.

🍂 he definitely dresses up as Father Christmas for the little ones and brings in their sack of toys... Lets them clamber all over him and doesn't complain once even when in their excitement they're a little rough...

🍂 exhausts himself and falls asleep on the sofa after lunch, cuddled up with you of course...

Alfie

🐻 grumpy when you wake him up early... "You youngens spare no thought for us old men do ya? Wakin us up at the first sign of light over that godforsaken horizon just because its bloody Christmas Day..." you pouting, telling him you're sorry, trying to be convincing but he sees your smile and mirrors it

🐻 "No you're not..." he chuckled pinching your cheek, pulling you up into his lap and trapping you there, demanding compensation for the inconvenience of being woken up at such an ungodly hour in the form of s good morning kiss...

🐻 "This ain't what jesus woulda wanted darlin... Reckon Jesus yeah much like myself right, was probably quite fond of a little shut eye, yeah I reckon he was you know..."

🐻 but of course its mostly just an exaggerated act he's pulling, and mostly he's only grumbling so much because he loves the sound of your giggling, loves the way your laughter leaves you wriggling in his lap trying to escape him when he starts grumbling again...

🐻 he will force you to lie back down, your head on his chest whilst he gets a little extra sleep. He kisses your forehead and tells you to go back to sleep too... "Got a big day ahead of us my little ziskeit, an I wouldn't want my pretty poppet wearing herself out before she's even had her breakfast right... So me and you yeah, we're gonna lie here just a little bit longer right... And I know you can manage waiting right because I happen to know you're a very good, very patient girl... Ain't you ziskeit?"

🐻 Alfie drags Christmas morning cuddles out for as long as possible and insists that all presents are opening in bed... If you've got little ones they drag their stockings into the bedroom and climb up into bed with mum and dad to open their presents too.

🐻 Alfie would have quite a low-key chilled out Christmas I think, you'd have lots of cute little personal family traditions (like the aforementioned opening presents in bed). He'd want there to be as little fuss as possible and a quiet but cosy Christmas by the fire would suit him best ...

🐻 that being said he always tries so hard to be charming and polite when your parents come over for christmas lunch...

🐻 he can't get down on the floor to play with the children so instead he sits in his arm chair and invites them up to play in his lap, letting them make their toy horses and soldiers climb up his left arm, conquer his right shoulder in battle and then claim victory over all on top of his head.

🐻 has a deadly sweet tooth and eats more dessert than Christmas dinner...

🐻 you mix Christian and Jewish traditions on Christmas day and Alfie spends a lot of time in the kitchen with you on Christmas Eve preparing babka and other treats from his own cultural background to share with the family...

🐻 modern Alfie would absolutely threaten deal or death on anyone who even considered reading a christmas cracker joke to him...

🐻 he spent the run up to Christmas being a big mard arse, threatening you with the naughty list every time you said no to him or didn't do as he'd asked. Whenever you were cheeky or sarcastic with him he'd told you you he wasn't bothering with gifts this year, telling you not to bother getting him anything...

🐻 But of course Alfie would never neglect his little ziskeit and come Christmas morning you're unwrapping the loveliest gifts from him... mostly music... the best gift Alfie has bought for you however can't be unwrapped and certainly can't be given to you in bed... it's waiting downstairs in the lounge... a new piano with the most gorgeous intricate design engraved in the body.

🐻 Alfie is terrible for spoiling the kids far too much too... Every year you end up getting them more and more between the two of you, but that's because for as cynical as Alfie is about the whole Christmas ordeal as he calls it, he does know the joy it brings to children and he does believe wholeheartedly that children should be able to have perfect happy childhoods.

John

🌼 Christmas with John is chaotic from the second the sun rises to long after it has set...

🌼feral children everywhere, and one adult man who isn't much better.... John loves to see the children excited and so he'll do anything to feed the fire, ramping up the excitement at any opportunity...

🌼 definitely a chocolate for breakfast household...

🌼 but before the sun rises, before the kids wake up and start shaking the house down... You're woken up by John, his arms wrapped around you, nuzzling into your hair, kissing your neck from behind you...

