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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 11 months

Text

The Reading Chair

pairing: Remus x reader

tags / warnings: NSFW! (minors do not interact), smut, smut, and… more smut; established relationship, sex, fem!reader, slight praise kink

notes: written as a continuation of my previous fic, but either can be read alone; the only context is that in this au remus and reader opened a bookshop together

word count: 2.9k

“I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for coming in,” you say with a smile to the last customer of the day. You’re completely knackered as you turn the sign from “open” to “closed” behind her. It had been a hectic day, the kind you were grateful for in the grand scheme of it all but ready to wrap up by its end. You’re rubbing your tense neck as you make your way back over to the counter, where there remains work to be done. You’re having to read the words and numbers over and over again to make sense of them, your mind not in it at all, as you look guiltily over at your book sitting beckoningly next to your paperwork. A break won’t hurt, you think to yourself. I’ll still get all this done later. I just need a little energy first. You snatch up the book and head to your comfy armchair in the corner, delving into the next chapter that you’ve so eagerly been anticipating.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when you hear the door open and close. You see his messy brown hair over the shelves before you see him fully.

“Y/N?” Remus’s voice calls. “Hey, Rem,” you speak up. He walks past the counter, around the shelves to your reading nook and leans against them, observing you intently with an adoring grin on his face. You stick your tongue out at him.

Laughing, he tells you, “You know… When I think of you when we’re apart,” he starts moving slowly toward you. “Which is most of the time when we’re apart, if I’m honest…” A self-satisfied chuckle as he gets closer. “I usually picture you right here. As you are, right now.” He kneels in front of your chair and gives you a quick kiss in greeting. “So beautiful.” His eyes travel your face. “With your nose in a book.” He grabs your book from you and places it on the table. You go to complain, but he stops you with a knowing look, a cheeky grin, and continuing, “And your legs in this weird position you find so comfortable.” He’s chuckling as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. You uncross your legs and let them rest on either side of him; he keeps rubbing them. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Is that so?” you tease. “Mmhmm,” he confirms, kissing you again, lingering longer this time.

“I usually think of you naked,” you tell him, and he breaks into a barking laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

“Hm,” you nod, smiling warmly at him. He moves his hands up your sides and rubs your shoulders a bit. You let out a long, loud sigh you didn’t realize you had pent up. “Long day?” he asks knowingly. You just nod. It’s a little odd with his sitting in front of you, but he begins massaging your neck and shoulders. “I’m sorry I had to go during the rush,” he says sincerely. “Don’t be silly, Rem. That was for work, too. And it’s good — really good — business going up. And I can handle it.” “I know you can, lovely, but I don’t like seeing you so drained.” His hand caresses your face then rests in your hair and scratches at your scalp soothingly. It feels wonderful, sending tingles down your spine. You hum and lean into it. With your eyes closed, you miss the way his eyes travel down your torso. His grip in your hair gets a little bit tighter and his thumb traces the curve of your jaw. “I can help you relax, you know…” He sounds different. You open your eyes and see the way he’s looking at you.

“Oh?” Oh.

“Mmm.” His sound is guttural, and you’re not sure if it’s meant to mean “yes.” His hand on your hip tightens then slips under your shirt. “Here?” you ask, meaning to sound skeptical, sounding slightly desperate instead.

“I locked up behind me,” he tells you as he closes the distance between you and kisses you hard, his tongue immediately plunging into your mouth. You kiss him back ardently. His hand moves up your body, grazing your stomach then your chest, then resting on your neck. His hands now on either side of your face, he holds you firmly before gripping it and moving your head sideways, kissing down your jaw and neck slowly and sloppily. He stops at the sensitive spot below your ear and sucks. You moan and inadvertently rut forward. You feel his smile against your now moist skin. His teeth graze over your pulse point, and he keeps heading lower, pulling your shirt down out of his path as he kisses his way to your collar bone. He licks across it then just nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “I want to make you feel good,” he whispers hoarsely, and your whole body shivers in response.

“Remus,” you sigh. “I want to. Fuck, I want to. But maybe we should wait till we go home.” You’d messed around at the shop before, but never further than this. He shakes his head “no” where it rests flush with your body and kisses your neck as he says, “Uh-uh. Too long.” He leans back, pulls your shirt over your head, and connects your lips again urgently. You melt into him and kiss him back with matching passion. His hands are everywhere as you make out then they come to rest on your bare hips as he stops the kiss but stays close, his forehead resting on yours, his breathing heavy.��

Staring into your eyes, the hint of a smile across his swollen lips, he moves his fingers painstakingly slowly up your back. You’re slightly sweaty and extremely turned on, and you shiver again at his touch. He bites his lower lip as he unfastens your bra. You feel the weight of the loss of the support, and it feels nice. His hands come up to the straps and they pull them down equally slowly. The slightest motion would make the cups fall forward now, but you stay still, staring at him from under lidded eyes and long lashes. His hands come up to where your chest becomes your breasts, and his fingers caress down with a light touch until he reaches the tops of your bra cups. He continues the motion seamlessly, dragging the fabric down until it drops into you lap. His hands still floating above your breasts, featherlight touches electric, he brings his thumbs to your quickly hardening nipples and runs them across once lightly then again roughly. You whimper in response, and he tweaks your nipples between his fingers, abandoning the teasing, pushing and tugging harshly. Your whimpers grow louder, and he swallows them with a rough kiss before quickly moving his head down and wrapping his lips around your hard nipple. Moaning as he sucks on your tit, he kneads the other, and you hold his head to you with a firm grip in his hair. He runs his tongue around and around the bud then gives it a long wet lick before sucking it into his mouth again and humming around you. You’re loud now as the pleasure shoots through you, and as he switches from one breast to the other, planting a kiss in between them along the way, he gruffly tells you, “Fuck, I love your noises,” and after sucking your other nipple harshly adds, “and your tits. Fucking hell your tits.” Your chuckle mutates into a screamy moan as he bites carefully down on your aching bud, his tongue playing with it between his teeth. He bites and licks, kisses and sucks, and when he’s through playing with you, he kneads your chest roughly with both hands as his mouth kisses yours forcefully. You squirm in the seat as you push your tongue into his mouth and your chest into his hands.

