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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months

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Azriel x reader: Unchained[*]

A/N: it’s a mess because I had no idea where it was going when it started 😭

Warnings: Masturbation, shadow-play (absolute menaces), slight voyeurism, hand job + blowjob, smut, soft!Az?, biting, forced proximity?

Word count: 4,408

You glare at the shadows as they twine up your thighs, nudging your book out the way.

Rolling your eyes, smile on your lips, you return to your story, having just settled down to read. The second you remove your attention from them however, they’re knocking at your book again, flicking between your fingers, eventually loosening your grip enough it falls into your lap. Brow scrunches as you peer at the shadows, “what’s gotten into you today, hm? You’re normally so docile?”

The darkness dances around your fingers, nuzzling against the dip of your palm, making you laugh. “Is your master ignoring you again?” Lips stretch at the imagery—they sometimes get a little antsy when he buries himself in work, feeling lonely and neglected. As if in answer, the shadows scoot up your arms, wrapping around your shoulders, pushing between your shoulder blades. A laugh huffs from your mouth as you raise to your feet. “Okay, okay,” you chide, softly, “lead the way. But you know how he is, I doubt I’ll be able to do much other than maybe play with you for a little.”

A shadow lightly brushes the crest of your cheek, making you smile despite the nerves building beneath your skin. He won’t be upset with you for disturbing him, will he? The last thing you want is to distract him. But if his shadows are the ones calling you… Teeth prod into your lower lip. Warmth dusts your cheeks, getting to see him.

Mindlessly, you allow the shadows to guide you through the hallways of the House of Wind, feet padding quietly along the floors as your lead deeper into the residence. Strangely, you note, they don’t seem to be taking you to his office—walk you straight past the door. Heart spikes as you realise the direction they’re pushing you in.

Hesitantly, you come to a stop, shadows carrying on for a little before halting, turning to watch you.

“Are you sure about this? Won’t he want privacy if he’s in there?” You murmur to them, worrying your bottom lip. Brow scrunches deeper, “he’s not bringing his work into his bedroom, is he now?” You ask, slightly exasperated. His private chambers should be where he’s allowed to relax for the little time he allows himself.

The shadows don’t reply. Merely press against the small of your back, gently encouraging you forward.

Reluctantly, you follow their guidance, a little unsure. But it’s his shadows; they wouldn’t do anything he wouldn’t be happy with. Reassured, you obediently pad along with them. Until you reach his door.

It’s already peeked open a crack, and his shadows drop to your feet, sliding off your body with a feather-light touch. Slinking across the floorboards, returning to their master.

Quietly—so as not to disturb him if he’s resting—you inch toward the door. It’s not wide enough for you to peer through the hinges, so your eyes find the mirror that reflects the wide expanse of his bedchambers. A strange scent catches your attention—deeper than what you’re accustomed to…muskier? You wish you knew what it meant, but you haven’t been granted enough access to him to figure it out. It’s not distressed, though, you note. That scent, you’re well-accustomed with.

Softly, you push the door a little wider, just a centimetre or two, revealing just enough of the mirror for his whereabouts to become apparent.

Eyes widen as you hold in your breath of shock.

He’s propped up on the bed, wings pinned behind his back to the headboard, arms bound near the base of his spine, and…and he’s—… There’s not a scrap of clothing on him. Save for the blindfold tied across his eyes.

Tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth as you take him in, blood spiking in your veins. Traitorously flushing your skin.

His shadows sweep over the muscled planes of his heavenly body, grazing his chest, threading through his inky black hair—head tips back ever so slightly, craning into the touch. His canines prick into one corner of his lower lip, skin whitening with the pressure as his back arches, stomach gleaming with sweat; flexing as his darkness—

You nearly stumble backward, exhaling a soft breath.

Mouth goes dry, watching his shadows swarm his cock, squeezing their master torturously. His cheeks flush with colour, a guttural moan ripping from his chest as they twist mercilessly. A low curse growls from his mouth as the darkness fists in his hair, dragging him backward to expose the strong column of his throat.

You shouldn’t be seeing this. Dear gods, you should not be seeing this.

Throat rolls, and you move to take a step back, when something else catches your attention.

At your feet is a small key, the kind that fits into each of the doors in the house. Azriel must have locked up before starting. But if that’s the case, how did—

Shadows build at your back, right as you piece together how eager they had been to drag you over to their master. Shove between your shoulder blades, forcing you to stumble into the room in order to right yourself. A yelp breaks from your chest as you collide with the door, tripping over your feet as you nearly topple over.

Instantly, you smack your hand over your mouth, but he’s already heard. Body stiffening. Shadows halting their games.

“Who’s there?” He snarls, letters ripping viscerally from between his teeth, arms flexing as he makes to remove the blindfold but— His shadows aren’t cooperating. They should have already unchained him by now, yet they’re remaining neatly wrapped around his cock, unwilling to halt his pleasure entirely.

Mortification flushes your cheeks, and you spin. Just in time to see the door slam shut, lock clicking. Key returned to its home.

You stare at the shadows as they slink away, darting back across the floor to reach him. Azriel.

The shadowsinger straightens, awareness lighting his skin as instinct kicks in—but not the one he needs. Arousal is still spiking his heart, shifting his scent, making his mind muddy and unclear. Opposite him, your eyes are darting about the room, trying desperately to find something to explain away the situation. Anything save for admitting you were watching him, then his shadows caught you. Though technically it had been them that had gotten you into this predicament. Surely that counts for something…

“I said,” he repeats, so rough it’s difficult to decipher, “who’s there?”

Heat flushes your cheeks. Maybe if you sneak to the exit…

“Cassian, you’re a dead male if you don’t fucking get out,” he snarls, making you halt. You sometimes forget how close they are. How peculiar their bonds are, too. You could never imagine being so comfortable with someone else.

Silently, you turn back to the door, tip-toeing forward, reaching for the key. Shadows bat your hands away, abruptly surging forward to lock around your waist, firmly guiding you back to the centre of the room. Just a few feet from the foot of his bed.

Azriel’s brow dips when he doesn’t get a reply. “Cass.”

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. It wouldn’t surprise you.

Shadows snare your ankles, and you inhale sharply, staring down as the writhe at your feet, pinning you in place. Azriel stiffens when your noise reaches his ears—definitely not Cassian. Nor Rhys.

Blood practically freezes when your name slides from his tongue, voice thick and rough. How did he figure it out so quickly?

You swallow, praying to the mother he’ll believe you that his shadows pushed you in here. Pushed you in, and unlocked his door. Then relocked it.

No way.

“Yeah…” you answer, voice catching. Clear your throat. Shadows stutter at the sound of you, squeezing his cock, making his jaw tense. He opens his mouth to speak, but you jump first. “Azriel I swear I didn’t mean to see anything,” you say, words pouring from your lips like they’re made of wildfire. “I was just—Your shadows were telling me to come see you, so I did, but then we went past your office and I was worried I would interrupt you, but they kept telling me to go forward, and then we got here, and I— They pushed me in, and I’m so sorry, I promise I… I’m so sorry…”

Humiliation crawls down your spine, carefully averting your eyes from between his legs.

Again, he opens his mouth to talk, but instead a sharp groan drags from his mouth, teeth biting his lower lip as shadows pulse around his cock, flicking over the slit in his head. Arousal zaps between your legs, skin buzzing as you try your hardest to think of something to keep your scent from shifting.

“Uh… I’m really sorry, but the door’s locked, and they’re not letting me—” You gasp as they raise higher, suddenly snaking up to your calves, crawling up to your thighs. “Azriel…” You squeak, freezing as they brush beneath your skirts.

The shadowsinger shakes his head, almost in dismay. “They do this sometimes. Misbehave when I let them off,” he bites out, chewing his lower lip—slightly swollen. “I need you to remove the blindfold. They’ll cooperate when they know I can see them,” he mutters.

Heat pools in your lower belly, but when you make to move forward, the shadows allow it. “Untie the blindfold and you’re sure you’ll be fine?” You mumble, quietly padding forward, skin tingling as you try not to look at him too much. How devastatingly hungry he makes you.

Azriel nods, oblivious to your inner thoughts.

Despite shaky fingers, you make quick work of the blindfold, silk slipping easily from the knot, allowing your eyes to lock with blown out hazel. Pupils dilated from the darkness. You look away hastily.

Yet things only seem to get worse, much to your mutual embarrassment.

“I don’t know what they’re doing,” he grits out, sending a scathing glare to the idle darkness, content to remain snug around his cock, unwilling to click the key in the lock of his chain. You shake your head, “I’ll just undo them. Then you’ll be good to go, right?” Eyes lock again at the poor choice of words, and heat flushes your cheeks.

“If you’re comfortable…” he hedges, colour dusting his skin. At least you’re not alone in the awkwardness.

Nodding once, you crawl onto the bed, getting to your feet. The only way you’ll be able to reach the lock is by going down between his wings, as they’re blocking your access from the side. You try to ignore the heat that’s steadily building between your thighs. Pray Azriel won’t be able to tell as you lean over him, feet either side of his hips as you attempt to avoid the great wings at his back. They’re really fucking big though.

Fingers fumble, feeling for the chains, but darkness is shrouding him, making it nearly impossible to actually see what you’re doing. “Is there any way for you to at least remove them from your arms? I’m struggling to see what’s where…” You brush skin, then zero in on it, tracing down to his wrists. “Wait— I think…” You lean further, his shoulders tensing, head shifting to make room as you reach for where you assume the iron is. “Okay… I can feel the locks,” you report, squinting in attempt to see what you’re touching. “Do you remember which one has the key in, Azriel?” You ask, trying to feel your way around.

Beneath you, the male has gone silent. Body rigid.

“Azriel?” You repeat, halting your movements. Pull back. “Azriel, what— Oh my gods.”

“I’m so sorry. They’re not—” He cuts himself off, hissing your name in warning. Just a second too late for you to register as his shadows hook around your hips, having crept up the backs of your thighs. You’re roughly yanked away from the chains, pulled with enough force to make you—

“Motherfucker!” You hiss, collapsing into his lap, shadows still working him with agonising slowness.

In any other scenario, Azriel would have released a surprised laugh at hearing the foul curse coming from your mouth. Instead, his cock twitches, unaccustomed to hearing such a filthy word on your tongue.

Both of you stiffen with the proximity, eyes locking and widening as scents twine. Gazes break, hastily snapping away. Clear your throat.

“Should I— I mean, should I get Cass? Or maybe Rhys’ll know what to do?” You manage, voice heavy and thick. Azriel shakes his head. “They’ll never let me live this down,” he mutters, muscle flexing as he shifts beneath you. “Maybe you should just let them continue…” you murmur, heat flushing your cheeks as hazel cuts to you. Swallow once. “I mean, that’s what they’re doing, right? Trying to get you to—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he grits out, colour tinting his skin. Hisses when his shadows squeeze him in reprimand. Then stop entirely. Stubborn things.

Azriel’s chest rises up and down, sweat gleaming in the low light, your temperature increasing.

“Do you… Can I help?”

Hazel stares at you, making you want to steal the words back from the world. Open your mouth to apologise…

“You…” Muscle feathers in his jaw. Eyes flick to his shadows. One curls around his ear. Attention snaps to you, nostrils flaring delicately. “I would appreciate it,” he manages stiffly, still staring at you.

Mother strike you down.

Push away embarrassment, shifting in his lap, settling between his legs. Swallow once, wapping your hand around him. “I’m not sure what… Please tell me what you like.” Azriel sucks in a shaky breath, sending a free wave of his arousal wrapping around you, clouding your mind. “Firmer,” he instructs after you move your hand over him. He shudders, darkness stuttering at his back, brows digging together. “More,” he manages, sounding strained.

You grip him tighter, repeating the action, heart pounding as you watch his responses. His teeth biting into his lip, eyes pressed shut in attempts to manage his pleasure. Why is he wanting to stay in control when the whole point is to lose it?

That certainly won’t do.

Again, you shift, lips parting as your tongue flicks over the slit in his head, tasting the moisture that’s gathered there.

Azriel swears under his breath, feeling the weight of his attention on you. Exhilaration lighting your blood at being the centre of his arousal. Legs part, allowing you more access, and you settle more comfortably—one arm wrapping beneath his thigh, free hand pumping what you know you won’t be able to swallow.

Shadows flicker, then yield entirely as you slide down onto him, taking him into your mouth, tongue shifting against the underside. Tension melts from his body, slumping slightly against the headboard as he twitches. A guttural moan rips from his throat as you flick your wet muscle just beneath his head, hand pumping his base, fingers soothing brushing against his hip bone. Gentle and torturous.

Your name slips from his tongue, deep and rough. “I can’t—… I’m—” You hum comfortingly, encouraging him along. Shadows flick over the backs of your thighs, spurring you to take him as deep as you can, throat flexing around him as he twitches. His hips buck, causing a small gagging sound to whimper from you, and he groans. Without hesitating, he repeats the action, bucking up into your mouth, needing a repeat. Throat contracts, squeezing him as you whine, tears building at the edges of your vision.

When you pull to his tip, then slide back down, his restraint snaps, cum spurting from his tip as he sinks back against the bed, head tipping to expose the strong column as it bobs. Chest rises and falls deeply, panting as euphoria concentrates his blood, blinding pleasure coating his skin. Eyes flutter as they roll upward, spine curving as you take him.

Slowly, you pull back, tongue flicking over your lips to catch anything you missed, lapping the remaining moisture from his head. Blown out hazel cuts into you, temperature spiking at the hunger he greets you with. “Where did you learn that?” He pants, eyes narrowing. You swallow; he tracks that, too. “It’d be a little embarrassing if I didn’t know at my age, don’t you think?” You counter, trying to bite back the heat that’s turned liquid between your thighs.

His throat rolls, eyes flicking downward—raking over you. Reassessing.

“Well,” you say hastily, “you should be good to—” Bite your tongue as shadows curiously play beneath your skirts, a single tendril sneaking beneath the band of your underwear, snapping it against your abdomen. His jaw ticks at the sound, knowing exactly what the darkness is doing to you. Right before his eyes.

“Will you…” Mother above, it’s much more difficult than he anticipated. With almost any other female, he would have no concerns at all. Shakes his head, straight to the point. “You enjoyed that.” He’s rewarded with the sound of you softly cursing, heat warming your skin, enough for him to shift with pleasure at the thought of sinking into you. How wet you must be from your scent.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I can’t help it.”

Azriel swallows thickly. “Act on it.”

Eyes lock, breath catches in your lungs. “What?” The male shifts, wings twitching as he rearranges them. “I know you want to,” he breathes, eyes fluttering slightly as he pulls your scent into him. “So I’m giving you the okay.” Shadows flick against your inner thighs, making your head dip. He’s saying it’s fine…and Gods you want him so badly.

Azriel nearly sighs with relief when you hesitantly settle your palms on his shoulders, nearly groans with delight as you fully put yourself over his lap, thighs either side of his hips. For so long he’s been waiting for you to open yourself up to him, gently plying you apart with incessant determination. And now here you are at last, crawling into his lap, ready to take him. Sends a quiet prayer to the Mother, thankful for the relief sweeping in.