🌼 because it might be Christmas but he isn't sacrificing cosy, sleepy morning sex for anything and this his own special way of wishing you a merry Christmas...

🌼 so when the kids come bursting into the bedroom you're already awake, cuddled up with John making the most of the last few moments peace before the big day really starts.

🌼 And once the children are up that it, you're both being dragged down the stair to the living room where the children's stockings are full of treats and toys galore... And John's gifts to you are much the same

🌼 John buys you gifts which bring out your inner child, your favourite sweets, dancing frocks and feather hair bands to match... Chocolates too.

🌼 the best gift of all however arrives in an excited bundle of fluff and fur... A bright eyed puppy John had been keeping hidden in the kitchen, a gift not just for you but all the family... The children are over the moon, all shouting names to call her, and you're overjoyed too.

🌼 There's music on the gramophone and John's been mixing you Christmas cocktails since breakfast time, he dances you around your living room and picks your daughter up to dance with you too. Letting the kids dance with their feet on his feet, playing all sorts of silly Christmas games with them too. John is the life and soul of Christmas and there isn't a second goes by without laughter and general merriment on Christmas when John is around.

🌼 trying to gather the children (including John tbh) up to visit his brother's at Arrow House is a nightmare and you definitely all arrive late to Christmas lunch... Not that anyone was expecting you all to be on time... John and the children put the feral in festive?

🌼 He drives Tommy insane all day and you finally get a little peace and relief sipping gin by the fire with Ada and Polly.

🌼 And John definitely still makes time for you, stealing you away when the children are worn out from playing all day. Everyone's a little sleepy in the afternoon, even the puppy is dozing by the fire. John catches your hand and steals you away to a shadowy corner of the house to steal a Christmas kiss from his very own Christmas miracle.

Bonnie

🍀Going to bed on Christmas Eve, the smell of smoke from the fire, cinnamon and citrus from the little garlands of oranges and holly sprigs that you made and hung up around the vardo... In the morning when you wake there's fresh frost on the window and you can feel the chill in the air...

🍀so you snuggle in closer to Bonnie and he wraps his arms around you a little tighter than before. Youre cuddled up together beneath layers of blankets, listening to the birds outside, the hush of Christmas morning before the children wake up... with your eyes closed you're just enjoying being wrapped up together in the arms of your love...

🍀his scratchy morning voice and lilted accent as he kisses your cheek, nuzzles in closer and says "merry Christmas little dove..." "merry chrismas Bon." You whisper against his neck, your breath tickling him as you press a kiss to his skin.

🍀Christmas day is always busy and a little chaotic at the camp, many families all gather together for a huge celebration, which means brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and old friends all gathered together with a fire and feast... Children running round with their new toys, snowball fights, all the little girls making snow angels and getting little ice crystals in the tangles of their long wild hair.

🍀And one day Bonnie can't wait to watch his own children running around all rosy cheeked on Christmas morning, scoffing chocolates and treats from father Christmas...

🍀but for now it's just you and him wrapped up snug and warm inside, sharing a little peace and tranquility before the chaos of Christmas

🍀Your stockings would be quite small, humble little things, but you'd have filled them with sweet little gifts, many of them handmade, for one another.

🍀You have carved bonnie a gorgeous new knife, it's engraved beautifully with little woodland vines along the handle. He's really pleased with it. And Bonnie has carved you something just as beautiful, a hair slide adorned with dried white flowers... It takes your breath away. Bonnie's gifts would be a mixture of practical and pretty....

🍀And because he has big dreams of wealth and riches Bonnie would have saved all the money from his boxing winnings to buy you something stunning and expensive... Something he definitely shouldn't have bought you! A necklace or a set of earrings made with your birthstone.

🍀 Bonnie would definitely get very broody and sentimental at Christmas, especially after a drink and having spent a lot of the day looking after some of the youngens. You'd be feeling the same too after watching him teach the younger lads to box, watching him dance with your younger sister around the fire and give her piggy backs when she's tired.

🍀And he'll want to dance with you too, there'll he no escaping him and you won't be able to keep the smile off your face when he's swaying you slowly to a softer Christmas song. He'd be singing it softly to you as you danced.