Both of your breathing is coming loud and laboured as he pulls back and stares at you for a moment. With his panting mouth open, he smiles brightly at you, brings his forehead back against yours, and moves his hands to the button of your trousers.

The idea of protesting flitters across your mind, but unable to find a good enough reason not to give in, a fraction of a second later, your hips are in the air to aid in his removal of your trousers. You’re sitting there in only your knickers, wet and panting, and he pulls further away than he has since he came down to you.

Looking you over with almost black eyes, he chuckles and says, “Sorry, love, but I have to commit this to memory. You’re so fucking hot, I think I’ll get off on this for the rest of my life.” You laugh lightly and ask, “Still going to think of me reading when we’re apart?” You stick your chest out and open your legs wider. His eyes rolling to the back of his head, he groans animalistically and instinctively grabs the bulge in his trousers at the sight.

“Sure I will, lovely. Just naked too.” And with that, he delves back into you, starting at your mouth and worshipping his way down your neck, your chest, your stomach, till his face was even with your cunt. He nuzzles it playfully, and you whine, your hand coming to his hair and pushing him into you as you rut up, making him chuckle darkly.

“Don’t worry baby,” he teases. “I’ll take care of you.” His tongue, strong and flat against you, licks over your panties from your opening to your pubic bone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wet before,” he says, high on it. You whimper and rut again.

He sneaks a finger into your underwear where it’s soaked at your entrance. He separates the fabric that clings to your skin with your wetness and caresses up and down your folds, examining your cunt with the utmost scrutiny as he does. You’d think you’d feel shy at this, but the look in his eyes and the feeling in your core set you on fire, and you fucking love it. You open your legs as wide as you can, and with an eyebrow quirked, he looks up at you and smiles. “Good girl,” he tells you for the first time ever, and you mewl loudly and melt into the chair. He’s surprised at the intensity of your reaction and tries it again. “You like being my good girl, Y/N? my best fucking girl?” You nod vehemently and your grip on the armchair threatens to damage it. “Fuck,” he laughs. “Then I’d better make my favourite girl feel good then, huh?”

He pulls your panties to the side and licks up your folds several times, lapping the dripping arousal. He detaches his mouth from your lower lips, and you whine, but he’s only swiftly ripping your knickers off before latching on again, moaning into you. He sticks his tongue in your hole, and you half gasp half scream in response. He continues fucking into you with more and more force, his nose sending godly pleasure through your clit with each thrust and shake of his face.

“Remus, Remus, Remus,” you pray, your thighs shaking. He hums into your hole then starts sucking on your labia till he reaches your clit and sucks there. You cum all over his face. He hums and sucks and vibrates as you scream. When your shakes become shivers, he pulls off, licks your cunt from bottom to top, plants a kiss on your clit, then brings his face back to yours. It’s shining with wetness like never before.

“You’ve never cum like that,” he says amazed. “You’ve never eaten me like that,” you retort. He’s biting his soaked, swollen bottom lip and beaming. He runs his tongue slowly around his lips, lightly humming at the taste of you. You whimper at the sight, and he chuckles. “I like you all whimpery like this,” he teases. You feel your cheeks warm and move your hands to your face, but before they even reach it, Remus grabs your wrists and pins them back down against the arms of the sofa chair. “Uh-uh, lovely. No hiding. You’re too pretty, and I’m too needy. I need to see you.” He stares into your face then looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your still dripping cunt, your heaving tits, your blissed out face. “Holy fuck, you’re my goddess.”

You smile, equal parts shy and cheeky, and you confess to him, “I want to suck you off now,” with a boldness you hardly ever have in bed.

His eyes roll to the back of his head again, his knees weaken, and he pleads, “Please.”

You push him off of you and maneuver him into the chair. He’s yanking his shirt off while you pull his trousers down. When you’re both fully naked, without ado, you immediately wrap your lips around his rock-hard cock and start bobbing your head up and down. He whimper-yells in a way he never has before, and the sound propels you faster, deeper. Remus grunts rhythmically as you swallow him down, both hands in your hair, holding on for dear life, the occasional rough tug sending pleasure rippling down to your cunt. Your hands grip his thighs, vice-like despite the slipperiness of his now sweaty body. He lets out repeated “baby”s and “fuck”s and “please”s and “yes”s with increasing desperation, punctuating each sharp fast thrust of his hips.

You feel his thighs give a particularly violent shake, and knowing what that means, you pull off of him. The look on his face is of devastation, but his head goes back in excitement when he sees what you have in mind. You’re climbing onto him. He scoots down the armchair to give you some room to straddle him and brings his hands to your hips to help you in place and give some much needed stability.