Pleasure builds beneath his skin as you pull your skirts up, inadvertently displaying yourself to his hungry eyes. How the cotton is suctioned to your heat, undoubtedly a patch of darkened fabric at your entrance. He can scent your arousal; guess at how wet you are.

Fingers dip between your legs, shadows pulling your skirts taut against your pretty hips, allowing you to push the cotton aside, letting his tip slot against the soft dip between your thighs. He exhales a shaky breath, chest rising and falling heavily, attention glued to your cunt, watching as you brace both hands on his shoulders, heart spiking at the contact. Feel as you try to slide down, taking him slowly, swallowing his head.

Teeth bite into your lip as you begin to settle your weight over him, already feeling how big he is. Suck your lower lip in, spine curving as you rise up, then settle down, repeating the actions until you can fully sit yourself in his lap. Hips pressed tight against the backs of your thighs. Mouth opens in pleasure, eyes fluttering as you clamp down around him.

“You okay?” He breathes softly, feeling how tight you are around him, despite the wetness that’s dripping down onto him. Nod your head, though your eyes are still slightly rolled. You look numb with pleasure, and he needs to grip your hips, be in control so he can slam you down onto his cock. Abuse the spots inside of you he has yet to discover.

Azriel calls your name softly; you try to blink away your stupor. Straighten your spine, weight shifting over him, moans pouring from your lips as he grazes a part of you that—fuck.

Shadows twine around your back, letting you rest against the tops of his thighs as you pant heavily, heat buzzing beneath your skin—clothes need to come off. “Azriel…” you whimper. “Azriel, can you…?” Darkness flicks over your hips, skating up your stomach, pulling loose strings and dragging the fabric away almost in the blink of an eye. Lips part in pleasure as you slump a little in relief, cock pressing deeper.

“I need you to untie me,” he whispers gently, colour flushing his cheeks. “Can you do that for me?”

Peek your eyes open enough to latch onto hazel, pupils blown out. Moans softly whine from your chest—how intimate he looks. Swallow, then lips part. Shake your head, smiling softly. Azriel’s hip buck with need, urging you to rethink your decision. Back arches, a louder moan bursting from your chest. Forcing him to watch as you come apart while his shadows slink across your skin. Tongue flicks out to wet his lips as darkness plays with your perky nipples. Pinching. Biting.

“Azriel…” you moan. He growls in frustration, tugging on the self-inflicted restraints, begging for them to magically undo. Furious with his shadows for daring to put him through this kind of torture.

“I need you to untie me, pretty thing,” he groans, watching as you swirl your hips, exploring how his cock can make you feel. “Untie me, then we can have some fun. Wouldn’t you like that?” Lips part as your eyes lift into a smile, a mix between a moan and a laugh bubbling out. Shift so your full weight is over his hips, forcing his head to tip back against the headboard, eyes squeezing together as he tries to keep his sanity.

“You’re the one who tied yourself up,” you purr drowsily, arms gliding over the broad expanse of his shoulders, briefly attaching your mouth to one of the many paths of ink trailing across his chest. Teeth drag across hot, tan skin, tongue flicking over his nipple, hips bucking sharply, a quiet gasp huffing from his nipped-raw lips. Again, canines dig into the skin, attempting to quiet himself, but he has neither his hands nor his shadows to aid him this time.

You lean forward, mouth opening over his own, taking his lower lip between your teeth, tugging lightly. Hazel locks onto you; you purr. Spine curving, breasts softly pressing against him, almost aching with pleasure. Roll your hips.

He gives you a dark glance, peering at you from beneath a narrowed brow, dark locks of hair curling. You moan, hands greedily exploring the muscle of his shoulders, dipping down his back. Hazel widens as you brush his wings. Lips slant against his own, tongue flicking against him, and he opens eagerly. Unable to form a defence against you now the soft pads of your fingertips are stimulating him in such an intimate way.

“Like that, Azzie?” You ask lazily, rolling your hips onto him. Mind numbing from pleasure. Cock nestled so deep inside of you. “You like this sort of thing, don’t you?” Pull away to peer at him, moving with lethargic grace. A mix between a groan and a whimper hums at the back of his throat, and you grind against him in response.

“Please…” he breathes, “untie me, torturous thing.”

The grin that spreads across your mouth has hope vanishing, forced to watch as you lean back onto him, weight again shifting. Forced to watch as you ride him to your own pleasure, unable to move you how he wants, watch as your eyes roll back. Nails dig into him, lightly catching the edge of his wing as you retreat, and he nearly reaches his high right then and there. But you retract, chasing your own orgasm, and then you’re fluttering around his cock, cunt spasming as pleasure concentrates in your veins.

It’s only once you’ve slumped back against his thighs that shadows click the key in the lock. And all at once, he’s free. Free to touch you, to grip and grope. Unchained.

A high-pitched moan spills from your mouth into his as he flips you onto your back, hungrily devouring you as you’re pressed into the bed. Hands grip your wrists tight, simulating the torture of his own experiences, pinning you to his bed as he cages you in. Hips drawing back, then slamming in. Tears spill from your eyes, running back into your hair as he fucks you within an inch of a second orgasm.

“Azriel!” You gasp, breath having trouble entering and exiting your lungs from sheer pleasure. Slams in to the hilt, hips grinding against you as he halts his movements. Back arches, bowing off the bed, baring your chest for him to put his teeth over. Canines close around one nipple, pulling and tugging while keeping himself nestled deep in your wet cunt. Tongue circles and flicks over the sensitive peak, suckling lightly before giving his attention to your other.

“Azriel, please…!” You pant, crying out for him to continue, attempting to buck your hips. Trying to stimulate some friction. Pulls away from your breasts, gleaming from attention of his hot, wet mouth. “What do you want?” He growls, hissing from the way you clamp around him at the deep, syrupy pour of his voice, how it licks between your thighs, zaps pleasure to your clit.

Eyes lock together, your own set bright and gleaming from tears. “Move…please. Go harder.” A rough chuckles drags from the back of his throat, carnal and animalistic. Spawning butterflies in your abdomen, fluttering wildly at this untamed side of him. Canines push into the supple skin of your neck, stamping in his mark, printing his ownership onto your body.

Hips drag back. Then slam in.

Mouth parts in pleasure, muscles trembling as the second wave crashes over you, eyes rolling back as he pounds into you. Overstimulation breaks across your skin, the same time you feel him twitch, hot spurts of cum spilling into you. Pumping you full as he continues to abuse you over and over, causing you to shake and tremble while he keeps you pinned to his bed.

It’s only when the last aftershock of pleasure has subsided that he allows you reprieve. Rolling you over so you’re atop him, lazing together in the aftermath of pleasure. The tangle of limbs you’ve created, the mess sticking you together. Shadows lick and flick over your skin, wanting to play. Wanting another turn.

Azriel’s tempted to let them, after the torture you put him through.

Let them return the favour.

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Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming

#Azriel #Azriel x reader #Azriel smut #Azriel x reader smut #Shadowsinger #Azriel shadowsinger #October #shadows #shadow play

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thecuriousquest · 3 months

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MHA Spanking Pain

Multiple MHA Yandere Characters

Warning: Light yandere themes, NSFW (punishment spanking - NOT EROTIC), non consensual punishment spanking, bruising, bare ass spanking, characters 18+, characters can either be platonic or romantic

Master List

—————————————————————————

Bakugou- We already know. Explosions. Murder. JFC wouldn’t even be able to get through the first spank. And he’ll fucking give it to you too. He goes harder than you could have ever imagined. Like, you’re over his knee, bottom bare due to him LITERALLY RIPPING OFF YOUR CLOTHES. They’re just in tattered heaps on the floor along with your dignity.

Deku- Fuck. Really? Goddamnit. Couldn’t even handle it at 2%, and he wants to go 10%?! 😭 You must have really done something to fuck up if he’s pissed enough to spank you that hard.

Shoto- Okay, you were expecting him to heat up his hand. That’s always a given. However, you never FUCKING EXPECTED HIM TO TURN DOWN THE TEMP. His hand is freezing your ass with spanks, and it’s so painful in like a cold and numb sort of way.

Kirishima- You don’t even understand! 😭 When he uses his quirk to spank you, you’re literally bent over in the most degrading way, your skin stretched to his liking to make that sensitive under curve completely visible. And then his hard paw cracks down on your skin as if someone spanked you with a paddle made of concrete. And your scream is so loud that your voice breaks and actually goes out within the first minute.

Denki- When he spanks you and charges his hand with volts of electricity…fuck you’re just fucked. Say your prayers, light a candle for yourself. Do whatever you need to do to mentally prepare for this fucking torture.

Aizawa- He’s got that Dad swing. Hurts like an SOB. Ties you up too. Bitch, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not today, not gonna even be able to walk properly for a while.

Enji- Also has that Dad swing, but he can also heat up his hand and burn your ass.

Overhaul- It hurts, and he makes sure you know what you did was wrong, but you can usually get through it with minimal tears.

Shiggy- Bulked up Shigster makes you wonder what you did in a past life to deserve suffering under his “special spanking” glove. It’s exactly what it sounds like. He has his gloves that make sure he doesn’t decay whatever the fuck he touches. But this support item…whomever made them must either really hate you or they’re really scared of Shiggy. Hurts like a mother fucker.

Dabi- Dear God…his spankings are the worst. First of all, he doesn’t even necessarily need to do this, but he ties you down to the bed. Each limb secured by rope which is attached to each bed post. Either turns up the temp in his hand or just lets the flames do the talking. It really just depends on his mood and the infraction. What’s worse is that sometimes you don’t even do anything to deserve it. He just likes hurting you because you can’t do anything to stop him. 🖕

Mr. Compress- Very old fashioned. Pants and underwear bunched at the ankles with you bent over his knee. Uses his hand or a paddle, sometimes a belt if you’ve been very naughty. However, he always gives you a long winded lecture like a fucking monologue as he spanks you, and his words are what makes it all sooooo much worse. His words actually leave you in tears. Yes, the spanking hurts, but it’s the guilt that ebbs and gnaws at your heart.

Twice- Spanks you and then apologizes because he doesn’t think you deserve it only to laugh at you and do it again. It’s a literal mind fuck, but he’s got you pinned down with a clone. I think a funny idea is him making a clone of himself so that his double can spank you while he watches, and then he says something dumb like “Take your hands off of my woman! That’s kind of hot, do it again!” The pain though…he’s an actual devil, so he’ll spank you rough and raw, bruise you up just with his hand.

Hawks- Lord have mercy! Uses his hand AND a feather, and his feathers are like one of those paddles with the holes drilled into them. It’s the worst being spanked by one of those feathers. He uses spankings for large scale infractions. Punishment is punishment. It’s gotta hurt so you can learn. Quick corrections are done with a few smacks on the spot, typically over your clothes. The big rules you break are ALWAYS done bare with you bent over the back of the couch. He spanks you to tears even if it breaks his heart to do so.

All Might- Heeheehee. Okay, so like if we’re talking bulky All Might, then you know you’re not going to be walking properly until the swelling and bruising goes down. In this form, he doesn’t even need to use an implement. His hand is just fucking enough. If we’re talking depleted All Might…I’m just gonna let you know that his hand is still enough, but he’s more likely to use paddles and belts. I honestly think he’s even old fashioned enough to cut a switch. Either way, your ass is grass, and you’re fearing for your life the moment he forces you over his knee or the bed for a long punishment.

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seuonji · 4 months

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彡 love is in the air. ー yoon jeonghan

๑ a very specific seventeen domestic scenario.

notes ๑ short scenario where you and jeonghan get into an interview session. from your friends.

genre ๑ fluff

warnings ๑ non

word count ๑ 0.4k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3 (i have a bunch of requests and i promise i’ll get to them but have this for now😭😭)

in the kitchen with jeonghan and his friends, seungcheol and joshua.

you four ended up here after running into each other at the grocery store. miraculously, you and jeonghan were getting groceries for your 3rd month together and we’re going to have a grand dinner cooked by you two while seungcheol and joshua were getting ingredients for the dinner jeonghan promptly rejected attending. but the problem wasn’t that jeonghan rejected. it was on the fact of, why were you and jeonghan holding hands and giggling at each other?

“didn’t you two hate each other?” joshua asked with furrowed brows as he almost stood up from his seat.

“so who fell for each other first?” seungcheol tilted his head not able to vision you together at all.

“him.” “yn.” you both said simultaneously.

you slowly turned around from the stove and placed down the wooden spoon you were holding, “you headass it was you.”

jeonghan facing you right after, he had one hand on his hip and with the spatula he was holding he pointed at you with it, “what are you talking about? it was YOU.” the fact he was wearing an apron really tied the picture together.

the bickering went on and whenever you two settled down, the flame was just ignited again as joshua asked more questions.

“who confessed first?” joshua asked while seungcheol’s eyes widened. had joshua not learnt to stop asking questions after the first?

“yn.” “him.” you two said simultaneously again and seungcheol just sighed.

“ohoho, i know you’re not talking, motherfucker you got me flowers and shit and even gave them to me at my doorstep,” you placed your hand on the edge of the stove, expressing your seriousness in the conversation.

“okay but who’s the one that invited me out to lunch and said ‘i really like being with you’?” jeonghan mocked your voice, hand on his hip again.

“that was my response to you after you said ‘i like your company.’”

jeonghan took a look at his friends and side eyes you, “now don’t believe them they can say whatever they want. like right now, they’re lying.”

joshua had you pull you down before you strangle your boyfriend, “i’m going to start recording every fucking thing you say,” you hissed as jeonghan placed his hand on his chest in offence.

this went on for the rest of the night until joshua ran out of questions but at least the food was good. overall it was an eventful celebration.

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literaila · 2 months

Note

what did reader and satoru do when they got called in to the guidance counselor because megumi beat up some kids 😭

it’s safe to say that satoru handles the talking in this particular instance.

because you’re just looking at megumi, arms crossed, face blank. in reality the silence is probably worse than if you were just scolding him.

but you’re not. this is your third time sitting in this office.

megumi is cowering even further into his seat with each second that ticks by.

“he’s a…” satoru is smiling at megumi’s counselor, and you’re glad that he’s charming in his own, foolish way. “problem child. we’re trying to train it out of him, but apparently restricting food isn’t very effective.”

the counselors face is skeptical. you nudge satoru with an elbow without breaking megumi’s gaze.

“kidding,” satoru laughs. “i’m just kidding. please don’t report us.”

“this is his second suspension,” the counselor says. “if he gets a third—“

“he’ll be expelled?” you ask, raising a brow not at him, but your little boy.

the twelve year old who really knows better.

“yes. we do not tolerate physical altercations, but witness accounts say that mr. fushiguro was defending a child from another student.”

satoru hums and you just stare.

the man sitting in front of you looks very confused. the three of you are communicating in hand gestures and looks that he doesn’t—and shouldn’t—understand.

he clears his throat. “so, we’ll just have you sign this acknowledgment, and megumi can resume class again at the start of next week.”