Isaiah

🐀 After a wild Christmas Eve you'd both be very tired and perhaps a little hungover... So you'd wake up tangled between the sheets together, sore heads and sleepy eyes... And that's where you'd stay for as long as possible.

🐀 you wouldn't have any Christmas commitments until it was time for Christmas dinner with Isaiah's father so you would drag the morning out in bed with a cup of tea, both of you feeling lazy...

🐀 When you finally wander downstairs you'd both be wearing Isaiah's pyjamas, him wearing the bottoms and you wearing the top. You'd sit together under a blanket to exchange gifts by the tree...

🐀 Deciding to cure your hangovers with another drink

🐀 luckily for you Isaiah has gifted you a cocktail shaker and set so you can mix up a cure for your Christmas morning hangover.

🐀 he's also bought you some truly gorgeous lingerie, red and lacy and he can't wait to see you in it later...

🐀 It would be quite a relaxed Christmas, you'd probably just about manage to be on time to Christmas Lunch, just about manage to look presentable and hide your hangovers from your parents.

🐀 Cheeky kisses under the mistletoe at every opportunity, you having to remind Isaiah to behave himself in front of your parents... He gets amusingly shy about having to wear a party hat on his head and take his turn in charades... He's actually blushing!!

🐀 You'd end up reengerised by the evening and you'd be back down the garrison come the night to meet with Finn and some of the other Peaky lads, music turned up loud, dancing and getting up to no good. Isaiah knows him and Finn will get a bollocking from Tommy when he comes back to the city but he doesn't care, anything to impress his girl.

Michael

☘️ With Michael Christmas morning is luxurious, it's slow and relaxing but it isn't low-key by any stretch of the imagination...

☘️ Tea and breakfast brought up to your room by the house keeper. The two of you eat breakfast in bed, sharing a peaceful good morning cuddle beneath fresh white sheets...

☘️ You go downstairs wrapped in your silk house coat and you exchange gifts beneath the tree, the fire burning in the place, the peaceful crackling of smouldering wood a tranquil soundtrack to your morning.

☘️ Michael has spoiled you, he's bought you a dress which is truly divine, a beautiful shade of jade green, you know he wants you to wear it today... He wants to show off his riches and also his girl... It's probably an attempt at making Tommy jealous... And you're determined to aid your man in whatever he desires so you make a note to do your make up perfectly, a little extra smoulder to your eyes shadow, a little extra rouge on your lips...

☘️ He's also tries to spoil you with the most modern, trend setting gifts... A state of the art gramophone, a home video camera which you're excited to use later to record the Shelby family Christmas.

☘️ Then you and Michael take a hot, steamy bath together, relaxing in eachothers arms, washing one anothers hair, closing your eyes and enjoying the peace, making the most of it before you have to visit the rest of the family at Arrow House...

☘️ Michaels a little begrudging about having to spend the day in Tommy's shadow so you do your best on Christmas morning to stroke his ego and give him the self esteem boost he needs to face his older cousin...

☘️ He's also paid for a trip to New York, he's been many time on business but he wants to take you with him and spoil you, show you Broadway and the skyscrapers which have stolen his heart.

☘️ Aunt Polly meets you at the door to arrow house and takes you under her wing, introducing you to everyone else and stealing you away with the women to drink whiskeys in the kitchen whilst the men play with the little ones who are running riot in the snow covered garden.

☘️ Michael has to rescue you from them because he catches them giving you the third degree, trying to work out if he's going to propose, trying to work out if you're pregnant.

☘️ if he was planning on proposing I think Michael is most likely to propose at Christmas.

Luca

🪽 Christmas starts at midnight when you're attending mass together, recieving communion, you resting your head on his shoulder as your lips move sleepily to the melody of another hymn.

🪽 Luca is never particularly impressed by mass in England, he always scowls and shakes his head, give you an earful on the way home about how the English are all uncultured heathens...

🪽 you just shake your head and smile, stroke his cheek as he's driving, place a cigarette between his lips and light it for him, you plant a kiss to his cheek to calm him and he settles down, remembering that it's Christmas... a happy day, a day of peace...