Gripping the back of the chair, your other hand grabs his throbbing cock and guides it to your entrance. Remus is staring at where you’re about to be connected like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s seen in his whole life. To him, it is. You feel him enter you, and you clench in complete pleasure. He hisses sharply at the sensation of penetration and lets out a continuous “ahh” as you sink further and further down, your grip on his shoulder bruising. When he bottoms out, you clench and give a little bounce, and you smile at his desperate reaction. He’s nodding vigorously, biting his bottom lip, staring at your tits, gripping your hips with the full force of his strong hands. One of them goes up to clench your breast as you start bouncing on him, slow and hard for several thrusts before picking up the pace when you find a stable position. It feels incredible. The control you have over the drag of his cock against your walls drives you crazy both physically and psychologically. You bring your hips up and down repeatedly until you’re a whimpering, shaking mess above him.

Completely out of breath, he asks, “Can I?” You know what he means and nod, holding on tighter as he then starts thrusting feverishly up into you, fucking you in full force from below. It’s knocking you up and down vigorously, so you bend over more to rest your forearms on the back of the armchair. With this change in position, your tits are now smacking against each other with each thrust — right in front of Remus’s face. He goes feral for it, and starts sucking on one of them, his hands not leaving their grip on you but moving down to squeeze your arse as he pushes into you over and over.

From between your tits you hear — and feel — him give a distinctive yelp, and you rub aggressively onto him with every ounce of energy you have left, giving your clit the friction it needs to push you over the edge right along with him.

“Fuck!” he yells as your walls clench impossibly tighter and milk him of the cum that’s rushing out of him. You yelp at the sensation, and the strangled sound continues through the end of both your orgasms.

Your body gives, but Remus hums contentedly at the weight of you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you with a chuckle. You lay like this for several moments, his hand running up and down your back, the slipperiness becoming stickiness as the chilly air licks at your still wet bodies. You shiver at it, but you’re so spent and so happy, you don’t struggle off of him yet. His softening cock still buried inside of you, Remus brings your face to his to give you a gentle kiss and adoring grin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to relax in this chair again,” you whisper in a giggle. “I’ll get flustered just looking at it.” His laugh is warm and full, and he gives you a squeeze.

You kiss him and linger, and he says, “You know, with all the stress and everything…” a kiss, “I think it’d be good for us to make this our closing time routine.”

The sound of your laughter is muffled by his next kiss.

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin smut #remus x you #remus smut #remus x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders smut

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vibingandsimping · 8 months

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More random intimate positions/scenarios! Pt.2

Morally grey/villain characters this time!

Forewarnings: Dark content… including things like ownership, stalking, gore + obsession. Some pure fluff though :)

(I apologize for this being considerably longer compared to the others. I have been playing some more plus researching the lore. I feel more confident in my understanding of the characters and my writing.)

Gortash had his fingers wrapped around your chin as he beckoned you to look at him. You’re sat in his lap with your hands rested atop his shoulders. His expression is content with how closely pressed you are to his body. He could savor your warmth and read you so intimately. His brown eyes meet yours with a certain warmth laced in all the unwavering dominance. His lips quirk into a smirk as he watches your poorly built facade begin to crumble. His spare hand runs along the small of your back slowly… beckoningly. He'd be the hero of Baldurs Gate soon. He'd have all the power he dreamt of as a boy. Don't you wish to share that with him? His chest purrs when you keen into his touch. Good. He knew you could be a pretty thing for him. Such a formidable foe and he’d have you right by his side.

Minthara had her arms wrapped around your frame protectively. No matter how large or small you were in comparison. She was determined to hold you and plant some sort of reassurance into you. The way she regarded you was not that of any other. No, you were special to her and the woman realized it may not be so clear. She may be a cruel and a standard "drow", but beyond that there was an affection for you within her heart. She plants a kiss against the back of your shoulder-blades and it draws a shudder. Her muscles tighten around you as she presses her face into your shoulder, hot breath washing the junction of your neck and the flesh of your shoulder. You resist a second shudder. Unbeknownst to you, she’d follow you even if it was fruitless. Nothing was shaking her now that she was wrapped around you.

Orin's blade travels down your chest. It was gentle yet sharp... she wasn't particularly aiming to harm you but the thin streak of blood was enticing. The wound was so shallow it barely bubbled- just enough to alert her she broke the skin. Everything about the way she gazed at you was unhinged. You knew if she had pupils they'd be dilated. She draws her face downwards and laps at the tender flesh while you draw a shaky inhale. The whispers of praise and wishes for more barely reached your ears beyond the thrum of your heart. The slimy feel of her tongue worming it’s way up to your collarbones hitch your breath and you watch carefully. Each movement breeds more anticipation- she was soaking in your torment. She was wicked, truly, she devoted herself to you. You’d never understand her… but did you have to?

Ketheric’s hand laced with yours as you walked to his side. He was laid on his throne with open thighs as he acknowledged your presence. The man was aged and once a father. Well, technically still but Isobel regarded him with disowning. He long burned that bridge from his desperation and despair. You entered his life and turned things around. Everyone in Moonrise had never seen him so soft since he lost his daughter and wife. You took a seat on one of his thighs as he drew your hand to his face. His lips planted a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and then along your wrist. His beard tickled and caused you laugh, struggling against his hold as he stubbornly refused to let you go. When he finally did his lips were quirked upwards and there was a twinkling in his eye. He never thought he’d take a lover again… so he was glad when you broke down his walls. He’d once curse you for being persistent but now he’d praise you for it.