“great!” satoru claps his hands together. “hear that? next week?” he pokes your side, glasses sliding down his nose.

“uh-huh.”

megumi winces.

“…i’ll sign then. do you have a pen?”

and then the three of you are walking out of the school doors, satoru’s hand on megumi’s shoulder, and your eyes on every inch of him. he’s got a cut on his cheek and bruises along his hands.

it’s not that you’re not used to it—more that you’re not used to it on a small little boy.

and megumi is glowering.

satoru tries to get your attention with a hand, but you don’t bother to give him the time of day. honestly, right now you’re preoccupied with your son—your son who is about to be kicked out of school.

“i’m sorry—“

“do your hands hurt?”

you and megumi say at the same time, and his eyes whip towards yours, blue and guilty.

seriously, for someone with no biological ties to satoru, he really does look like him.

“you’re sorry?”

“i know i shouldn’t—“ megumi stops, groaning. he turns toward you. “i just… there were these boys and they were trying to mess with this other kid and i—“

“he was trying to help,” satoru says, ruffling his hair.

megumi nods.

you raise a brow. “why are you on his side?”

“because it was just a normal fistfight,” satoru abswers, shaking his head. “remember last time? with the cursed energy thing?” he’s smiling like he’s won this argument.

you sigh.

“i’m sorry. really. but i couldn’t just watch them bully someone else.”

“of course you couldn’t, ‘gumi. you’re a fighter,” satoru pinches his cheeks.

“we are not praising this behavior.”

“i’m just stating a fact!”

“megumi, what’s the one rule we set for school?”

megumi kicks at the ground. “don’t get into fights.”

“then why’d you do it, kid?”

“clearly, those devil children—“

“satoru.”

satoru mimes zipping his mouth shut and you both look to megumi.

megumi bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “i don’t know.”

at that, your entire body softens. it’s true that you and satoru have tried your best—but the mind of a twelve year old boy is a strange place.

if you hid in the pantry when you were scared as a little girl, then megumi goes down swinging.

you crouch down, finger nudging his chin so he’ll look at you. “if you can’t handle school, being around those kids then we need to figure something else out, megumi. you can’t hurt people—even if they’re being mean.”

“i know.”

satoru messes with his hair again. “ah, he reminds me of myself. so strong and intelligent.”

“you’re not helping.”

“don’t you agree, megumi?” satoru asks the boy, ignoring you.

you sigh, standing up again. “let’s go home. we’ll talk more later.”

this time, satoru moves between you and megumi, slinging an awkward arm around both of your shoulders. “well, i think it all worked out splendidly.”

“shut up, satoru.”

“what? my son won his fist fight and my wife isn’t pouting anymore.”

“i was not pouting.”

“i thought we weren’t supposed to lie around the—“

#gojo x reader #a typical family

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thursdaygxrls · 4 months

Note

this is a bit self indulgent to request lol but i’m very partial to any hunger games au just so my babies arent as traumatized by the end lmao😭

maybe pirate!finnick x reader where they take r captive? finnick brings her some food and makes sure the other pirates keep away from r

anon, i do not know how i feel about this one. i absolutely loved this request, but i may have screwed up the pic. apologies 🙏 i tried using second person for the first time also. the beginning may be confusing, please bear with me

a simple mistake

pairing pirate!finnick odair x maid!reader

summary when the pirates of the mockingjay planned to kidnap the princess, they thought everything would go smoothly. however, there's one big problem: they kidnapped the wrong girl.

warnings unedited shitty writing, kidnapping, guns, gale, modern language in a different time period

Wherever you were, it was dark. Or maybe it was just the blindfold.

It felt like moments ago that you were tucked cozily into her bed, your body encased by down. There was a crash somewhere in the castle - down the hall? You were only half awake as cloth that smelled like dirt and saltwater wrapped itself tightly around your eyes, and you were dragged from her slumber.

This was a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. Tried tried to explain this to her captors as they tugged her, but all you could muster was a few muffled noises over the bitter-tasting gag tied around you. To their credit, those holding you right now were strong and fast: they kept a tight grip on her arm while being able to shove you forward at a fast pace. Lost in your panic, you didn't catch what they were saying to each other: "Are you sure this is her?" "Yes, I'm sure. To the right, four doors down from the window."

"Your right or his right?" "The right of the window!"

They kept their tone hushed as they began to descend a staircase. In the back of your mind, you recognized the pattern in which the steps descended: one, two, three, four, turn, five, six, seven, eight, turn - they were headed down the servant's staircase in the back of the castle. There was an exit hatch at the bottom.

With little hope, you thrashed in their grip. As expected, they handled it with ease. The thought that this may be a normal occurrence swirled in your brain, inciting more and more fear.

"Would you stop? It's hard enough going down these steps without someone kicking at me," the person to your left huffed. His tone was odd. For being the perpetrator of a kidnapping, there was no biting edge to his words.

Your bare feet hit the dewy grass with no warning. In between racing thoughts and heaved breaths, you'd made it to the exit. It was summer, but the coolness of the night air settled over your skin and made you shiver. You were only in your night shift, after all: shabby cloth that provided a nearly sufficient amount of modesty.

Boom!

The noise has you screaming against the cloth as the two holding you swear.

Boom!

There it was again, loud and threatening.

“Guards are a worse shot than I thought,” the man to your left says as they pick up the pace.

Boom!

Oh, God, the guards were shooting at them — were shoot at you! Hushed prayers are whispered from your lips, though, they’re unintelligible. The person to your right must pick up on the trembling in your body because they begin moving at an impossibly faster speed. You wonder how they haven’t fainted by now, how you haven’t fainted by now.

“Don’t worry,” they say, speaking to you through the gunshots, “Never had cargo die on us before. Plus, it’s not you they’re shooting at, it’s us.”

This does nothing to quell your fears, but a new sensation under your feet works to distract your ever rushing mind. If it wasn’t for the two people practically carrying you, you would be sinking in the soft earth beneath you. It was a bit coarse, but delicate, and parted to make way for your feet. Was it sand? There was yelling in all directions: next to you, behind, in front. Then you hit an incline, and the softness of the sand roughened under your feed. You were rocking, too, and not just you, the ones holding you up. There was a crash entirely unlike the sound of the guns, and another sway — oh, fuck.

This was a ship.

“They’re on us!” One of them screamed as you plateaued to a surface

“In a minute, they won’t even see us,” a gruff voice responded, seemingly unfazed by nearing sound of gunshots. There was a loud groan and suddenly, you were moving. Though the two still had a strong hold on you, you stumbled as the ship began to move. The gunshots, which had been getting louder, were sounding much more distant. Even if it was only a minute or two since you’d been hoisted onto the ship, it felt like hours.

“I was hoping this would be a clean job, y’know, no—” The gruff voice which had spoken before stopped. You could hear an unsteady breath as footsteps neared you.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

And then there was light, nearly blinding from the amount of time you’d spent in the dark. The owner of the voice ripped the cloth from your eyes in one swoop, and you cringed at the bleeding dawn along the horizon.

“What?” You whipped your head to the left, finding a tall older boy with dark brown hair and bright eyes.

“This is not the Princess.” You could now see the owner of the gruff voice, who was a middle-aged man with greasy, chin length blonde hair and scruff around his chin. His eyes were trained on you as he spoke.

“What?” The boy repeated.

“You grabbed the wrong goddamn girl, Gale,” the man’s voice boomed.

“I told you something was off,” the man on the right — tall and bald — groaned.

“Why the hell did you not say that before you kidnapped her?” The blonde man huffed.

“I did!” He argued back.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Gale spoke up.

“I…I don’t know,” the blonde sighed, “We can’t go back now, not like this. They’ll have the land and water covered in an hour. Just take her down.”

“Haymitch, I’m really—”

“Just take her down, Gale,” Haymitch, the blonde man, repeated in a stern tone. The boy bowed his head, and the bald man followed suit, turning you and hauling you away from the front of the deck. Had you not been so dimmed with exhaustion from running from gunfire and screaming against the gag in your mouth, you may have done a little more fighting during that conversation. Instead, you studied the crew of the ship who were running around as though you didn’t exist. They shouted at each other, likely still executing their speedy getaway off the main island. As they lead you to the door at the middle of the dock, you noticed Gale eyeing you.

“You’re…not the Princess?” He asked quietly.

“She can’t speak,” the bald man rolled his eyes before taking the gag from your mouth. Immediately, you heaved in a deep breath, finding that the air was still salty even without the seawater-flavored gag.

“You’re not?” Gale repeated his question as though you didn’t hear him.

“No.” You found your voice to be hoarse, but forceful as you glared at him. In finding this voice, questions exploded from your mouth.

“What the hell is going on? Let me go! Why did you take me? Where am I?” They ignored these questions.

“We should’ve asked her first,” the bald man groaned.

“She would’ve said ‘no’ even if she was the Princess!” Gale yelled. They pushed past the door and lead you down the steps to a small hall. They turned onto the first room.

“Well, we’re here,” Gale sighed, letting go of your arm. Your limbs felt like jelly from being pulled and shoved for so long, however, you tried your hand at pushing past them and running. The question of where you would go was a thought for later.

“Woah,” the bald man immediately grabbed ahold of you as you attempted your escape, “Please try to stay put, alright? There’s not many places for you to go.”

“Why am I here?” You asked again, your tone laced with anger.

“Just sit tight for a while, okay?” Gale spoke awkwardly as he and the other man kept you still.

“Sit tight?” You repeated indignantly.

“Please just go sit, I don’t want to tie you up,” the bald man sighed. To your surprise, there was genuine sympathy in his voice. Even so, you stared at them, unmoving. This silent chess match carried on for another thirty seconds before a groan left Gale, and he shoved you to the floor. Your behind hit the floor hard, and before you could scramble to pick yourself up, they were out the door. You got to your feet and helplessly tried the doorknob, but it was already locked.

“That was just plain rude,” you could hear the muffled voice of the bald man through the door, “What’s wrong with you, man?”

“She wasn’t moving,” Gale’s voice was somewhat unfazed.

“You’re an ass, really.” The voices faded out, and it was then, for the first time in what seemed like forever, that you were alone. The room was small, wooden, and windowless. There was a cot with a threadbare blanket and a sorry excuse for a pillow on one end and a tattered table and chair on the other.

You tried to find ways to occupy yourself: banging on the door, screaming, punching the pillow, questioning God, picking at the wood, acquiring splinters. Any amount of time could’ve passed: seconds, minutes, hours, days. Well, maybe not days, but it felt like it. You were laying on the cot, counting the rings in the ceiling when the lock jostled. You sat straight up, jumping from your bed when the door opened. You rushed at the entry, only to be blocked by a rough hand.

“They said you’re quick,” a mellow voice followed the hand. This wasn’t the man who demanded you were taken here or either of the ones who followed his orders; he was new. Sandy blonde hair that gently spiked on his head, tanned skin, likely from his days on the deck, dark blue eyes, and pink lips that stretched into a crooked smile. While one of his arms kept you secure, the other held a tray with a portion of bread, a bowl, and a metal cup.

“What is going on?” You asked gruffly.

“I can tell you, but you have to promise you won’t run the second I step away from this door,” he said, looking a bit more calm than one might expect. You, still staring him down, considered the options, and with a relenting sigh, backed away. He entered the room, that easy smile still on his face as he shut the door behind him.

“So,” He spoke, eyeing you, “I take it you’re not the Princess.”

“No, I am not,” you responded, voice terse with frustration.

“I see,” he nodded, then gestured towards the cot for you to sit. You obliged cautiously. As far as kidnappings went, this one was rather polite — but it was still a kidnapping.

“I can assure you that the plan was not to kidnap you,” he sighed, taking a seat at the table. He extended the tray of food towards you, but you don’t take it. Not yet.

“And what was the plan?” You asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Well, darlin’,” he began, “The plan was to kidnap the Princess and ransom her back. Take that money and spread it across the islands, give back to those who need it.” Suspicion peaked in you, and it was obvious he could tell, because his smile stretched further.

“What, don’t believe me?” He hummed, cocking his head.

“Would you trust someone who stole you?” You fired back. He laughed gently at that.

“Probably not, but you’re lucky it was instead of anyone else,” he spoke.

“Lucky?” You repeated with a scoff.

“Darlin’, this ship we’re on? It’s the Mockingjay,” he set his palm on his knee. This struck a chord; the Mockingjay. You’d heard of them before, just rumors. Some called them the gentle pirates, others called them weaklings. They took what they wanted with force, but never caused any casualties.

“I’m Finnick,” he interrupted your thoughts suddenly, extending his hand, “And I’m just dying to know your name.”

Though you took his hand with reluctance, you didn’t speak a word. This creased a wrinkle along his forehead.

“I think it’s best if we do introductions now rather than later,” he said, keeping his deep blue eyes on you. A sigh escaped you before you turned from his gaze and towards the ceiling.

“Y/n,” you replied quietly.

“Pretty name. Wish we were meeting under different circumstances, but I’ll take what I can get,” he grinned, “Who are you, Y/n?”

“I’m a maid,” you spoke, unsure why you replied instead of ignoring him, “The Princess’s Lady in Waiting. Her companion.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed, “That’s why you had yourself a room up there. You and the Princess close?” You don’t respond to this, jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry for this, Y/n, truly,” he frowned, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“But it was a kidnapping all the same,” you sigh.

“You’re right. You’re right, but we’re not perfect people. We do what we have to. And right now,” he grabbed the tray once more, extending it towards you, “I have to make sure you eat.”

“Aren’t you supposed to give me the tray and leave?” You glared at him.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, the tray still in his hands, “I guess I do what I want. And I want to sit with you while you eat.”

“Why?” You don’t let up with your accusing gaze.

“I wouldn’t want a pretty lady starving on my ship. That would just break my heart,” he grinned. Another second of silence.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, a weak shudder in your voice betraying your cold stare. It would make sense, after all: you were useless. The King wouldn’t pay a ransom for a maid.

“What?” The question seemed to genuinely shock him, “No, oh, God, no. I wouldn’t lay a hand on you.”

“What about them out there? The rest of the crew?” You gestured to the door.

“They wouldn’t either, but even if they tried, I wouldn’t let them get to you,” he spoke, surprisingly reassuring, “You’re not going to be killed, I can assure you of that.”

You swallowed hard, finally looking back at him to see the genuine look in his eyes. He seemed kind, which was strange. Was it some sort of manipulation tactic? A means to an end?

“Are you going to eat, or should I start spoon-feeding you?” He asked, that easy smile appearing on his face once more. Hesitantly, you took the plate from his hands. He stayed there, sitting across from you, watching you lift the cup to your mouth. Sadly, you couldn’t deny your manners, and before you took a sip, you looked at him.

“Thank you, Finnick,” you mumbled.