🪽 Luca has always found Christmas time to make him a little more romantic than usual and when he pulls up the car in the driveway he lifts you out of the car like a bride and carries you over the threshold as if it were the very first time. Smothers you in kisses as you make your way up to bed.

🪽In the morning when you wake it is to his low husky singing, an old hymn from his homeland which sounds all the more lovely for his lethargic tone. He strokes your hair from your face and brushes a kiss over your lips wishing his darling a merry christmas...

🪽 He lights your cigarette for you and you lie back against your plush set of pillows feeling like a princess, and you look radiant with the Christmas morning light streaming through the windows.

🪽 Luca can't resist you in the mornings and finds it impossible to keep his hands off you, slipping beneath the covers to wish you a merry Christmas in his own special way.

🪽 When the children wake they're full of excitement, bubbling over with Christmas spirit as they drag you and their Papà from your bed to go downstairs and open their gifts...

🪽 Now of course the children have been spoiled rotten as always, new toys and enough sweets to rot their teeth in under ten seconds... But you... You're Luca's Angelo, every gift he's given you is addressed to "cuore mio" (my heart) and every present is more beautiful than the last.

🪽 he spoils you with classy gifts, a string of pearls, a new gramophone and a collection of your most treasured records...

🪽 but his main gift to you plays towards Luca's dramatic tendencies, his need to show off and shower you in all the adoration his wallet can give... In the driveway with a red ribbon tied around the body is a flash sports car just for you.

🪽 "But... I can't... Drive..." "Not yet cuore mio, but don't worry, you'll have the best teacher..."

🪽 tickets to the opera and the most gorgeous black velvet dress for you to wear when he takes you into the city for an evening of luxury and music.

🪽 Luca dotes on you throughout the whole of the festive period, he dotes on you normally but in December and early January he really layers it on thick, all day Luca makes sure your every need is attended to... He is always the one to top up your wine glass, always planting little kisses to your hands and fingers, using any excuse to touch you...

🪽 Helps you get ready in your finery to greet your guests before dinner, Luca combs your hair and helps you into your dress, fastens the clasp of your necklace and can't resist peppering your neck in teasing kisses...

🪽 He doesn't mind playing host to his huge family, it's an excuse to show off after all, but he tires of social interaction quickly and you can see him growing impatient as the day draws on, you stop to massage his shoulders beneath the mistletoe and then you let your kiss linger on his lips, "not long now tesoro," you remind him, "then it'll be just me and you and the children, you'll have us all to yourself..." "Trust me cuore mio that moment can't come soon enough..."

🪽 When you try to pull away and return to the dining room Luca drags you back for one last kiss and really makes the most of the little moment of peace he gets to have with you.

Aberama

🥀 There was a time when Christmas was a particularly lonely time for Aberama, a time when he remembered all that he lost when he lost Bonnie's mother.. he used to find the winter season to be a harsh, cold, long and lonely winter...

🥀 but with you in his life things are finally beginning to thaw out, he has hope again for the first time in a long time. Your sweetness makes him feel warm despite the winter frost on the ground...

🥀 So now Christmas is a time when Aberama finds himself feeling grateful, more than anything else. He finds himself reflecting on his life and how much his family means to him, finds himself reflecting on you and all the joy and peace you've brought to his conflicted world.

🥀 His favourite part of winter is going on long walks through the frosty countryside with you tucked up in one of his big coats, seeing your little head poking out of a scarf he's wrapped tight around your neck to keep the chill at bay, your little rosy cheeks, is one of the prettiest sights he's blessed with amid the grey of December...

🥀 On Christmas morning he wakes up before you to prepare the fire and to start brewing tea and preparing breakfast... You're a little younger than him and he has a tendency to dote on you at the best of times, but on Christmas morning in particular you look so adorable, so at peace tucked away beneath the blankets that he can't bare to disturb you...

🥀 so you awake to a slight breeze tickling your cheeks, the sound of fire crackling, the hiss of the kettle coming to boil... And when you join Aberama by the fire you're still hazy with sleep. He opens his arms to welcome you into his embrace and lets you sit between his legs on the floor as he carries on attending to the fire.