Raphael tugs on the invisible leash that was wrapped around your neck. You jerk forward on the bed as you kneeled with palms balancing you on the lush fabric. His wings were on grand display as his typically slicked hair tussled ever so slightly. Expression dark and expectant as you slowly crawled toward him. His brows furrowed as he tutted impatiently, a leg swinging out to hook around your thigh and jerk it underneath you. You collapsed as he drew you towards him with little patience. You now sprawled across his lower abdomen and crotch as his chest rumbles in amusement. Your skin burned with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. The hold he had on you, literally and figuratively, elicited a deep part of your brain. One that wished so carnally to be claimed… to be owned. Raphael would see to that, he promised, with one hand stroking your hair. You were such a sweet thing… and if you weren’t so persistent he’d lock you up for himself.

Kar’niss thought of you as a blessing. Truly, a drider like him didn’t deserve such an angel. He was supposed to be punished for all eternity for his shortcomings. He failed once and will never see to being a normal drow again. That’s why it didn’t make sense for him to be rewarded- but who is he to look at a gift with ungratefulness? He always holds you so tenderly… his body shockingly cold. He’s restless today, you note, as his eight legs skitter and his hands curl at you. There’s a flittering look in his face. A hunger he tried to conceal. When you question, he answers truthfully, drider need to feed on blood to survive. Every four days or he’d succumb to weakness and eventually die an empty husk. You offer yourself and he checks you for any hesitancy before diving in. He pierces the flesh with his sharp nails before indulging in the crimson that flowed. Between suckles and licks, he praises you for your generosity. Endless ‘thank you’s’ flow as much as your blood. He’s sure he’d never fallen deeper in love… or was it infatuation?

Haarlep knew their affection for you was essentially forbidden. Raphael handed you as a toy to them. Nothing more and nothing less- they should regard you only for his entertainment. They somehow found themselves wanting to indulge in your mind rather than your flesh after some time. It was your softness that first stunned them and foiled their pure-desire. Raphael never touched themself with such… they could barely find the word. Gentleness? Regard? They’d lay with you after your shared bliss and inch their nails down the side of your hip as you detailed your life. With a hand propping their head; they seemed enchanted. Mesmerized by how simple yet complex of a creature you were to them. Haarlep was a succubus and spent their life serving that purpose. They almost felt jealous of the freedom you held in life. They couldn’t help but find themselves fantasizing a life where you two lived in better circumstances. It was all a fantasy, though, they knew it with a bittersweetness.

Durge had always watched you from afar. Stalking, following and admiring. You caught their gaze amongst the crowd as they deliberately chose their next victim. You would’ve been easy. You didn’t hold yourself with a particular air in the ranks of Baldur’s Gate. Another citizen lost to the crazed killings of a maniac. It wasn’t until you’d noticed you had a secret admirer did your hackles raise. You could feel a pair of eyes on you at the most inopportune times. Then, came the letters at your doorstep detailing how they defied their nature. You could’ve been another hung corpse but instead they wished to wrap their mind around your heart and their lips amongst your neck. A shiver ran through you… a mix of disgust and a strange intrigue? Surely it was the way the letters were so detailed and deranged. You would’ve ignored it all until the stalking emboldened. You saw their figure in the window at night and through the alleyways. It was only a matter of time before they struck and claimed you as theirs. You’d simply have to keep an eye over your shoulder and hold a dagger close. If you could even strike them, that was.

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Text

Sunroom

(Captain John Price x F!Reader)

Word Count: 1.5k Rating: Explicit (18+) Tags: PiV sex, Fluff, Tooth rotting fluff, Domesticity, Soft Price, Lazy Sunday mornings, Wearing each other's clothes, Cockwarming, Sleepy sex, Cuddling, Established relationship, Lazy makeout sessions. Warnings: None A/N: A quick and fluffy smut oneshot inspired by the utterly lovely @guyfieriii and her Professor Price series which I adore.

Kisses along the underside of your jaw.

You feel the scrape of his beard graze against your skin, press against the soft, tender flesh of your throat as he presses a lingering, achingly sweet kiss there. You press into his mouth with a sleepy hum, chasing the taste of honey masked by yorkshire tea as he pulls away. It leaves you blinking drowsily in his absence, lips parting and eyes blinking against the brightness.

The world feels like it’s melting around you, hazy and aching, the warmth of the sunroom casting pale against your skin with the late morning radiance that spills through the windows. It blurs at the edges of your consciousness, sanguine and sincere as you drink it down like ambrosia, imbuing it into your veins like a kiss from the god Apollo. Drowsiness pulls at you, a gentle but insistent gravity that settles across your pliant limbs.

John emanates warmth from behind you, your spine tucked into the broad planes of his chest. Your head lolls in the junction between his neck and shoulder, and when you twist your head you drown in the scent of him- cigar smoke, pine, musk. You feel the warm breath of him when he smiles, absorbed in his book. One hand keeps it open, thumb pressed sternly between the pages, while his other palm rests against the top of your bare thigh that peeks from under his shirt dressed lazily across your form.

You found him like this when you came downstairs, seeking him when you found him absent from your bed. Shirtless, dressed in nothing but sweatpants, bifocals resting on the bridge of his nose, his eyes had risen to greet you as you hovered in the doorway. Hesitant, feigning shyness.