“My pleasure, Darlin’,” he replied, grinning as you tucked into your meal.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick imagine #thg finnick #pirate!finnick #pirate!finnick x reader #the hunger games #pirate au #pirates #thursday writes

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

Note

Not too sure if you’ve done this but can you do TADC x Ghost!reader? Like they’re kinda just wearing a white sheet with black holes that resemble eyes, but there’s like nothing under the sheet so when it’s pulled off it looks like no one’s there

TADC cast x ghostsheet!reader !

Wasnt sure if I shouldve said ghostsheet or ghost... ghost implies like, traditional ghost but ghostsheet ties in the... sheet..

Still a lil sick and imma be blunt (not to you but in general.. actually I had ideas for nearly everyone for this idea!) I do be struggling with coming up with ideas for some characters for some requests <\3 I feel so bad when a characters part is dry or short 😭😭 I promise I'm invested in yalls ideas but some prompt/charafter combos do not give me many ideas <\3

CAINE:

Assuming this is romantic imagine he tries to lift up your sheet.. probably says something about "wanting a lil sneak peek of his darling" or maybe even making a joke that the sheet is a veil.. only to pause when theres visibly nothing there. His jaws probably hang open before he composes himself and tries to play off his shock with quick witted flirting. Of course this is all stemming off the idea that you forget to tell him/he has yet to see your sheet fall off so..!

POMNI:

Depending on how long your sheet is (mentally I'm seeing it at the ankle... oddly enough I can see the reader wearing these sneakers) she probably finds out you're... invisible... after accidentally stepping on the back of your sheet and pulling it off. Stops mid apology before just absolutely freaking out. Probably let's out a choked out scream thinking she just krilled you before you slap a hand over her mouth, so no one rushes in to see the commotion.. it's a little embarrassing for both sides...! You're basically nude..!!!/j

Or actually who knows, maybe the reader views it like that... I dont know the readers personality

RAGATHA:

Ooo okay so I think she would give you cute little pins and patches for you, so you can personalize your sheet more! Also ties in the hc that ragatha makes handmade stuff for her friends/partners!

A little thrown off guard when you go sheetless around her for the first time, but she quickly shrugs it off. Pro not the weirdest thing shes seen in the circus!

Offers to make you entirely new sheets, with patches and patterns and all that now that she knows it detachable

JAX:

Does the same thing as pomni except he would do it on purpose. Or maybe he yoinks your sheet and tries to make a run for it.... before stopping dead in his tracks when he turns around and you're seemingly not there. Of course assuming this is his first time snatching your sheet

Kind of just

Stands there

A little confused, really

Also assuming reader doesnt have shoes and just has their dogs out/j

Lets out a short Yelp when the sheet is suddenly torn out of his hand

I know you may be thinking that he would try to recruite you for his pranks but I wholeheartedly believe he would be terrified of you. Like all you have to do is take the sheet off and you can be hiding anywhere. For all he knows YOURE planning to do something to him, prank wise

Also likes having his pranks me a surprise

KINGER:

He sees your sheet abandoned on the ground and he thinks you melted, or perhaps you can "collapse" like gangle... huh, weird... goes to pick your sheet up, asking if you're alright. Before jumping st least 2 feet in the air when your voice answers his question... from behind him...

Oh reader please please dont do that ever again, his poor digital heart cant handle scares like that.. paranoia or not, I think kinger always hated jumpscares. Long before he entered the circus

Please apologize to him

ZOOBLE:

Now ZOOBLE would ask you to cause some mischief when they find out you're invisible under the sheet. Except, only target it to one person... jax. I mean think about it, zooble already doesnt seem to like him... and they're probably annoyed about the whole "stealing your arm to scratch my own back thing"... I mean I doubt it's the first time jax has messed with zooble, considering he did it so casually and how he treats the others... so if you're... down with a little haunting..

Similar to ragatha, I dont think theyd be all that phased. If anything they would think it's cool! I already hc that before getting stuck in the circus, zooble was into cryptids and the supernatural as well as general "disturbing" topics, so ghosts are right up their alley...... even if you're not really a ghost

GANGLE:

Thinks the sheet is cute! I was gonna say she finds out after accidentally tripping over your sheet and pulling it off, but... I actually.. dont know if gangle has heavy enough feet to do that

I mean she's ribbon

I think it would be revealed when you casually ask if you can.. "get comfortable" while in her room while you guys are drawing

Obviously, she says yes, because who wouldnt want someone to be comfortable... before literally dropping her comedy mask in shock when you literally. Take the sheet off

Of course this is assuming you dont view it as being nude, as opposed to pomnis segment but

Yeah

Tries not to make a big deal of it, last thing she wants is for you to feel bad... definitely takes her s minute to compose herself...

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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altf4d3lete · 8 days

Text

Episode One this is single-handedly bringing back my obsession even though it never left

- its 2022. Why is everyone freaked out bc a girl wears all black. Like people do that on a daily basis nowadays

- PUGSLEY POOR GUY :(

- “I want names” didn’t you JUST see them walking away from the locker

- Stop shoving him in a locker tied up is actually so mean wtf

- I see people use this piranha scene as justification that she’d be okay with murder, but really it’s justification that she wouldn’t be okay with people hurting her friends and those she cares about AT ALL. She’s trying to KILL these guys just for bullying their brother. Imagine what she’d do to Tyler for hurting Eugene and Enid.

- The intro is SO fucking cool

- Emma was so far down on the list of actors and now my girl is #3 behind Jenna and buscemi. She’s a main character now B)

- If I were Wednesday I’d be pissed too. I CANT with the parents. Like I love you but RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER 😭

- It’s five minutes in and I have so many notes

- Have to say again with the “terrible, they’d know I didn’t get the job done” that Wednesday is MORBID, not okay with murder unless she deems the person deserves it

- Ergh there is clearly so much discrimination against outcasts

- Weems and morticia r lowkey giving homoerotic rivalry…

- I FORGOT HOW FUNNY WEDNESDAY IS

- I genuinely can’t even like… I CANT WHY DID WEEMS PAIR HER WITH ENID 😭

- Guys Enid is SO cute holy fuck. She is UNPHASED bro, she’s just so excited to have a roommate she’s so cute I’m sobbing. She just wanted to accept Wednesday.

- YALL WHEN THEYRE WALKING DOWN THE STEPS WEDNESDAY LITERALLY GRAVITATES TOWARDS ENID. LITERALLY RUNS INTO HER

- Wednesday just lies about killing two kids to Enid and Enid just moved on like nothing happened.

- Also HELLO? THEIR BANTER? Enid takes NO shit 😭

- Hmm part of me wonders if those wolves howling were making fun of Enid.

- They’re literally leaning into each other wha

- “You better watch your back” and Wednesday is behind her that’s so funny

- How do you go from “cute but clueless” to “obsessed” enjax was lowkey forced whereas wenclair had chemistry from the beginning

- AW PUGSLEY HES SO CUTE

- Wednesday being a housewife will NEVER make sense

- I know people hate the relationship between Wednesday and morticia but it’s very realistic. You can easily tell they still love each other despite the harsh words.

- YEESH THE HYDE TORE HIM APART (I think this works with my theory that the more Tyler is aware of the Hyde, the more controlled his attacks get. Which also means that he knew what he was doing when he killed Kinbott, leaving her alive to taste her fear. And he knew what he was doing in the forest when he tried to kill Wednesday and nearly attacked his father)

- WENCLAIR FIGHT THEYRE SO FUNNY TOGETHER THEY ARGUE LIKE AN OLD COUPLE

- when did Wednesday check out enid’s blog. How and why.

- THE LITTLE SCOFF BEFORE “you mean emojis?”

- Enid huffing is crazy girly is ANGRY

- The way they just stare each other down is crazy wenclair is SO full of banter I forgot how hilarious they are

- ENID SIDE EYES WEDNESDAY SO MUCH

- Bianca lowkey eating everyone up…

- Bianca is so aggressive in her fighting style, whereas Wednesday is precise. It’s really cool

- THE GASPING IN THE BACKGROUND AFTER “let’s see if you bleed in black and white.”

- Xavier scoffs so much in this show and every time he does it lowkey makes me hate him more

- “No good deed goes unpunished” okay elphaba

- Girly was smiling when she was about to die.

- DUDE WHY WAS XAVIER LEANING OVER HER? WHO DOES THAT? JUST SIT DOWN NEXT TO HER.

- “Call it instinct” shut up actually

- Bro she had NO clue who Xavier was 😭

- It bothers me that ppl think she cared Xavier was in the coffin. She just wanted to see the godmother come back to life fr

- THING HAHA MY FAV

- I would be flabbergasted if my therapist read the equivalent of my journal before our sessions. She never should have been sent that.

- Ergh Tyler…

- The deep voice lowkey sounds really forced, idk what it is about Tyler’s voice but it bugs me. I think it’s the way his lines always kinda have the same delivery.

- Twenty bucks when he probably makes that in like half a day of work 😭

- The pilgrims look like such dorks bro who are they tryna scare 💀

- Why are they asking her if she’s “been with a normie” that’s so weird

- “THIS LITTLE THING TOOK DOWN THREE BOYS???” HELP

- Her playing with the necklace means everything to me

- Damn the hiker was the third victim

- The sheet music doesn’t match what she was playing but that doesn’t rly matter

- Love that enid went from disgusted to things bff

- Their roof scene is so meaningful to me. They work so well together. Enid doesn’t need anyone but Wednesday and Wednesday doesn’t need anyone but Enid. Enid teaches her how to relate to others and feel empathy and Wednesday teaches Enid to unapologetically be herself.

- Nero :(

- Them bonding is so cute 😭 this is rekindling my obsession

- Notice the immediate disrespect from Tyler but Enid gets close with thing so quickly

- Damn Enid is suspicious. Bro has some killer instincts

- “Hint taken” and Xavier proceeds to KEEP talking to her

- So Wednesday gives Tyler a time and place and you’re telling me it’s just a coincidence that those three pilgrims show up at that exact time at place? Literally there WAITING? No way. Tyler had to have told them, sorry about it.

- I lowkey feel bad for Weems. She’s a little controversial but she was just trying to do her best for nevermore

- Nah man that was an absolute ploy. There’s no way they just happened to know where to be. Tyler was trying to keep her from leaving. He already knew who she was by then and that they needed her.

- Rowan was so conflicted he didn’t deserve to die. He was just trying to protect people

- The way she scrambled over to him even after he tried to kill her :(

- YALL I LOVE THIS SHOW WTF 😭

#wednesday #netflix #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #tyler galpin #xavier thorpe #bianca barclay

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voltronisanobsession · 5 months

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Hii, I hope you are having a good day or night! I've recently read your platonic yandere voltron things. And I was wondering if you would make some more headcanons? Or stories with platonic yandere? Here are some ideas you could write either a few headcanons or a story about, for if you have low inspiration. Kidnapped reader with platonic yandere voltron, maybe by an alien species who wanted to help the reader? How would the team react? What would they do? Or maybe the reader get really sick which isn't easily cured cue the panic from the team? Again, just so you know I really like your work! So keep up the good work, and thank you for making your works in the first place! Take good care of yourself, and stay hydrated!

Yandere Voltron’s Reaction to Reader being Taken

O M G DONT EVEN PLAY WITH ME RNNNN!!!! I absolutely LOVE yandere voltron like they’re so fun to write for🤞😜 I love the idea of the group just going crazy if reader were to escape UGHH

tysm pookie, take care of yourself too and ENJOY THIISSSS

OK YOU JUST SPURRED IDEAS INTO MY HEAD

I can already imagine the group going crazy when reader suddenly gets swept up right from their grasp out of nowhere by some random spaceship

I know you said some kind of an alien species taking reader but hear me out

It’s LOTOR AND HIS LITTLE GROUPIES OOOOO

It’s painfully obvious that you’re the real star in voltron seeing as how possessive and protective they are of you, hiding you away whenever danger is nearby

So it only makes sense to Lotor to just kidnap you as leverage for his plans

Little did he know that you would be THANKING him for taking you away from the group lmao😭

Imagine your tied up and homeboys getting ready to explain his super mastermind plan to you when all of a sudden you start rambling about how good it feels to be away from them

“Nothing personal, you were the only thing holding that sad excuse of a team together, so I needed you out of the picture for now.” Cue smirk

“UGH THANK GOD! I was literally starting to lose my mind in there, you have no IDEA how needy they all are.”

Now cue a dumbfounded Lotor

He was not expecting reader to be so relaxed considering how he just snatched you up out of nowhere

You’re just chilling while looking around his ship, maybe making conversation with his generals

You finally get a break from the constant attention and possessiveness, ANYTHING is better than being around the group

While you’re happily talking your voice away with Lotor a group, everyone in the castle is freaking the fuck out

It’s bad enough that they let you slip away from their grasp, it’s worse knowing it was Lotor who took you away💀

We all know how Lance feels about Lotor so I think he would have one of the more extreme reactions to you being taken away

Probably starts pointing fingers and starts blaming everyone for not being able to keep you safe

Lowkey begins targeting Keith because it’s somehow always his fault when something goes wrong💀💀

Lance might even starting crying and wailing out for you with Hunk when the situation finally hits him

Keith is also another one to have a more violent outburst during and after your disappearance

He’s someone I see with strong emotions that he doesn’t know how to handle yet so we already know how he might act

Agitated? Yes. Scared? For you, yeah. Furious? Oh honey absolutely.

Keith might have almost caught you too, but he didn’t. He’s so angry with everything and mostly himself that’s he’s pushing everyone else’s buttons, trying to convince the group that the only right choice is immediately going after you

He’s too anxious now that you’re not in his line of sight, making him kinda desperate to get you back again

Hear me out but I think the calmest ones would PROBABLY be Shiro and Pidge

Now I’m not saying that they’re CALM but they have the nerves mostly in tact

They’re already trying to locate where you are with the secret tracker that have on you so it doesn’t really benefit them to try and blame someone for what happened to you

Pidge’s hands shake while she’s working her whizz tho. She has to type, erase, and retype every now and then because of how nervous and anxious she is

She’s so used to having you around that now her brain can’t function properly without you

She doesn’t want to lose you like how she lost her brother and father so Pidge is trying her best to have a one track mind

Shiro on the other hand is more level headed

He really does try to calm the group down as best as he could but with Lance and Hunk crying, Keith yelling at them to get up and do something, Pidge taking a long time to track you down, and Allura and Coran seemingly in an entire different universe, he can’t help but feel the pressure of this disaster falling on his shoulders

This man is ready to just end Lotor when they find him like I’m not even joking

Everyone is getting on this man’s nerves and knowing that you’re trapped with Voltrons enemy doesn’t really make him feel any better

Hunk might even strike fear into Shiro while he’s babbling on about if you’re hurt or not, if they’re torturing you to get any information out of you etc

Poor Hunk is a flood gate at this point. One moment you’re right next to him and the next you’re not

He’s having a complete meltdown in a corner, maybe trying to comfort himself with a small picture of a selfie you both took together

This dude is already imagining all these terrible scenarios you could possibly be in which makes him feel even more terrible

Quite literally feels like he’s gonna throw up now when he begins thinking about how he’ll never see you again

Allura and Coran are surprising quite and calm during all this

They’d keep to themselves but know that they’re going through some extreme inner turmoil

It’s kind of like Allura disconnected herself from the world ever since you’ve been taken

Her skin itches to run out and grab a pod to find you herself but she knows it’s a brash idea

The only thing she does is mull over the idea of making Lotor regret messing with Voltron

BUT TO MAKE A LONG STORY SHORTT

They are willing to do anything to get you back, not caring for the description they’ll leave along the way

The longer your gone the less control and stability they’ll have as a group

Desperate and irrational are some words to describe them during your being away from them

They will stop at nothing to have you back with them, some more destructive and violent than others

No one holds back when getting you back from Lotor, leaving his ships wrecked and forcing him to put his plans on pause as he recovers

Who knows, maybe him and his group might’ve grown similar possessive feelings towards you as well with the time you spent with them? HMMMM

#voltron x reader #voltron legendary defender x reader #vld x reader #voltron legendary defender #vld #voltron #voltron headcanons #yandere keith x reader #yandere Keith kogane x reader #keith kogane x reader #yandere Lance McClain #yandere pidge gunderson x reader #yandere voltron x reader #yandere voltron #yandere hunk #yandere shiro #vld headcanons #yandere vld x reader #voltron imagine

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venusgirltarot · 10 months

Text

How Is Your Person Feeling About You? ࿐ྂ。

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here!