🥀 As the camp slowly comes to life and everything gets busier he keeps you tucked away nice and close to him... With his own children grown up there's a little less chaos around his vardo and so you are both able to watch the festivities from a slight distance... You know it won't be long before you're swept up in it all however, you know it won't belong before one of the little ones comes running to show you their new toys...

🥀 and so you make the most of the peace whilst the children are distracted by their stockings to exchange your own gifts by the fire...

🥀Aberama is a practical and sentimental gift giver, he gives you a huge cosy woolen jumper, one to keep you snug and wrapped up in the cold months ahead, new boots for riding and accompanying him on those long rambles through the woodlands, he's also bought you a new pony, shes gorgeous and your heart swells with pride at the knowledge he'd have needed to pull a mean trick to get you a creature so beautiful, the thought you're worth that much to him almost brings you to tears.

🥀 Definitely takes a lot of pride in preparing the perfect Christmas feast and he keeps himself plenty busy in the morning with some of the other men and women preparing a fine spread for everyone to share... Definitely saves you the best carving of meat and the best looking potatoes.

🥀 Honestly despite the fact his children have grown and that even his youngest is an adult now, I thinn Christmas time makes Aberama a little broody, a little nostalgic for the days when his own little ones were running riot playing with their new toys... You might find he starts talking a little sentimentally when he's had too much wine, that when he's dancing with you by the fire in the evening he pulls you a little closer than usual...

Merry Christmas to all of my lovely lovely followers I hope you've had a lovely day <3

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#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders headcannon #peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby x reader #aberama gold x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #michael gray x reader #alfie solomons x reader

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loki-is-my-kink-awakening · 7 months

Text

Okay, I wanna talk about this scene and what it might mean for Loki and Mobius in S2.

Sure, they stood here so Loki could point at the panel showing all the Kangs fighting, and the full mural is meant to be the story of how the Time Keepers created order out of chaos, but what if it also means something else.

Let's look at Mobius first, then Loki.

Mobius POV

Mobius is standing with his back to a panel representing chaos and looking at one that represents order, showing the Time Keepers appearing as gods to shocked people below. Seems very religious and mythological, right?

"If you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous."

Mobius had always believed in order and that what the TVA were doing, ripping people from their lives, was necessary.

He also has previously likened Loki's origins, which is literal mythology in mcu form, as similar to his own experiences in the TVA.

What he isn't aware of is who exactly was behind the curtain or that all-out war is coming. That's something Loki reveals to Mobius, showing him the truth in his blindspot (the panel behind him).

Now, he knows the Time Keepers are fake, that he wasn't created by them. By this point in the episode, he's already acknowledged to B-15 that their gods are dead.

This revelation for Mobius feels pretty similar to how the truth was revealed to Loki in S1E1.

Mobius is also looking at a panicked Loki. He's seen him teary-eyed before, but not this distressed.

What Mobius sees before him is his fear, that Loki won't be able to escape the bonds of the sacred timeline, that he's doomed to die, and that pains him.

And one last thing. Loki is a god of mischief, and I can't help thinking about the comparison of a real god Mobius can see in front of him and the fake Time Keepers in the panel behind Loki.

Loki POV

Meanwhile, Loki is looking at chaos that scares him. The panel has several Kangs all fighting for supremacy in a pose that was similar to that shown by Kang in S1E6.

Loki is the god of mischief, who thrives on chaos, and yet the prospect of all these Kangs frightens him.

War is the only thing preoccuping his mind. It's the only thing he can see.

But behind him are the Time Keepers, and we know they are fake, but what if the truth Loki has to face is that while he no longer wants a throne, he might need to take it to save the people he cares for, his found family.

Loki is looking at Mobius, who's concerned about him and a little rattled, but ultimately keeping his calm. I think this calm is likely to fracture the more season 2 progresses.

What Loki sees before him is his fear, that Mobius will be caught up in the war and lost to him. It's a reminder of what's at stake if he doesn't restore order. And he's already experienced a Mobius who didn't know him, and that was heartbreaking.

What this scene also does is continue both Loki and Mobius being mirrors for each other, revealing truth and reflecting one another.