“Look at you.” He murmured, setting his book down as he appreciated your figure dressed in nothing but one of his crinkled, white button downs. “Is that my shirt, darling?”

“Smells like you.” You replied, voice clogged with sleep as you yawned, rubbed at your eyes. “Come back to bed.”

“How about you come here instead.” He offered, widening his legs and tapping at his thigh beckoningly. You followed the motion with your eyes, taking a moment to graze appreciatively over the length of him visible through the cotton of his bottoms. Yet you obliged, crawled into his lap so he curled over you from behind, pressed a delicate greeting into your cheek.

You melted into the touch, breathy and soft, docile in his embrace, smiling at the hum echoed against your skin.

“You smell lovely.” He whispered against your skin. “Smell like my bed.”

“Where we should be right now.” You returned softly, a hand coming up to graze against his cheek. He caught it, pressed a kiss there too for good measure. Yet he merely hummed in response, not unaware of the suggestion in your voice.

You thought perhaps that was the end of it, having failed to convince him and surrendering instead to sitting atop him, legs splayed on either side of his thighs, basking in the morning radiance.

“Come here.” He mumbled into your throat, his hand setting aside the book in his grasp and landing on your thighs, dragging them outwards, wider. You followed the gesture obediently, soft off sleep and guided by his anchoring touch. Ever the mentor, the lantern guiding you.

It didn’t take long for his fingers to find the core of you, cupping you with a sharp hiss of air as he realized you were bare of everything except his shirt. Yet his chuckle was warm, dripping in sunlight as the rough pads of his fingers circled through your damp folds.

“Needy this morning, are we?”

You only arched against him with a purr, limbs heavy and sated even hours after last night’s lovemaking. Your answer came only in the gentle rock of your hips against his hand. Insistent, dizzying, desiring and yet gentle in the soft, golden twilight of sunrise.

A whine crawled from your throat when his touch vanished from you, but Price had shifted, hand descending under your ass to drag the length of him from his sweatpants. Wordlessly, he used the calloused flat of his palm to drag you upwards, thumb smearing under the head of him as he dragged the tip through the slickness of you.

“John.” You echoed pleadingly, grinding down with a small, testing roll of your hips.

You felt him smile against your shoulder before he shifted you both, your toes skimming the cold wooden floor as he slotted himself at your entrance. With a firm, throbbing roll of his hips he pushed inside you, still only half hard but warm, full as he stretched into the slicked, velvety embrace of you.

When you moaned his hand only guided you to his waiting lips, drinking down the breathiness of you, tongue grazing across the plump fullness of your bottom lip. When you rolled your hips downwards, however, sliding him further, deeper, he only broke from you, shaking his head with a gentle little tsk.

“Just stay here for a bit, darling.” He crooned, fingers descending to graze across the junction of your both. “I’ll take care of you in a bit. Just want you in my arms, right here. Want to be inside you.”

You whined a little in protest, to which John only pressed a smiling, teasing kiss on the tip of your nose before reaching for his book once more. Yet deliciously drowsy as you were, full and achingly content with the lingering afterburn of the night prior, you allowed it. Sighing, you reclined into him, head drooping against his shoulder and losing yourself in the dragging scattering of sparks left by his thumb rubbing circles into the meat of your hip.

Sleep beckons at you with a familiar caress, murmuring low and resplendent across your senses. Honey and sunlight, it drips from your form and glosses over your skin, paints you in gauzy, lustrous radiance. You try to chase it, but find yourself instead anchored by John’s touch. Each time you still, head drooping, eyes fluttering, he drags you back with grazing kisses that leave you dizzy in the incandescent aftereffects, drinking down your hypnotic, aching moans and breathy gasps.

All the while his eyes roam across the book in his grasp, keen, bright eyes taking in every word, every sublime detail even with you splayed drowsy and ductile in his lap. When he offers a lazy, indulgent roll of his hips you whine into him, feeling it spark a brightness inside you that ebbs and flows with every twitch of him, every dragging breath in his chest.

“John.” You plead, voice hardly a murmur, nose bumping under his jaw.

He doesn’t respond beyond a small huff, his fingers tapping against your thigh.

“John.” You repeat a little more insistently this time, shifting and rising, sinking down on him until his hand curls against you, a gentle warning.

“I’m almost done with this chapter, love.” He returns, but his voice is oozing affection, sweet like the glaze atop the breakfast pastries waiting for you on the kitchen counter, still wrapped in their bakery box.

“Please.” You try, stretching on your toes so you can graze your teeth up to his ear.

You feel him suppress a shudder, throat clicking as he swallows. It only makes you smile, the hand on your lap descending to the base of him. His hand stops you, but the touch is indulgent, far from scolding.

“Impatient.” He tuts, but his voice dips low in his chest with a stifled moan as you grind down atop him. “We may need to revisit our lessons in patience, darling.”

You only hum, the note rising high in your throat until it spills outward as a gasp when he rolls up to meet your downward thrust.

“Need you.” You slur at him, eyes still closed, relishing the tender, glowing pleasure of him that bleeds into you, leaves gold tinting the underside of your skin.

“I know, love.” He returns, shifting so his lips at last descend to yours. Slow, aching. You’re left delirious by his touch alone, drunk off the taste of him. The flavor curls sweet and cloying across your tongue as it swipes across the front row of his teeth. Syrupy, viscous, it floods outwards when he plants his feet, rolls upwards into the tight, wanting clutch of you.