Pile 1 ࿐

Pile one, your person may be someone you knew years ago. A childhood friend or a short fling that just wasn’t right at the time. You’ve either found each other again or never left and have been friends this whole time. Your person feels like they never quite match up to you and I heard “your expectations” but I don’t think you have or have ever had expectations for them. You’ve always loved them as themselves but they don’t seem to realize that.

If you guys have been friends, they may have seen you in other relationships and compare themselves to your exes, always feeling like they don’t quite measure up. They also compare themselves to you, they feel like you always do things by the book and you’re very intelligent. Maybe they feel you’ve gone about things in the way society deems as “correct” or “ideal”. For example, going to college right after high school, getting good grades, holding a stable job, etc. or possibly have a good family and home life that they don’t have.

They may have taken the steps to turn themselves into the person they feel is deserving of you and your attention. Possibly becoming someone you don’t really recognize anymore. This could be because you don’t really recognize them but could also be because they’ve distanced themselves from you so you haven’t gotten the chance to know this new version of them because they haven’t given you that chance.

There’s a distance between the two of you that seems to he fueled by this stubbornness and refusal to let your guard down and just open up to each other. You may have been in or recently gotten out of a relationship that upset this person. They may have finally come to terms with their romantic feelings for you and we’re thinking about opening up to you when you got into this relationship and it made them distance themselves and possibly even have resentment for you and this relationship.

There’s a lack of communication that I really think the two of you could benefit from. I think a conversation could change everything for the two of you if you just have it a chance and opened up to each other.

During the reading I heard “always an angel never a god” from a boygenius song (I’m so sorry I can’t remember which) “never could quite measure up” “one step ahead of you” and I channeled the song “The Less I Know The Better” by Tame Impala

Pile 2 ࿐

You may have recently ended things with this person or cut ties and moved on. You felt your needs weren’t being met and the energy wasn’t being reciprocated so you “kept it moving” is what I heard and “nobody has time for that” as well 😭 you knew you were deserving of more so you decided to leave this connection behind and go find more and you made a good decision in doing that.

I kept hearing “Everything I Didn’t Say” by 5SOS when I was shuffling. It seems like your person understands that there’s more they could’ve done but at the same time, I don’t think they’re expressing that to you. They may have entered this connection with the idea that it would be “easy” or “low maintenance” so they could focus on their career and put you on the back burner and didn’t take any of your issues or needs seriously. They didn’t expect you to walk away but refuse to see that their lack of communication and refusal to contribute to it was the real downfall of the relationship.

They may have the idea that material things like clothes, flowers, dinners, etc. would’ve fixed it when emotional connection and vulnerability is what you really wanted. I heard “you didn’t ever really know me” there was a lack of any sort of connection in this relationship and this person’s failure to realize that just cements the fact that walking away is the best decision you could’ve made.

I think you would have fully supported them in pursuing their career had they communicated that with you but they failed to do that and continue to lack the communication and emotional maturity needed to maintain a stable and healthy relationship.

You have an amazing person coming in, pile 2. Someone that’s understand and appreciates you and your energy. Someone that doesn’t neglect you, your wants, or your needs. There’s someone coming in that is worth your time and energy but that is not this person and you did the right thing by walking away. Please don’t ever doubt that. I heard “stay true to yourself” and “keep it moving”

Pile 3 ࿐

Don’t hold yourself back, pile 3. You may have met this person recently at a group outing/event or work. I heard “that’s my man” while shuffling. This is oddly specific but Taylor Swift may have been playing in the background when you met this person. You may have been in a group of people but your full attention was on each other, even if you two didn’t notice the other staring. There were a lot of stolen glances between the two of you and very subtle flirting. Subtle enough that you’re still questioning whether or not they were flirting with you. They were. The feelings are very much mutual.

You may be rejecting yourself before this person gets the chance to. Shutting down the idea of the two of you as couple to save yourself from hurt because for some reason you’re so sure it won’t but what if it does? What if you talk to them and they tell you your feelings are mutual and you finally get to feel that love you see everyone else receiving but have never received yourself? Stop letting your fears and insecurities hold you back and take that chance.

You’re worthy of love and affection from not only yourself, but others as well. This person is not “too good” for you and it is possible that they could like you back because they do. I heard “like a lot” 😭 the feelings are most definitely mutual, stop doubting yourself. Stop thinking no one could ever have a crush on you because they can and they do because of course they would. You’re amazing, stop doubting that. Why are you fighting your own happiness? It’s here. The love you’ve been wanting and fantasizing about is here, fall into it and stop questioning yourself.

I don’t have to tell you what this person is feeling for you because your feelings are identical. What you feel for them they feel for you. You’re definitely mirroring each other. Don’t take anything too seriously and approach this connection in a light playful way and see where it goes.

I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace, clarification, or happiness! Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light!

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c-e-d-dreamer · 16 days

Text

When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 4

A/N: I'd say I'm sorry this chapter is so long, but I feel like no one actually wants to hear that. We've got a little bit of everything! Cassian getting his ass handed to him. Nessian banter. Mama A being the worst. And SMUT! Anyways, hope everyone enjoys

Additional note: I'm really sorry to everyone on my tag list. Tumblr won't let me tag any accounts for some reason. It won't let me select when I paste it in and it keeps saying "no blogs found" when I try typing manually which I know is a damn lie 😭

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Cassian watches as Nesta works through the combination, fists hitting against Cresseida’s raised palms. Her hair is tied back in a braid that runs down her back, the strands swishing across her shoulder blades with each movement and glinting beneath the rays of the afternoon sun. She’s been at it for a while, pink coloring the apples of her cheeks and stretching down her throat to her collarbones, and even from where he’s standing, Cassian can see the beads of sweat speckled across her skin.

Before he can stop them, his thoughts start to spiral down and down. He still remembers the last time he saw that sheen along her skin. Still remembers exactly how far down that flush can go. His body still too keyed-up after sleeping beside her the night before. He has to tilt his head up toward the sky with a sigh, determined to cool the heat sparking and simmering in his veins.

When Cassian focuses his attention back down, Nesta and Cresseida have moved on to sword practice. Wooden sword in hand, Nesta moves first slowly then with more speed through the steps Cresseida directs. Cassian keeps waiting for Cresseida to correct Nesta’s stance, but after the fourth repetition, he can’t take it any longer, striding across the training rings.

“Watch your foot.”

Nesta sighs at the sound of his voice, dropping her wooden sword to her side and turning to him with an unimpressed expression. “What?”

“Your foot. You’re turning it inward each time you lunge,” Cassian explains, gesturing down toward the foot in question. “You’ll lose strength and control doing that.”

Nesta glances down to her own feet, and Cassian wonders briefly if she intends to ignore the advice out of pure stubbornness, out of pure, witchy spite. Another way for her to pull one over on him while they’re trapped in this blazing wildfire burning around them, between them. But instead, surprisingly, Nesta readjusts her stance, shifting her foot so it faces forward.

“Thanks,” Nesta mutters, raising her sword again to work through the same sequence. “Did you need something else then?”

“Just trying to help, sweetheart.”

“And yet, I don’t recall ever asking for it.”

“Cassian!”

Cassian turns at the call of his name, finding Baz just outside the training rings. For once, there’s no smile on his third’s face, his brown eyes missing their usual, playful spark. It has cold dread flooding through Cassian’s limbs, crystalizing between his ribs until the weight twists and presses in. He breathes through the churning in his gut, but his muscles feel tense, his lips pressed into a grim line by the time Baz reaches him.

“What’s happened?” Cassian demands, skipping right past pleasantries.

“Alistair and Cormac have returned,” Baz explains.

Cassian sighs softly, squinting back toward the village and the rows of cabins, his mind reeling over this news. There’s no denying the relief that floods through him, the way it soothes the fear that always sparks within him every time they send out scouts. But what did they see? What information are they bringing back? It’s a stark reminder of the storm clouds looming just over the horizon, of the thunder shaking the ground beneath Cassian’s feet, beneath the pack’s security.

Nodding to himself, Cassian turns his attention back to Baz. “Gather the elders. We’ll meet immediately.”

“Already on it.”

Baz turns on his heels, jogging away, and Cassian watches him go before making his way toward the meeting hall with another sigh. Anxiety prickles across his skin at what they’ll learn, what will be discussed. He makes it a few steps outside of the training rings when the sound of a second set of footsteps reaches his ears, Cassian stopping short. He turns to find Nesta walking beside him, her brows furrowing at their sudden halt.

“What are you doing?” Cassian asks, gesturing back toward the training rings. “Go back to training with Cresseida.”

“It sounds like there’s important news, clearly an important meeting,” Nesta offers, peering up at him as if it’s obvious.

“And?”

“And? And I’m joining you.”

Cassian scoffs, crossing his arms. “You’re not attending this meeting.”

“What,” Nesta snaps dryly, her tone low and incredulous. “Why not?”

“I’m not having a witch in the room when we discuss pack business.”

Cassian is certain that the glare Nesta settles him with would cut down a lesser man where he stands. The blue of her eyes is pure ice, a fire burning in them and promising to swallow him whole in a blazing storm. She steps closer to him, her chest brushing against his own with every annoyed, heaving breath, lip pulled back in a sneer.

“I am your wife,” Nesta reminds him, words cold and clipped.

Cassian leans down until they’re eye to eye, offering a glare of his own. “I didn’t choose you.”

This close together, Cassian catches it, the way her mask slips for just a moment. He almost thinks he imagined it, that flash of emotion in her eyes, before the fury returns. He doesn't dare look down, look away from her gaze, but he can feel the sparks of silver flames prickling across his skin where their hands hang a hairsbreadth apart. He resets his stance, shifting his feet and preparing for the impact of her magic.

“You’re a godsdamned bastard,” Nesta seethes.

She doesn’t say anything else, surprisingly keeping a leash on her magic and her rage. Instead, she turns on her heel, stalking back toward Cresseida on the other side of the training rings. Cresseida meets Cassian’s gaze briefly, shaking her head, before holding out the wooden sword for Nesta to take again. But Cassian doesn’t have time for disappointment or other’s opinions on what he should or shouldn’t do.

On how he should or shouldn’t run his pack.

He winds his way through the village until he reaches the meeting hall. Baz and Emerie are already standing outside, and he offers them both a nod in greeting.

“Are all the elders gathered?”

“Everyone’s gathered and ready, yeah,” Baz explains, glancing behind him to the open doorway.

“Where's Nesta?” Emerie asks, looking pointedly over Cassian’s shoulder as though she expects the witch to appear.

“Hell if I know,” Cassian shrugs, moving to step forward into the meeting hall but Emerie is quick to step directly into his path, blocking him. He rolls his eyes. “Last I left her, she was at the training rings with Cresseida.”

“Should we wait for her before we start, then? One of us can go grab her,” Baz offers.

Cassian lets out a derisive snort. “Why would we wait for her? She’s not attending a pack meeting.”

The cold look Emerie settles him with rivals Nesta’s. “She’s your wife.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Did everyone forget that I didn’t choose her?”

“Did you forget that she didn’t choose this either?” Emerie demands, smacking him hard in the chest. “You were there. Her mother practically sold her and her sisters like cattle. I thought I already told your dumbass you need to respect her.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Cassian growls, side stepping around Emerie and into the meeting hall. “Let’s go.”

“Fucking idiot…”

~ * * * ~

The sigh that tumbles past Cassian’s lips is heavy, icy claws sinking into his lungs and drawing blood with the exhale. He digs his fingers through his hair, the strands already starting to knot with how many times he’s repeated the gesture. The map continues to lay splayed out across the wood of the table in front of him, and all he can do is stare at it, blink at it.

“We’ll have to inform the vamps and the Vanserras,” Baz’s voice draws Cassian from his quickly spiraling thoughts. “We can’t keep this information to ourselves.”

“A temple,” Emerie whispers, almost to herself. “What kind of evil do you have to be to attack and destroy a temple?”

“If Cormac is right, they got whatever they were looking for,” Cassian comments, leaning forward over the map and sliding his finger along the parchment, along the ink of the lines, the trees and the mountains. “Hybern’s even more dangerous now, and we need to be ready. We need to up our defenses along the western lines, make sure our warning system gives us as much time as possible.”

“You really think Hybern would try something? Attack the pack directly?” Baz asks, a hollowness taking over his usual sunny expression.

“Mother knows what Hybern is thinking or planning,” Cassian says, pushing back up to his feet. “But I’m not willing to risk it. Not willing to risk our pack.”

Emerie nods in agreement, the weight of what Cormac and Alistair described finding at the temple clearly still pressing on her even as she defiantly holds her chin up high. “I’ll make sure the new orders are delivered and implemented.”

“Tomorrow,” Cassian offers, giving Emerie’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “We’ll worry about implementing everything tomorrow. I think we all could use a night off after that.”

“And maybe a drink,” Baz mutters, the barest hint of a smile starting to return.

Cassian chuckles softly, unable to deny the idea sounds appealing. He has a bottle of whiskey back at his cabin that’s smooth and aged, and it might just be calling his name. “And maybe that too.”

Cassian rolls up the map and returns it the rightful place, following his second and third out the door the elders vacated what feels like hours ago. True to his teasing words, Baz heads for the pack’s favorite watering hole, Emerie vanishing toward her cabin to find her wife. It leaves Cassian to make the trek back to his own cabin alone.

The meeting lasted for hours, darkness having now blanketed across the village. The clouds shimmer and shift across the face of the moon, the silver light rippling like waves across the grass where it bleeds through, casting shadows over the trees and cabins. He just hopes it means that Nesta may have already retired for the night. The last thing he wants after that meeting is to rehash an argument with her.