They are similar to each other in many ways. We saw glimpses of Mobius embracing chaos in S1, which I always love to see. And I can't wait to see more of these soulmates. They are important to one another.

Thanks to @lgwilt and @insert-witty-user-name-here for discussing this theory with me. I added in your glorious insights because what you said really resonated with me.

And I haven't even spoken about all the touching, that Mobius doesn't want to lose Loki and Loki is just so desperate to get to Mobius, but I think other people have covered that.

And just a wee note to everyone that this is just me theorising, and usually my theories do not happen, but I couldn't help pondering if this mural had an even deeper meaning. I just like theorising for fun.

Hopefully, the above made some sort of sense.

#loki series #loki #mobius #lokius #loki tv #loki show #loki s2 #loki season 2 #loki x mobius #wowki #loki theory #loki spoilers #not that this necessarily happens but for those who don't want to see any theories too

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romanoffsbish · 8 months

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A Whiskey Lullaby (A Cruel Life)

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Heavily Inspired by:

You were tired. You always were now that you knew you were dying. The doctor said at least a year but they were too enthused; lying to you, because it was only two months since then and you knew very well that the day you die is here.

And now — You wanted to talk to your wife, to get to maybe share one more dance beneath the stars but she wasn't available. She hadn't been for awhile, before you stopped running from your fate. The drinking started a month before, the lying and constant evasion came next. Natasha was mad at you, and you were dying. Dying to know why, dying to hear her say I love you one last time, but, she was dying to strangle you, to take you before the cancer.

——

Dying to know why, and as she laid on the couch with a puddle of beer staining the carpet you told her, "There's never a right time to say goodbye my dear, and I hope you'll forgive me in due time for leaving you this way." Forgive you for what? She'll never know because she was too drunk to hear you verbalize what she already knew was in your heart (and lungs).

Cancer took you and the world mourned first.

Natasha woke up to the deafening silence. Not even the birds were singing. The dead leaves not falling, and you weren't answering her pleas. Natasha crumbled to her knees beside the bed. Her guilt laced grief rattling through the cracks in the walls she'd recklessly built.

The bright leaves fell then. As did your limp hand from hers when she felt the chilled skin.

The redhead stumbled from your room and sent Yelena a text, "Izvini." (Sorry). Then she returned with a poisoned bottle of whiskey.

Natasha failed to love you like she solemnly promised (vowed). She let grief consume her. The waste of time drinking started the moment that she knew you were leaving her behind. It wasn't the actuality—the cruel world taking you—nope, it was you, breaking a sacred promise.

To stay with her til the end, hers; not yours.

How could you take her lifeline away? Then actually expect her to breathe right some day?

Natasha wouldn't give you that satisfaction.

You neglected yourself for the sake of her for years. Not complaining of pain when she was met with financial problems after Tony died and his estate froze the Avengers funds until they could unveil his final will and testament.

During the blip she was running out of money every time she thought she stood a chance at bringing you back; you, who was already sick.

A daughter lost her father, a wife her husband. Millions were brought back from extinction, surely it counted for something, but what did all of the sacrifice mean if she lost you too?

Her mind plays a loop of every time you'd coughed while you were on the run with her. Never near a hospital long enough to tell her that something was wrong, because you would never risk losing her to Ross as you got cured.

She would have turned herself in to Tony for him to swear to it you were covered. The man loved you enough to put differences aside, and Ross wasn't stupid enough to let you die.

Natasha would have survived because she would have gotten you back eventually. She was well known for her ability to make herself disappear and return when the time is right.

Timing was always tough for you two. Like when you missed the first date because you saw someone in need and tended to them instead.

You felt peace for a glorious few seconds.

Then once you realized you blew the redhead off you ran around the city on a mission. It started with you getting wine, then a pizza and ended with you pleading with the owner of the flower shop to unlock the door, and then once more pleading with a fist at Nat's front door.

You knocked, and knocked until she opened. You handed her the smushed up tulips in a rash wave of anxiety and she spluttered the petals from her lips and stared at you blankly. Green eyes holding a grudge against her perfect match, a foolish wager to take a chance on.

Natasha's anger nearly blew it, but you beat her with your rushed words: "I'm sorry for missing our date Natasha. I love pasta, and you too."