You feel him shift, and there’s a telltale rustle as he bookmarks his chapter, sets it aside. He smiled into your kiss, gentle and indulgent despite the sternness of his touch, the guiding firm grasp of his that settles across your hips. When he speaks again you tip your head to catch his words across your tongue, and he chases you downwards into the depths of desire.

“I know, my darling girl.”

#captain john price #john price #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price smut #mw 22 #cod mw22 #mw22 #my writing #my fic #oneshot #18 +#minors dni #smut #A rare Price from me #I usually don't write for him but #enjoy!

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featherstreams · 5 months

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Cheer Up and Tell

A/N: Thank you again to @queenofcreatures14 for the request! (So sorry for the tag)I had a lot of fun with this one and ended up making it a lot softer than I intended! I hope you enjoy either way!! (Repost edit: No changes have been made to this, it’s purely a repost!)

Lee: Todoroki

Ler: Midoriya

Word Count: 1,348

Warnings: None! (Slight angst at the end? Very brief)

Summary: See ask above^💚

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"Are you okay, Shoto?"

"I'm fine, Midoriya." Todoroki said without looking up from his phone.

“Really? You seem like something is bothering you," Midoriya replied, scratching the back of his head. It was a semi-normal Tuesday night, and they were both seated together in Todoroki's dorm room. The owner of the room was seated on his bed, back against the wall and playing on his phone while Midoriya was seated on the floor, leaning against the bedframe and fiddling with one of his school notebooks. It'd been a long day of school and training, and Midoriya's boyfriend had spent that entire day brooding and grouchy. Yesterday had been much the same. Actually, Todoroki had been acting this way since returning to the dorms Sunday night from spending the weekend "out." He'd refused to say where he'd gone, but Midoriya suspected it'd probably been to his house, based on the moodiness Todoroki was displaying.

"How many times must I say that I am fine before you hear me for once? God." Todoroki said, voice strained and annoyed. The peppermint hero seemed to backtrack, however, upon noticing the hurt expression on Deku's face. "I'm sorry. It's just... I'm tired, Izuku. It was a long weekend."

Midoriya hummed at that, turning onto his knees to face Todoroki, resting his arms on the edge of the bed. "You can talk to me, Shoto. It might help you feel better about whatever is bothering you."

"It's alright. I just want to relax," Todoroki replied, but the hesitation before he got the words out told Midoriya enough. He wanted to share; but it was still hard sometimes for Todoroki to open up after so many years of bottling things up. Sometimes he just needed a bit of... encouragement. And Midoriya knew just the thing.

The greenette crawled up onto the bed and to his boyfriend. "Come cuddle with me." He said beckoningly, taking Todoroki's hand and pulling him away from the wall. After a moment, his boyfriend obeyed, setting his phone down on the bed and crawling towards him. The moment he was a safe distance from the wall, Midoriya yanked Todoroki's wrist and flipped him down, pinning him gracefully down against the bed, belly-up. Todoroki blinked up at him, surprised.

"Izuku? What was that for?" His brows furrowed when Deku said nothing, sliding onto Todoroki's waist. "Come on, Izuku, I'm not in the mood for this. Get off m- Eep!" The tired demand was cut off with the most adorable squeak as Midoriya pinched his sides.

"Did you just say 'meep'?" Midoriya teased with a giggle, his hands now teasing under Todoroki's shirt to trace his sides. The peppermint hero's own hands slammed down, gripping Izuku's wrists. Todoroki threw his head back, laughter spilling out of him almost immediately as Izuku's hands spidered up and down his sides and ribs beneath his shirt. The half and half hero's' hands did nothing to stop the greenette.

"Izuku- No," Shoto said, trying to look serious, but failing thanks to the smile plastered to his face.

"Izuku, yes," Midoriya replied cheerfully before his hands came to life.

Todoroki threw his head back, laughter spilling out of him almost immediately as Izuku's hands spidered up and down his sides and ribs beneath his shirt. The half and half hero's' hands did nothing to stop the greenette."Ihihizukuhuhu!! N-Nahahahaha!! Whahahat are you d-doHOHOing?!!" Todoroki giggled out, shaking his head as his cheeks warmed with color.

"What does it look like I'm doing, peppermint?" Izuku teased back, smiling down at the half and half hero. "You've been moody since Sunday, and I want to know why."

"Ihihihihi told you, I'm fihihihiHIHIne!!!"

"No, you're not, and I'm tired of you lying that you are. I won't stop tickling you until you tell me what's wrong."

Todoroki's laughter pitched at that, aided by Midoriya's fingers, which were slowly crawling up his ribs. He squirmed in Midoriya's ever-so-ticklish grasp but remained steadfastly where he was.

"Come on, gigglebox," Midoriya coaxed, smiling at the blush that brought to his boyfriend's cheeks.

"DohoHOhont call mehehehe thaha-AHAHAHA WAIT WAIT NOHOHO! IZUKUHUHU!" Todoroki cried when Midoriya's hands pinched their way up between Todoroki's arms, massaging into his armpits. Todoroki's head was thrown back, his laughter reaching new, adorable, heights as he was lost to hysterics.

"No?" Midoriya repeated with a playful smile. "What do you mean no, gigglebox? If you didn't like this, we both know you could freeze me and get me off you."

"SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUP!!" Todoroki managed to get out between giggly laughter, because they both knew Izuku was right, and Todoroki was obviously embarrassed at having been called out.