He’s already dreaming of a tall glass of whiskey, of settling before the fire and relaxing at least for one night, as he makes his way up the steps to his cabin. He reaches forward for the handle of the front door, but a shock jolts through his fingertips, skittering up his arm and through his entire body. His eyebrows pinch, and he shakes out the pins and needles before trying again, only to earn the same reaction, his every muscle tensing in response.

“What the fuck…”

Cassian raises his hand, carefully, slowly, pressing his palm forward. The magic glimmers around his touch, spreading outward in silver swirls that Cassian suspects must be some sort of runes. They stretch all the way up and around the cabin like a shield.

A ward.

She’s put a ward around the cabin, locking him out.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Nesta?” Cassian shouts, loud enough she can hear him from wherever she is inside. “Let me in!”

Only silence answers Cassian, mocks him.

“Nesta, I know you can hear me! This isn’t fucking funny.”

Cassian growls in frustration when there’s still no response. He slams a fist against the ward, but the magic seems to give back whatever impact thrown at it, silver flaring around him and the force sending him stumbling back a few steps. He scrubs a hand through his hair and down his face, sending a silent prayer up to the Mother. He doesn’t know how long his stubborn witch of a wife intends to let him stew, but it’s clear that it’s going to be a long night.

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta tugs on the strands of her hair, shifting them until they sit how she wants. She holds them steady in place, plucking the pin from between her teeth and sliding it between the strands. Examining her work in the mirror, she hums quietly in approval, finally stepping back and toward the door. She winds her way through the cabin and to the front door, but her steps stop short when she pulls it open.

Cassian is curled up on his side, his back to the door. One arm is tucked up beneath his head, cheek pillowed on his bicep, and his hair is a tangled mess all around his face. For a moment, Nesta can do nothing but gape, nothing but blink in surprise at the sight of him here in front of the door. When she’d warded the cabin last night, she assumed that he’d find somewhere else to sleep, perhaps crash with Baz wherever the third’s cabin is.

Guilt begins to spool in Nesta’s gut, but then she remembers everything that happened yesterday. She remembers how Cassian seems set on locking her out of everything involving this pack. As if being isolated from her family through this farce of a marriage wasn’t bad enough, she’s stuck being just as isolated here thanks to her dear husband. As if Hybern and its king aren’t as much of a threat to her as they are to Cassian and the pack.

All of the anger and rage from yesterday blazes back through Nesta’s veins like a wildfire, and she raises her chin, stepping right over Cassian’s still sleeping form. Hopefully, now, the alpha has learned his lesson. He wants to play games and shut her out of everything, then he can enjoy sleeping outside in the cold and being shut out of his own cabin.

“Nesta.”

Nesta sighs, pausing just two steps down from the cabin. She turns around just in time to watch Cassian scramble up to his feet. Despite not being in his wolf form, his eyes still glow golden, furious in the way they spark and blaze. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, brows pinched down low as he glares at her.

Nesta raises a sardonic brow, not giving him an inch with her cool expression. “Sleep well? Who knew you took your inner wolf so seriously that you take to sleeping outside now.”

“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” Cassian growls, fists clenching at his sides.

“I don’t know. Did you think yesterday was a fucking joke?”

Cassian scoffs, but Nesta has heard enough. She spins on her heel and continues down the steps that lead away from the cabin and back toward the village.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Emerie is waiting for me with a carriage,” Nesta explains, not stopping or turning around. “I don’t want to be late for tea with my sisters.”

She can feel Cassian’s ire following her the whole way, burning a brand into her spine. The low sound of his growl practically echoes in her ears. It has a self-satisfied smirk tugging up Nesta’s lips the whole rest of the way, and if Emerie notices her expression, she thankfully doesn’t comment on it as Nesta climbs inside the carriage, as it carries them away from the village.

It feels almost strange to be back at the Archeron manor, to peer up at the dark red brick, the spires, and the climbing ivy through the carriage window. Almost subconsciously, her thumb slides across the slightly raised skin on the back of her left hand, tracing the scar back and forth. A deep breath in and out, and Nesta opens the carriage door, stepping out and into the misty morning light.

She walks up the front steps, the front door swinging open right before she reaches it. At least, the magic imbued within the wood and brick of the house still recognizes her. Nesta steps inside, instantly greeted by the familiar smells of fresh lavender, ginger, and basil, and follows the halls all the way to the sunroom at the back of the manor.

The round table in the room is already covered in a white, lace tablecloth, a steaming teapot placed at the center. Elinor sits primly in the seat directly across from the doorway back into the main house, hair neatly and harshly tugged back away from her face and chin raised high. As soon as Nesta steps inside, her mother’s cool eyes are pinning her in place.

“Mama,” Nesta greets quietly.

Feyre is already settled in the seat directly to Elinor’s right, so Nesta takes the seat across from their mother. She chances a glance toward her youngest sister, but Feyre has her eyes cast downward, staring intently at her plate. Nesta doesn’t miss the way Feyre chews on her bottom lip, the way she aimlessly pushes around her eggs, even as her grip on her fork is white knuckled.

Giving her hands something to do, Nesta reaches forward for the teapot, pouring herself a cup. Thankfully, just as she’s taking a sip, Elain steps inside the sunroom, brown eyes wide and almost nervous as they flit around the table. She’s quick to settle into the final seat beside Nesta, fingers twisting and fisting into the skirts of her dress.

“My girls,” Elinor begins, taking the time to look at all three of them. “Back together again. Have you all been well?”

Feyre’s eyes flash up at the question, but Nesta is quick to jump in. “I’m sure we’re all still adjusting, Mama.”

Elinor hums, Nesta’s fingers twitching and tensing in response to the disapproving sound. She has to shake the urge to trace that scar on the back of her hand again, that sound and what typically followed it still haunting and prickling in the back of Nesta’s mind.

“And what have we learned, hm?” Elinor continues, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “The rumors say that Rhysand’s numbers are beyond what we’ve been led to believe. Is it true? Are there more vampires than we know?”

“How would I know that, Mama?” Feyre sighs softly.

“You’re his wife now, are you not? And what about the wolves?” Elinor asks, her attention snapping to Nesta. “There’s long been stories of their training, of their strength.”

“I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary with the pack,” Nesta explains, trying to hold her mother’s gaze but dropping her eyes to the dark swirls of her tea.

“And how about the Vanserras? And their coven’s spellbook?”

“I… I haven’t seen any spellbook, Mama,” Elain murmurs, her voice quiet.

Elinor sighs, and Nesta tries to brace for whatever is coming. “I give you girls everything that you need, set you and this family up, and this is what you offer me?”

“Mama…” Nesta starts, prepared to place herself in front of her sisters and in the line of fire with their mother if need be.

“You all have to be better. You’re Archeron women for the Mother’s sake.”

“Are we? Since you married us off,” Feyre mutters under her breath, but not quiet enough that their mother doesn’t hear.

“You insolent child,” Elinor seethes, turning her ire on her youngest daughter. “I am making you all stronger, ensuring you can take your birthright. And you’re ungrateful?” She takes a calming breath, smoothing out the lines of her skirts. “I expect you all to be better than this moving forward. At least I see you haven’t allowed the vampire bite, nor the wolf mating bite. That’s good. Elain?”

Elain’s grip on her skirts is near white-knuckled beneath the table, pink beginning to spill through her cheeks. With each second of silence that stretches around them, Nesta frowns in confusion, trying to surreptitiously reach toward her sister in comfort without their mother noticing.

“Elain,” Elinor repeats, her voice clipped.

Another tense moment passes, but then Elain slowly lifts her hands, placing them palm up on the table. The pink line across her left palm is unmistakable, still slightly puckered and not fully healed. A bonding spell, a witch’s equivalent of tying two souls together through blood and magic.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Elain whispers, wincing when Elinor’s fingers curl around her wrist in a tight grip. “It was Eris. He insisted that Lucien and I do it.”

The response has Nesta even more confused. Elain has never been a particularly good liar, neither when they were girls and she was stealing cookies and sweets from the kitchen nor when they were teens and she was sneaking out to meet Graysen Nolan in town. And Nesta knows that Elain is lying now; although, she has no idea why.

“What were you thinking, Elain? This type of stupidity is beneath you.”

“Please, Mama. You’re hurting me.”

“Do you have any idea what this means? What you’ve done? You’re an Archeron, dammit, not some Vanserra’s tramp. Marriage or not, I will not have you tarnishing this family’s name.”

Elinor releases Elain’s wrist, crescent shaped indentations embedded in the skin from her nails. Elain clutches her hand back to her chest, cradling her wrist. Anger sparks and flares in Nesta’s chest in her sister’s defense. She glares across the table at their mother, but Elinor’s focus stays glued on Elain. The biting words sit heavy on the tip of Nesta’s tongue, poised and ready to fire without a second thought for the consequences, for what she knows it would mean to bring Elinor’s ire back her way.

As long as it’s off Elain and Feyre.

But before Nesta can say anything, Elinor pushes up to her feet. She looks down her nose at all three of her daughters, a cruel queen and her subjects. “Remember your place, remember what is expected of you as an Archeron, and do not fail me again.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta is quiet the entire carriage ride back to the pack’s village. She can feel Emerie’s curious gaze watching her from the seat across from her, but Nesta keeps her eyes firmly out the window. She watches the leaves and the trees shift and morph as they move past, her mother’s words, the whole morning, still playing over and over in her mind.

She’s an Archeron woman. A witch who comes from a long line of proud, powerful women. One of three sisters said to be blessed by the Mother herself. No matter that she’s a married woman now. No matter that she and Cassian may one day be amicable. No matter what the pack might one day mean to her. An Archeron is what her mother expects her to be, and Nesta will not fail her.

She will not be a failure again.

“Are you alright?” Emerie finally dares to break the quiet to ask. “You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine,” Nesta dismisses curtly. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re the alpha’s wife. You might be surprised, but that actually means something to me.”

The words take Nesta by surprise, and she turns her attention to the second, blinking a few times before remembering herself. “Thanks.”

Emerie shrugs like it’s easy, like it doesn’t mean anything, but it does to Nesta. It makes her feel like she may be less alone in the pack after all. She’s about to ask Emerie if she likes to read, to see if they may share any interests, but the carriage pulls to a stop. Emerie is quick to hop out, holding the door open for Nesta to step down as well.

“I promised Cresseida I’d relieve her from shop duty as soon as I got back,” Emerie explains, waving off the carriage. “You’ll be alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Emerie’s gaze sweeps over Nesta, like she doesn’t quite believe the words, but she doesn’t comment or say anything else. With a nod of her head, she heads toward the market square. Left alone, Nesta takes a moment for herself. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, allowing the scent of the trees and the moss around her to fill her senses. The peace this deep into the forest licks at her wounds in a soothing way she doesn’t expect, has that magic within her settling like a beast returning home.

Home.

Is that what this place is now? Between her grandmother and her mother, the Archeron manor certainly never truly felt like a home. Nesta has never really felt like she had a home, not a true one,at least. When she was younger, she used to read stories of sweeping romances and believed that she could find one just like the women between those pages. Her mother always said they were nothing more than fairytale dreams, always chastised her when she had her nose in those books.

Maybe that was one thing Elinor was right about.

Sighing softly to herself, Nesta rolls her shoulders and starts along the winding path through the village, back toward the alpha cabin on the top of the hill. When she pushes through the front door, she’s surprised to find Cassian standing in the kitchen. He looks just as surprised to see her, but then his expression changes, morphs into rage with the way his lips pull back in a snarl, the way his hazel eyes flare and narrow.

Nesta had almost forgotten about Cassian, certainly forgotten about their previous argument and the ward she’d placed around the cabin last night. She’d been too caught up in her mother and her sisters, between the disaster that was tea this morning. But it’s clear that Cassian hasn’t, and it all comes crashing back to Nesta as she takes in the way he’s glaring at her.

It’s the perfect distraction.

“I see you got yourself back inside after all,” Nesta comments idly, turning her back on him and removing her shoes and her cloak.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“What’s there to talk about? I thought it was rather fitting. Perhaps, we should build you a dog house.”

Nesta turns back around, offering her best saccharine smile, knowing it’s exactly the thing to get under his skin and fuel the fire. To draw out the pull to her push until they’re burning together and everything else fades away with those flames. But Cassian merely tilts his head, watching her in that unnerving way of his as though he can see right through her. It has Nesta’s hackles raising.

“Do you want to play, Nes?” Cassian drawls, taking slow, measured steps closer to her.

“Play? There’s no playing. You’re insufferable.”

“Insufferable? That’s weak, even for you.”

Nesta scowls up at him, daring to close that final step between them until they’re toe to toe. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. Is that the worst you’ve got? I’ve been called much worse than that, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” Nesta asks, any other cutting words dying on her tongue.

“Offended on my behalf?” Cassian fires back, reaching a hand up between them to cradle her jaw, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip.

The teasing tone has the scowl returning in an instant, Nesta smacking his hand away. “Perhaps, I want to shake the person’s hand. Exchange ideas.”

“Ideas?” Cassian continues to tease, walking Nesta back until her back hits the wall.

“Yes. Ideas I could have shared in the pack meeting yesterday.”

Any teasing drops away completely from Cassian’s expression as he rolls his eyes. “Back to that, are we? It’s my pack, remember? Did you forget who the alpha is?”

“Did you forget I’m your wife? I should have been in that meeting.”

“Oh, you want to be my wife, now? How about you be a good little wife and get on your knees and suck my cock?”

The words are crude, all but snarled in her face, but that doesn’t seem to stop the way Nesta’s body responds. She still remembers that cock all too well. Remembers the way it had felt fucking into her. Remembers the way his knot had stretched her. Remembers the delicious ache between her thighs that remained for the entire next day.

But she’ll be damned if she lets Cassian know all that.

“Fuck you,” she snarls instead, shoving at his chest, but of course his large frame in unmoving.

“You’ve certainly forgotten how good a wolf’s sense of smell is,” Cassian tells her, leaning down over her with a cocksure smirk. “You think I can’t notice the sweet scent of your arousal? Do you want to suck my cock, sweetheart?”

“It’s clear you certainly want me to.”

Nesta shifts her hand, reaching down to grip Cassian’s cock through his pants. He hisses at the contact, but she can feel how he’s already half hard, can feel the way he twitches against her palm. It’s clear he’s getting off on their back and forth just as much as she is. She rubs her hand up and down, squeezing when she reaches the head of his cock.

Cassian continues to swell beneath her ministrations, and Nesta can’t help but lick her lips. How would the weight of him on her tongue feel? How would he taste? Just the thought has her clenching her thighs, desperate for friction, for relief, beneath the skirts of her dress. There’s a hunger yawning in the space between her ribs, clawing and gnawing at her chest, and she sees that same hunger echoes in Cassian’s own burning gaze, in his darkening hazel eyes.

“The no kissing rule still applies,” Nesta tells him, pulling her hand away so she can focus on the laces of her dress. “This is just sex.”