Natasha's eyes widened and you shrugged with a playful smile. "Surprise if you didn't already know! It was unrequited love in the start babe," you reminded her and she pouted. You flashed her an even dreamier smile, "But it worked out in the end," and teased her with a smug wink.

"It did, didn't it?" Natasha smiled and planned to kiss you breathless, to seal the deal of your hearts greatest desires. Then you ruined it.

Well, at least partially... Halting her game.

"I don't actually apologize though, because I couldn't leave that little boy crying beneath the dimmed streetlights of a ruthless city. He clung to me before I even saw him, so I put on my hero cap and helped him to find his mother."

Natasha's dagger eyes twisted into hearts.

"After four blocks of searching I heard her calling for Dylan, the little stinker lifted his head and cried. His mother was on me in an instant and only refrained from punching me when she saw I was an Avenger. If it were me I still would've swung. But she didn't. Only took a photo then thanked me in a rush to fame."

Natasha watched you in amusement as your face revealed your thoughts first, you scoffed humorously at that, it was just peculiar to you because: "If you share that story, all you are saying is 'I'm the mom who lost sight of my toddler in the streets of a devious New York.'"

You went to catch your breath, but the redhead needed you to stop blabbing, so she pulled you into a kiss that took your next to last breath.

Then she had to go and silence you to never have to face the ramifications of the true last breath. It left your lips while she slept in torment, her dreams were always cruel now.

As she took the last sip she sighed, because at this time she'd be escaping the wake up call.

Natasha shed a relieved tear, her dulled eyes closed and the empty bottle in her hand slipped onto the ground and shattered. The birds cried and the trees stood barren. The sun that just rose eventually set. Your lifeless bodies connected like lovers unlike they'd been prior.

That doomed night, the angels and birds sang in a practiced symphony; a whiskey lullaby.

The world lost two more heroes in the aftermath. Everyone mourned, Yelena buried you both beneath the willows, and cried as she yelled at you two for being so selfish. Laura clung to the blonde because now she was down a husband and sisters, by blood and marriage.

Yelena gave into the reality that this was all the family she had left. Losing the same sisters left them bonded now, in a morbidly unfair way.

It was frivolous really, to grieve the loss instead of celebrate the conquered life. They cry out; but to a void, neither of you could hear the mourning; eternally booked and busy.

Too busy rejoicing in your afterlives together.

Natasha got a second chance at loving you.

She'd found you in a field, out of breath from all the racing to get to you, but also because you were glowing brighter than ever before. Wearing a vivacious smile and looking pretty.

Much like when she found you earth-side she crumbed to her knees, sobbing. But this time her tears were a mix of bitter joy. You quickly shushed her though, and pulled her to her feet and right into a deep, meaningful kiss. It was free of sin, but the deviants would get off to it in a porno because they'd feel the authenticity.

The love was palpable and renewed. She cried into your mouth but you continued smiling.

"I'm sorry," Natasha whispered into the warm skin of your neck. Not like blood pumping beneath skin, but more so a sensational bliss. "I ruined our happy ever after moya lyubov'."

"Don't be sorry Natasha," you refuted her while spinning her around by your grip on her hips. Forcing her to see the dreams you shared in front of her. Day flashed to night and you spun her around beneath the light of the moon.

When you finally stopped spinning her she fell into your arms in a graceless way she detested. Her brows furrowed once again but you kissed her lips and devilishly distracted her mind. Pulling away you gasped, then smiled so soft that she finally deemed this moment reality.

You were her angel always, but you were finally free of the cruel restraints of a limited world. Natasha jumped and you caught her, she wrapped her arms around your neck, her legs mirroring them around your waist. You pecked her lips then said: "We lived that life full of regrets, always forgiving, but unable to forget. Let's save the now for absolution, we're free."

"In paradise baby," Natasha cheered and the sun set. Then it rose without conditions, and you lived out your dreams with your lover.

Eternity was kind to you, oh the places your love could've gone if only life had been too.

——

Heartbreaking Angst | Not Even a Happy Life so Why Would the End be Any Different? | Exactly | Just Kidding Babe | The end is for making amends 💕

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