"That's not very nice, Sho," Midoriya scolded. "I'm being so good to you, cheering you up, and you're being mean in reply?" His fingers stilled their tickly dance at this, and Todoroki caught his breath, eyes on his boyfriend, cheeks pink.

"You're not being good to me, you're tickling me," Todoroki panted.

"Is there a difference?" He asked sweetly, causing Todoroki's face to erupt in a lovely shade of soft red.

Midoriya scooted down his boyfriend's waist to his thighs, quickly switching around to face his lower legs.

"Izuku- Wait, wait, wa-ahahait!" Todoroki protested before his boyfriend's devious hands had him giggling beneath him as they traced Todoroki's feet.

"Tell me what's wrong, Shoto," Midoriya said, looking behind him to his lover's face. When he received no response, he dug in, fingernails dancing across the skin of Todoroki's feet. Shoto erupted into loud laughter, jerking beneath him as he threw his head back. He was normally quite a quiet person, and that transferred to tickling, leaving the Todoroki in giggles and sometimes even squeaks. But when you got him in these two lovely sensitive spots - underarms and feet - it always had him squealing, sometimes enough to gain noise complaints from their surrounding classmates in their own dorm rooms.

"PLEHEHEASE!!" Shoto cried, jerking up into a sitting position in a vain attempt to stop his boyfriend's mischief. He threw his arms over Midoriya's shoulders, but failed to reach his feet or the greenette's arms to end the tickles. He collapsed into the boy's back instead, hands clenching the fabric of Midoriya's shirt as he trembled with mirth.

"OKAHAHAY OKAY OKAHEHEHE!!" He shrieked at last, pulling at Deku's shirt. "I'LL TELL, IHIHI'LL TELL, NO MOHOHOHORE I-IZUHUHUKUHUHU!!"

Midoriya stopped, laying his hands flat against Todoroki's feet as he glanced over his shoulder. "You okay, love?" He asked, worried he'd possibly gone a little overboard.

"Yehehes, Yes. I-I'm okahay," Shoto replied, still wracked with leftover giggles. Midoriya began smoothing his hands over Todoroki's feet, hoping to sooth away the leftover tingles from the tickly treatment. This helped, and after another few moments, Shoto calmed down, silence overtaking the bedroom.

"I'm sorry," Shoto said at last, finally calmed. "I know I've been a bit of a pain. I just... I had a hard weekend with my father. He was giving me a lot of trouble over my training and... Over how much time I was spending with you." His arms snaked around Midoriya's waist, and Izuku abandoned his massage to lay his own over his boyfriend's, staring down at his lap sadly.

"I'm sorry, Shoto," He said honestly. "We both know Endeavor just likes to cause problems. Don't let him get you down, alright? And don't hide it, either. You should have come to me sooner. You can always talk to me about these things."

"I know." Todoroki's chin lifted to rest on Midoriya's shoulder, his eyes slipping closed, relaxed and safe with the other, and sleepy from his tickly exercise. "I apologize. I promise that I'll talk to you next time instead of shutting you out."

"You'd better," Midoriya said with a huff, smiling. "Now you know what happens when you don't."

"Hm... While that may be true..." The arms around his waist tightened, hands curling in. "In the future, you'll also know what happens after your little persuasions."

Midoriya gulped, his hands scrambling to grip Todoroki's wrists. "Sh-Shoto, Shoto, come on- I was just..! W-Wait, wahahait, wahAHAIT-! NOHOHO TICKLES!! SHOHOHOTO!!"

#my scribbles💚#ler!midoriya #ler!deku #lee!todoroki #bnha tickles #mha tickles #mha tickle #bnha tickle #ticklish!todoroki #tword community #t word community #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle content #tickle fluff #sfw tickle community #tickle tickle #my posts📫

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suzukiblu · 8 months

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I haven’t seen your Cass (Cain) at all. I’d love to see her. I’d also LOVE to get to see some Chris and Lois (or more Kon and Lois)! Lois choosing to be a mother despite lacking most of the natural instincts, and having issues with her own parents, means so much to me!

I def have a few WIPs with parental!Lois ahead, mostly with Kon and Match, but since I don't think I've posted anything with Cass yet, have this scene.

Context: omega!Jason is high-key feral and compulsively nesting about it.

"What on earth are you doing in there, Todd?" Pup Brother asks, eyeing the crumpled blankets on the foyer floor. Quiet Sister is standing beside him and looks excited, leaning forward towards the doorway on her tiptoes. Jason didn't notice them coming, but he wasn't all that worried about listening for anyone either. Also, they're both very quiet when they move anyway.

"Nest," Jason says. He doesn't think he's being all that subtle here, but Pup Brother didn't get a traditional pack upbringing, he knows. At least, not the kind that allowed for nesting. That's not really how the League works.

Jason definitely never nested when he was with the League.

". . . nest?" Pup Brother asks, and looks just a little bit curious.

Does Pup Brother ever build nests, Jason wonders? He's an omega too. He should learn how, if he hasn't yet.

"Nest," he repeats firmly, then gestures beckoningly with a blanket that smells acceptably of packscent. Pup Brother frowns, looking confused.

Nest! Quiet Sister signs delightedly before giving Pup Brother an encouraging push into the living room. She doesn't come in herself, though. Which–Quiet Sister is an alpha, of course, so that makes sense. Jason just wasn't sure if she'd know the etiquette, all things considered.

"Er," Pup Brother says doubtfully, glancing between them. "Do you require . . . assistance, Todd?"