“Just sex,” Cassian agrees, reaching a hand back to fist in his shirt, tugging it up and off.

Nesta’s dress has barely hit the floor in a crumple of fabric before Cassian is pressing fully into her space. His hands find her thighs, fingers spread wide and digging into her skin, and he hauls her up off the ground with ease. He turns on his heel, only taking a few long strides before he deposits Nesta on the kitchen table, the wood pressing against her back.

Cassian takes his time roving his eyes over her, tracing down her throat and collarbones, lingering on her heaving chest and her peaked nipples, following down her stomach and between her spread legs. He dares to reach his hand forward, shadowing that same path with two fingers. It’s a spark catching, goosebumps erupting across Nesta’s skin as she arches up against that touch.

“So pretty flushed like this,” Cassian comments idly, using those same two fingers to toy with the waistband of her undergarments. “Good enough to eat.”

Cassian gathers up his hair in his hands, tugging it away from his face and securing it with a leather band, before he slowly drops down to his knees. His fingers curl around Nesta’s ankles, calluses along his palms sliding up her calves, over her knees, up her thighs. He pries her legs further apart, leaning in until even through the fabric separating them still, Nesta can feel the ghost of his hot breath against her cunt, until he can lick a thick line over the dampness that’s already gathered there.

Cassian groans softly, giving her cunt another lick. “And oh so sweet too. Who knew just the thought of sucking my cock would have you dripping already?”

His hands slide up over her hips, and Nesta can feel the heat of them scorching her skin. She can feel the hint of claws too, teasing and drawing a shudder up her spine. Would he fuck her with those claws? What would that feel like?

The sound of tearing fabric is almost too loud, even over Nesta’s panting breaths. She snaps her attention down just in time to watch what remains of her undergarments fall away. That cocksure grin of his is out in full force, hazel eyes glinting from between her thighs. Normally, Nesta would want to wipe that smirk clean off his face, but right now, all she can think about is the sight of him on his knees before her, about the blissful release that sight promises.

“Cassian,” Nesta whines instead, trying to buck her hips up against his hold. “Please.”

“What a good girl,” Cassian praises, mouthing along Nesta’s inner thigh and drawing a soft whimper from her lips. “Now, keep those eyes on me and keep moaning my name.”

The first slide of Cassian’s tongue against her cunt has Nesta gasping, thighs squeezing instinctively around the alpha’s head. Cassian groans against her, his mouth moving to her clit and tracing slow, tortuous circles over it. Nesta tries to keep her gaze firmly on him, but it feels almost unfair. His wide shoulders bracketed between her thighs, the shorter strands of hair falling out of his updo and along his temples, and his eyes…

His eyes glow golden as though the wolf within him has decided to join as well. As though Nesta truly is the prey caught in the predator’s trap. But she’s not sure she’d rather be anywhere else.

Cassian groans again, and then he really starts to devour her. He fucks his tongue up into her, curling and flicking it along her walls. Nesta feels like she’s burning, every nerve ending blazing and focused on where Cassian’s mouth works her higher and higher. Her feet scrabble desperately for some sort of purchase, against Cassian’s shoulders, against the edge of the table.

“Cass… Cassian… fuck.”

Nesta knows that she’s babbling, knows he’s turned her into a puddle of moans and canting hips, but she can’t find it within herself to care, not with the way he plays her body so well. She slides a hand down to Cassian’s head, holding him right where he is, the other finding her own breast to pinch and tweak her nipple in time with the movements of Cassian’s tongue.

Cassian focuses his attention back on her clit, and that fire blazes hotter until it swallows Nesta whole. Her back arches up fully off the kitchen table, fingers curling tight enough in Cassian’s hair that her nails bite into his scalp. She moans loudly as her release carries her right over the edge, trailing off into a whimper when Cassian continues to lap at her still fluttering cunt until he’s had his fill.

When Cassian finally pulls back, Nesta is forced to release her grip on his hair, her hand falling back to the table with a soft knock. His lips and chin glisten, and he makes a big show of sliding his tongue around his mouth and gathering up the excess. Nesta watches from beneath hooded eyes, that heat in her blood still simmering.

She pulls herself up into a seated position, reaching for the laces of Cassian’s pants. She makes quick work of the knot, pushing the fabric down until it slips from his hips and falls to his feet. Just the sight of his cock bobbing free has her thighs clenching again, has her swallowing hard and licking her lips. She eyes the vein that runs along the underside, the already weeping head, remembering exactly it’ll feel when she sinks back onto it.

Her legs are shaky as she slips off the kitchen table, but she’s able to guide Cassian back until he’s falling into one of the kitchen chairs. She sinks down onto her knees between his spread legs, sliding her hands up over his knees and along his thighs. She drags her nails along the skin, through the coarse hair lining his strong thighs, before finally curling her fingers around his cock, squeezing the base.

“Now this is a sight I could get used to,” Cassian comments, his hips bucking up against her grip. “A good girl on her knees before her husband, ready to take his cock so well.”

Nesta wants to roll her eyes at the words, but there’s no stopping the way her body responds to the praise. She decides to focus on the task at hand, leaning in and licking at the arousal dribbling from Cassian’s cockhead. She moans softly at the salty taste blooming across her tongue, opening her mouth wider to swallow him down. She slides her tongue along the underside, relaxing her throat to take as much as she can and working what she can’t with her hand. The weight of him in her mouth is exactly as unparalleled as Nesta imagined, and she moans around his cock as she starts to bob her head.

Tears start to prickle Nesta’s eyes, but she doesn’t let it deter her, blinking and peering up at Cassian through her eyelashes. His gaze is already pinned on her, lips parted and expression nothing short of enraptured. His dirty mouth is silent now. Nesta almost wishes she could smirk around the way her mouth is stuffed full. She may be the one on her knees, but it’s the pack alpha rendered powerless.

It goes right to her head and right to her cunt.

She widens her stance and dips her free hand between her own thighs. Her fingers slip through the wetness, and she teases her clit briefly before sinking two fingers into her cunt. She tries to match the pace of her fingers with the movements of her mouth, curling her fingers every time she swirls her tongue over the head of Cassian’s cock.

“Gods, look at you,” Cassian’s voice draws her attention back to him. “Go on, sweetheart. Add a third finger. Get yourself nice and ready to take my knot.”

Nesta whines around Cassian’s cock, but she does as she’s told. She presses in a third finger, fucking her cunt hard and desperately. Heat coils low in her gut, her thighs beginning to tremble, and when she dares to press her thumb against her clit, Nesta has to finally pull back from Cassian’s cock. She drops her forehead to his thigh, letting out a high pitched cry as her walls clench around her own fingers, her release making a mess of her own hand.

But still she wants more.

She’s not sure how she manages it, but she pushes back up to her feet. She moves to straddle Cassian’s lap, to finally take what she wants, but she barely gets a single knee up onto the kitchen chair. Cassian’s hand snaps to her throat, fingers pressed hard against her thundering pulse. Her cunt echoes the squeeze of his fingers, clenching around nothing desperately.

“Nice try, Nes,” Cassian leers up at her, keeping his hold of her as he stands up. “But I’m still the one in control here.”

He tightens his grip around her throat briefly, Nesta’s breath catching with the squeeze, before releasing it entirely. He spins her around, her back pressed firmly to his front and her hips digging into the edge of the kitchen table. She can feel his cock still hard and waiting, and Cassian shifts his own hips so that it slips between her thighs, dragging teasingly through the mess of wetness there, along her clit.

Cassian presses his lips to her ear, hot breath skittering across her skin. “Beg for it.”

“Please. Fuck me, please.”

Cassian groans at her words, but still, he doesn’t give her what she wants. His hand slides down her stomach, down between her thighs. He sinks two fingers into her dripping cunt, spreading them and stretching her wide, but it’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough. It’s nothing compared to the real stretch she knows he can give her.

“Do you want my cock, Nes?”

“Yes,” Nesta moans, tilting her hips back to grind more firmly against his cock. “And your knot. Please.”

Cassian’s teeth snag on her earlobe. “Good girl.”

Cassian pulls his fingers free, but Nesta barely has time to whine at the loss before he’s replacing them with his cock. Already, just the stretch of him has stars popping in Nesta’s vision, her cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as though desperate to draw him deeper still, to keep him right there. She feels so incredibly full, her toes curling against the hardwood of the cabin floor.

“Two orgasms already and you’re still so tight around me,” Cassian sighs, pressing between Nesta’s shoulder blades until she’s bent in half over the table. His hands find her ass, fingers digging in against the flesh. “But Mother save me, look at the way you take me so well.”

Nesta whimpers as Cassian pulls his hips back, the slow drag of his cock, but then Cassian is snapping his hips back forward. Again and again he drives into her, setting a hard and fast pace. It’s everything that Nesta needs. Every thrust that has him pressing deeper still, every slap of his hips against her ass, has Nesta keening. She claws at the kitchen table, desperate just for something to hold onto.

As that heat starts to lick up her spine again, her body coiling tighter and tighter like a bow string, Nesta reaches a hand between her hips and the table edge, fingertips trying to catch on her clit despite the jostling. A growl sounds from behind her, fingers curling around her wrist. Cassian yanks her hand away, pressing it to the table and holding it firmly there.

“You’ll come on my knot or not at all.”

It’s a threat and a promise.

Her entire body feels wrung out, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She hopes that he doesn’t stop. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows she should feel embarrassed at this hunger that cloys in her gut, that flares through her chest, but she can’t find it within herself to care. She wants this. Wants him. Wants his knot.

Her throat feels hoarse with how much the male behind her has made her scream, but there’s no stopping the litany of moans that tumble past her lips. Especially when she starts to feel the swell of Cassian’s knot, feels it catching against the lips of her cunt with every forward thrust.

But he only seems to keep teasing her with it.

The next time that Cassian snaps his hips, Nesta presses her own back to meet him, forcing his knot to sink into her, to properly notch and lock them together.

“Fucking shit,” Cassian groans, dropping his head to her shoulder.

His hands grip Nesta’s hips hard enough to bruise, his cock twitching and flooding her core with warmth. The stretch of his knot, the feeling of being so completely and utterly full, is indescribable, and Nesta clenches down, milking his knot and his cock with a soft moan.

“Still want to be a good little wife, Nes?” Cassian asks, grasping her jaw and pulling her head back against his chest. “Then come all over your husband’s knot.”

His free hand slips down between her thighs, pressing hard against her clit. It’s all it takes for Nesta’s third release of the afternoon to tear through her. She all but screams Cassian’s name, her body trembling through the way his knot still presses against the walls of her cunt, the way she can still feel his cock twitching and filling her deep, the way he doesn’t relent with the rough circles he traces against her clit.

When Cassian releases his hold on her, Nesta is like a marionette with her strings cut, slumping down against the kitchen table with a soft whimper. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, tries to calm her thundering heart and come down from her high. With her cheek pressed to the table, breath puffing against the wood, Nesta allows her eyes to fall shut.

She and Cassian may never be the sort of husband and wife Nesta often dreamt of as a girl, will certainly never have the sort of love she read about in books, but at least they can have this.

—

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#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #When We Howl #my fic

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ikkosu · 2 months

Note

Earthspark bumblebee is currently rotting my brain from the inside out so could I ask for so fluffy fem shyer human and bumblebee who are crushing hard for each other but keep both of them keep prolonging confessing to the other the terrans realize what's going on and take it upon themselves try to get them to confess their feelings to each other

SUNSHINE

bumblebee x shy!fem!reader

a/n: tfe bee is so big brother energy 😭 he reminds a lot of what rid bee could be. I had a lot of fun writing this ! totally didn't rewatch all the bee scenes to get his character right,,,,,totally didn't. (I don’t write fluff often so i treid my best I swear)

[i]

"When are you gonna suck it up like a man and confess?"

Twitch startled you from above as the whirs of her fan hummed gently, hovering around you in her alt-mode.

"C'mon! What're you gonna say, huh? Turn away from the problem like you always do?"

Gloved hands, scathed with dirt, halted in the midst of pulling out a persistent weed. You feel your temple burn, a nervous laugh bubbled from your throat as your fingers plunged into the soil once more, pawing around to find the root of the problem.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!".

"I don't know what you mean."

When you did find the source, delicately you curled your fingers into the crevices, balling the soil then, with a huff, yanked the roots out. You're careful not to damage the nearby flowers.

When confronted at the baselines of your problems, you often churn into a sputtering mess. Sometimes, you have to clarify that no, you’re not angry, or no you’re not daunting — that’s your facial expressions constricting. Because if you don't. You're going to cry. And you're going to cry lots over matters daintier than an atom.

"Wuss."

"Twitch. Really you are trying." You sigh when the drone nudged your back.

A quick zip-zap of metallic whirs and she’s in her usual form, yellow eyes ablaze, arms crossed, leaning over with a scowl. Her hips jutted out, sassed-esque — a pose Dorothy used often when she's mad.

"I appreciate your concern but—"

“Dont even try to push it away. I'm not stupid." She prods, getting up to your face. Really, this adorable thing is half a step away from making you ostrich-dunk your head into the soil. "Oh, let me guess : tongue, tied? Busy thinking about a certain someone? Someone, or a bot so yellow like the sun, it’s blinding your eyes?”

You don’t even know where to begin. So, you look into the soil really hard, like you’re trying to find something worth focusing on. Oh, look. A worm. Bingo.

"I'm going to eat that worm if you're not going to look at me."

"Twitch—" You began.

Then, she’s shoved away.

"Sorry, you see. Wh-what she's saying is that, well, you know—" Thrash nudged his head into view, twiddling his thumbs as a demure, placating smile eased on his soft face. "...it's high time you...tell 'im how you feel?"

This time you want to plunge your head into the soil. It’s not a want, it’s a need. The scent of earth was purging strong, beckoning you with it's heed, as you, yet again, choke back another sound. You laugh, nervous. God, this earthworm! So, interesting. Haha. So...so...er. Hm.

"Pshh. How I feel? I feel fine."

"I mean...about your, uh, crush on bee."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Twitched groaned, rolling around the grass all the way from the stack of hays to the tip of your boots. Then, she repeated the motion, each rant about your supposed love life —also, none-existent, if you will— becoming more fervent. That is, until Thrash had plucked her up by the arm pits and she fell limp like a doll in his hold.

" You said you’d be nice about it."

"What’s there to be nice about?! They’re being so smushy mushy , oh darling so lovely, it's giving me the critters!” She growled, clawing the air

You stood up with an uncertain hunch in your shoulder. You’re still holding the clump of soil in your rubber gloves, back taut and jaws slacked. The earthworm was gone, buried in the soil somewhere. You hoped it had a a nice stay unsurfaced for once — and you really should keep twitch away from Wheeljack. She's even swearing, now. She swears!

“Come on, now Twitch. It isn’t so bad.” You say quietly, not trusting yourself to yell at the skies in full volume. Really, you’ll disentigrate.

“You don’t get to talk, wuss.”

“Twitch!’’

“What?”

“Mom said be nice. A person’s word is like a kni—“

"Yeah, well she's a liar!" You shrunk asher digit juts your way. "That's gotta breach the fifteenth rule, right? A whole machete stab?"

Thrash seemed surpise. "You actually remember the rules."

You're exasperated. "What rules? And, what on earth are you both talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me!"

"Really, I'm not." Oh my god, are you really having a verbal spar with a — with a child of all bots that's half your size?!

"Oh, yeah? Then why you're nervous, huh? If you're not nervous then you've got nothing to hide."

"I'm not nervous." You said, blinking profusely.

Twitch made a face. "You're gardening."

"The grass looked bad."

"You garden when you're nervous."

You feel your lungs gave out. Your inner you's are bouncing around in your skull, panicking and screaming in disbelief. Alarm signals, blaring inside. How did she know?!

"N..no? I garden when I'm....happy." You kick the ground sheepishly. Bad call. The soil tipped over a your hold, little dots of brown mingled with the grass. Oh, dear.

"Happy? Please. You're nervous because big 'ol bee didn't have the spark to confess to missy sweet spark with barely any roots to hold herself." Twitch huffs. She's getting to sassy for her own good — "And so are you, wuss."

"We're friends!" You said, though the term was lacking. "Normal friends. Buddy, even. Buddy friends...haha...."

Thrash stiffens.

Twitch deadpans.

Both at the same time uttered : "Really?"

[ii]

They're hiding in a bush. A bush of all places. No, not the tree, obscured by the leaves and a leverage with the branches. Or, whatever hiding place is deemed suitable for this operation. A bush. Can you believe that?

Fluffy Ears nestled herself on the grass, curious eyes skimming over the several Terrans peeking over the bush. Thrash brought it upon himself to hide in the barn because, as per his words, a good spy needs a good hiding place.

The only good thing about his 'prowling' tendencies is the fact he falls asleep during these so-called covert operations. Which is why he gets most of the ranks during training. What a scammer.

Jawbreaker was too large to hide behind a,ugh, bush so he was demoted to simply standing a few meters back, loitering by the fence.

Twitch feels something poking her rib plate. Can't the spot get any more cramped? "Nightshade, I swear to Primus—"

"Hush! There he is! The first move. Hashtag, commence operation : video!"

"That's not even—"

"On it!" Hashtag wrangled out the most, honest to Unicron, humongous camera in existence.

Silence veiled the three Terrans as they spot the yellow black approaching their resident gardener-who-normally-comes-at-the-weekends-and-bee-is-distraught-over-that-fact, tending the newly planted flowers by the hedge.

"So, I was wondering..." He's stretching on his toes, not exactly looking at you.

How could he? Everytime he so much as to catch a glimpse of your face, he feels like tripping over his own pedes and burrowing himself into the ground until comets rain, the world in flames — and god knows when would Primus let him out again.

"You need something, bee?" You swivel up, pawing your apron to get off the dirt from your gloves.

But he looks confused, optics lowered downwards, brows furrowed. You look as well, then up.

"Yellow, huh." He looks away, pointing to your torso.

You look down again then realized what he meant. Your face burns with a vengeance.

"My other apron broke." You try not to stammer but it's proven futile as an amused smile eased over his face. "A-alex decided to give me his, well, you know one of his precious merch which...is typically your...um face on it. If it makes you uncomfortable—"

"No! Gosh, no. You can wear it all you want. I'm just surprised, that's all. You never really... Besides, it's nice...." He looks down and kicks the grass a little, servos behind his back. "It...suits you well."

At the compliment you look up, hoping not to make eye contact, but he does as well and you're both held at a stalemate. His round almond optics droop. For a moment, his lips part, then it shuts. He looks down, avoiding your gaze.

Is he... flustered? At that thought, you fisted the apron, bunching it a little. You look away, hiding the way you smiled a little. " ...It's a pretty color. Yellow, I mean. Honeybee. I love bees."

He looks back up, blue optics flared, and into your eyes. His chassis did those little backward flips and, he swears to Primus, he'll simply disintegrate. You're a lovely color too.

Bee flinched the moment you turn to him at break neck speed, sputtering, eyes wide and face, all the more flustered.

"What?"

"What?" He said that out loud. He said it. Out. Loud. He held up his servos. "I-i meant it's a lovely color. As in, you know, you're a lovely color so like when you said yellow was a lovely color. I thought— What I mean by that is— Oh, forget it." He lets out a deep vent. "It's been a long day. Sorry."

"You're fine. It's fine, I mean." You said. When silence veils over you both (Twitch really wants to strangle you, right now) you speak up again, quietly. "You were going to ask something...?"

His door wings pike up in surprise, much to his chagrin.

"Oh, right. Forgot about that." He coughed and cleared his throat. " I was wondering If you were...you know..." Gosh, what's that word. "Freethisweekend?"

It was so quick and quiet, you didn't really grasp much of what he uttered. “I got free— what's the next—"

"This weekend." He said, then trailed off. "Free... this weekend."

"Oh..." You look to the ground, hands primly folded behind your back.

"To... ah,” Just ask her out. Just ask her out. Worse she can say is no and no. No is fine! If you don't ask, you'll never know. That's what Elita said, right? Right? He sags. She said a lot of things.

He decides to go in for the kill but the moment he met your eyes, your pretty eyes, your temple grew warm, like really warm. He feels his own face burning and he starts stumbling over his words. “Free to. To go. To, um, a, well, a...d—dah, dah, duh, die, no! A, ah, diversion! Yes! Right. Diversion."

A domino effect of forehead slapping commenced. Bee, you fool! Twitch was wrangled back by Hashtag from leaping over the bush.

"Diversion?" Your face furrowed.

"With the....Terrans!" He snapped his servos. " Right, the Terrans. You know, a new lesson I made. Figured you'd be there for support. It's all about the essence of....diversion."

You stand there, mouth opening then closing. "...Sure, I guess. What time?"

"Anytime you're free." He says it, almost breathlessly.

You blink. "I thought it was a scheduled lesson."

His door wings pike up again. He groaned internally. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, uh. Yeah. Right. Schedule….schedule…So, how's ten tommorow? I'll round up the kids by then."

"Sounds good."

"Good. Good. See you....later."

You wave, then turned around, rounding the corner of the house. The moment you did, your face crumbled and you hid your face into your palms, a whine seethed inside your throat. Bee, however, pressed his helm against his servo, sighing.

How did I messed that up so badly?

Meanwhile, in the bush.

"Cut the film, Hash." Twitch resigned.

"But he could push on!"

"I highly doubt that." Nightshade was already crawling away.

Jawbreaker clicked thought the comms. "I saw yellow leaving. Is everything alright?"

"Nothing. Is Thrash dead? Thought so. Saw his head peeking out from the barn. Someone get him, please."

And, while they're all about to regroup. Twitch just had the perfect idea. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

[v]

Night plunged the skies, freckled with stars reflecting off his windshield as he rolled underneath the veil of darkness.

"Bee quick! Come to the barn! A problem just came up!"

"Twitch?" He was about to scale another ramp when he halted midway, changing course immediately. "C'mon talk to me. What's the problem?"

"Just come! It's urgent!"

Seeds of inky doubts blotched into his mind. The little runt had a lot of tricks up her sleeves. Sure, she's a heavy hitter but also a decent liar. Last time she pulled off the same shtick he was pushed into a hole....filled to the brim with mud. He walked around the vicinity and stank like cow feces for days.

He really should stop letting twitch mingle with Wheeljack.

His wheels rolled up to a stop in front of the barn. The trees, inky black, loomed around the farm, towering above him. He felt a shudder up his spine. Leaves rustled. Crickets chirp. All was quiet. Too quiet.

"Twitch? Kids?" He slid the barn door aside, joints whirring with every step. Hay crunched under his pedes. " Ugh, not this again. Guys, seriously. If, if this, Primus who littered this place? If this is one of your jokes I swear to— huh?"

The basement door was open. A gaping hole, black and swarthy greeted his eyes. Who left that open? He took a step closer. "Guys? Are you in there? What's going on?"

Another step. Then another.

"Look, you can come out now. This isn't funny."

The hole grew bigger, bigger and— Footsteps pattered behind him. It was gentle but it drew alarm as Bumblebee whirled around. And, there she was. Twitch stood before him, a wide, chesire grin on her face. The moonlight illuminated her from behind, casting an ominous shadow that loomed In front of her figure.

"Adios!"

He sputtered in confusion and felt two pedes connecting with his chest and he's sent stumbling back down the steps of Nightshade's underground lab. His shout of surprise was quickly drowned out when Twitch pulled the door shut.

"There! That'll do it." She grinned, fists on her hips. “You got that hash?”

“All on tape. Even his face too! Did you see how he looked like?” Hash stepped out of her hiding place, literally behind the hay. The original culprit of hay litter-er. "They're gonna be there for hours! Trapped in each other's embrace! Oohhhh this is so rad. You've seen those rom-coms, right? It's going be so funny when they come back out.”

"With result." Nightshade chirped, coming up beside them. "It's been awhile something has transpired. A change of the usual routine. Oh, the bore of waiting so long. As a scientist myself. I admit — it can get a little bothersome. Let's only hope the heat from the generator can keep them warm."

Silence. Hashtag feels two optics on her.

"Generator, what generator?"

"....Hashtag." They begin slowly. Twitch looks mortified.. "....Please tell me you didn't cut off the generator when I said only to cut off the vault."

Confusion furrowed her brows. "How else would the door be locked if I didn't?"

Twitch groaned, head into her palms.

Nightshade stares at the closed vault. "....Oh, dear."

[vi]

"Unnfh!" His helm collided against the floor. Great. That’s just great. Mentor student. Mentor student! You don’t do this to your mentors! Annoyance bubbled inside his chassis and he grits his teeth. That is it. That is it. He’s had enough of her tomfoolery, her jokes, her tricks! Tommorow, he’s going to put her through hell and back—

“Bee?” He feels something warm touching his shoulder.

His helm swivels up, then his optics widens in surpise when your nose is inches away from his own. You make a flustered sound, suddenly falling back on your ass to put space between you both, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d uh be that close.” Was a soft mumble. “The fall looked like it hurt. You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m fine.” He breaths out, scrambling up to sit properly. He’s not sure what position, so he curled up his knee plates to his chassis. Your eyes are too…impossible to look at. “Think I broke a joint there.”

“You break joints too?”

He huffs a laugh, “You don’t think we do?” “I mean as in,” You gesture to his body, “ You know, cracking joints. Is it equivalent to me popping my knuckles? I saw you did it this morning when you stretch.” You trailed off, then shake your head. “Sorry, it’s a stupid question.”

“It’s fine. It’s not stupid. You’re not….stupid.” He clears his throat, “We also experience cramps. Tension in the joints when, well, like how a rusty hinged door won’t open up all the way.”

“Oh, that’s one way to put it.” You scoot a bit closer, pressing up against his leg. Bumblebee stiffens, servos moving over to stiffly cup your back to keep on you warm. The air was unusually chilly today. His quick scans showed the generator wasn’t working. Did the lights went out? His servos graze over your shoulders, massaging it a little, then behind your neck.

“And, and that one time. I don’t think you know him yet, he’s an old friend back during the war," He starts rambling for something to say anything to keep the conversation going, “His name’s Ratchet. Old bot forgot to oil up his pistons and couldn’t move for an entire day! Can you believe that? We had to carry him everywhere we went. Once, I was caught in the crossfire. Bullets were raining. Full on barrage. Nonstop. And he’s just like that, a plank of wood in my arms as I ran. You should’ve seen the look in his face!

“I can imagine he’s not happy,” A giggle bubbled in your throat. His audials perk up. “Yeah, I can tell. He’s a lot less crass in his manners when he dealt with me,” Bee leans a bit close, the servo skims down to your torso. “After all the bedgruding looks I’ve gotten from him — he’s got no choice but to give me special treatment of letting me off a few scolding.” “Oh? Why’s that,”

“I’m not exactly the prim and proper type.”

“My, my is bee the rebellious type?”

He lowers his voice into a playful whisper. “I had a phase, okay? Everyone does. Mine, though, it’s just worse than Arcee’s. She’s unhinged too but waaaay less moody. But don’t tell the kids that. I’m not going to have my name sullied, you hear?”

“Noted, officer. But I really can’t promised I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

He groans then a digit nudges your ribs. “No, really I’m serious. They’re going to kill me with that. I don’t want another incident to tarnish my reputation. Ive got Jawbreaker pestering me about how I made a mistake choosing my first alt-mode, I don’t need another slander. My feelings,” he says with a servo over his chassis, “they’re fragile.”

“Come on,” you leaned forward, cheek against his leg plate. Bee looks away, holding himself back from, well, squishing that…squishy part of your face. “It’s not so bad. The beetle looked adorable.”

“Beetle. Really? Beetle?” He looked almost offended you termed it that way.

“Isn’t that what it’s called?” He leans over and flicks your head. “I��d prefer it if you called it something else.”

You laugh. “I’ll bite, then. The Beatles?”

“No,” He said the words too fast, “Honey.”

You freeze. He freezes.

He did not just say that. Oh, no. He did not. He did not. When you look away that’s when he panicked. No! He’s not going to let the past few minutes go to waste! “As in yellow! Honey as in yellow!” He backpedaled, raising up his servos. “You know when I— when you said that, I was—" What’s up with him today? Then, he sags, muttering defeatedly. “It’s not what you think I meant to say.”

He’s blown it. Thrown it all down the drain. All his hard work now crumbled at the mere touch of his fingertips. You speak up after a moment, “What if…I wanted it to be what I think you meant?”

He looks at you again, surprise. He felt his spark clenching. This time you held firm eye contact despite your hands that were shaking. Think about gardening. Think about gardening. This is like that! Like he’s a flower. Gentle to hold. You steeled yourself and stood up on your toes, palms on his knee plates as you leaned in close.

“What did you meant?” You said softly.

His servos reached out to cup your cheek, curling his digits around the back of your hair. You leaned against his touch, closing your eyes. It was warm. His touch was warm. Pulsing and thrumming against your face.

“What I meant is that you’re someone important to me.” Then, he pulls you close, his optics flickering back and forth nervously. “So important I….think about you a lot. Like, a lot. I can’t….really stop. Even when I want to….its hard.”

Your face burns but you’re not letting that deter you. If god decided to kill you today, you’d steel on, wading through his comets. Think about the garden! You close the distance and your lips find the crook of his nose, pressing a gentle kiss to it, then his cheek. Your palms rested on his shoulder. Bee blinks, choking back a surpised sound at the touch but his servos manage to find your waist, curling his digits around the fabric of your shirt and pulls you close. He tilts his head so his lips would find yours.

“I think about you too.” You mumble against his lips.

#tf earthspark #tfe bumblebee #tfe bumblebee x reader #Tfe bee x reader #Bumblebee x reader #Twitch malto #hashtag malto #thrash malto #jawbreaker malto #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader

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