Jason dumps an armful of throw pillows on him, then starts demonstrating how to arrange them on the floor. Pup Brother frowns again, holding the unused pillows in his arms and observing the building process intently. Jason is pleased. Pup Brother should learn this. Pup Brother should learn this, so he's showing Pup Brother this. So he's being good! Very good. A good omega. Yes!

They're both being good.

So that's good.

Jason purrs some more. Quiet Sister flutters her hands happily, still waiting in the doorway. Jason wants to invite her in, but really needs to get the nest more established first.

He'll let her in the nest itself, he already knows. Once it's done, obviously. Quiet Sister probably hasn't really been in a nest before–Pup Brother is the only other omega in the pack, after all, and she doesn't have an omega mate or any omega friends, so when would she have?

. . . unless she's still courting that weird flirty omega from Little Brother's other pack, maybe? The sort-of-alien-sort-of-human one that makes cloud castles and almost drowned with her in a basement that one time or whatever. Whatever his name is.

Or . . . wait, was Little Brother the one courting him?

Hm.

Well, maybe they both were. Jason isn't really sure, come to think.

He'll ask later, he decides, and lays down some more throw pillows. Either way he's still inviting Quiet Sister into his nest once it's done. Quiet Sister deserves all the nests she can get.

Jason hopes she'll like his.

#jason todd #cass cain #damian wayne #batfamily #kiragecko #rinfic #omegaverse #not sfw #yes I remember when Kon and Cass almost died together and I still ship them for it #also the cloud castles #wip: jason goes home

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faffreux · 5 months

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So I got sent this fanfiction by an anonymous person that wanted me to read it really badly and I open it up to skim through a WIP story that is literally copying the entire starting premise of mine with the author's own OC. Very specific details of MY story are present including the OC working as a barista at Starbeans, being unhappy, Fawful arriving in a hooded cloak, them connecting over conversation, the barista paying for Fawful's coffee without knowing who he is, etc. while eventually figuring it out over the course of the start of the story. All things I've blatantly spoken about and mentioned here on my blog and in other places prior.

With of course eventually this barista ending up Fawful's partner in crime and in romance. Also, Fawful lives in an underground lab he built himself after the events of BIS? OH WAIT.. AND THE OC HAS A DREAM WHERE FAWFUL APPEARS IN HIS V NECK JUMPSUIT AND HAS HIS HAND OUTSTRETCHED TOWARDS HIM BECKONINGLY??

Are you for real? Are you intentionally trolling me or something? I can't help but think you're being sincere by the clear amount of effort you put into writing this but this is not funny and I do not appreciate it.

I'm sorry, but please fucking stop. I even have my specific trigger listed in my about me page. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? I damn well hope you see this.

Get some originality bc you clearly need it.

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trrickytickle · 1 year

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Therapy Dog

(great art by @//akkasute on Instagram)

Fandom: Puss in Boots: The Last Wish ☠️

A/N: I remember when I said I’d do some tickle art for this movie- I wanted to, couldn’t find the time, but I got an idea for a fic after seeing lots of pics of Perrito and Death’s friendship in the film! Speaking of 2022 blockbusters, I wanna do something with the new Avatar movie lol, so anyways- onto fic :D

Pairing: Perrito + Death, friendship, lee!Perrito, ler!Death

Death itself was the only force that could make fearless hero Puss in Boots’ whiskers fray, its eerie whistle howling whenever the red eyes met his. This force had a non-metaphorical or rhetorical, honest to goodness face, and while it wasn’t ugly, it was unsightly to behold.

But right now, two beady eyes dared to look directly in the face of death, straight-up asking to be at the mercy of its claws.

“...Que?”

“Rub my belly! Come on! Pleaaase? Pretty-pretty please?”

Perrito, the tiny dog wormed his gut out of the sock-sweater he wore, staring beckoningly. Rolling around to give an extra-cute effect, the scar and gurgling noises coming from it weren’t helping at all.

“I’ve asked Puss- and-and Kitty, but they all refused- and like, I said to them that it’s PRACTICE for being a therapy dog-”

Death scoffed. “..La Muerte doesn’t need therapy.”

“But isn’t death.. sad?” Perrito beckoned.

“Do I look like I’m crying right now, perro?”

“No, no, let me explain!” the dog got back on his hind legs, pacing around Death almost like he orbited him, “Don’t you see people’s families grieve...”

“All the time. Listen, nino, it means they’ve lived a good life-”

“People being murdered..”

“Now, now, perro..”

“One day, you could just take one of us- Team Friendship-” -Perrito gestured, pawing at the air and jumping around- “when we haven’t lived to the fullest and just- SNATCH!- the life out of-” At that, Death interfered, using his paw to signal him to sit down.

“Okay.” He growled.

“Wh- what?” Perrito lit up. His pupils enlarged, tounge out- almost panting.

“Okay.” Death repeated. “I’ll rub your belly.”

“I know! I just wanted to hear you say it again! I’m so EXCITED!” Perrito barked, flipping himself over as if to get ready. Death flinched. Did he have worms or something? Alright, let’s get this over with. he thought, reaching his claw over to prod at Perrito’s gut as lightly as possible. No panting. No leg-kicking. No nothing that would indicate a dog in a state of pure ecstacy. Not that he would know, of course. There were, instead, tittering and slight giggles. Not the usual. Death stilled its spindle-like fingers, afraid to take someone he didn’t intend to away. Instead, Perrito whined in impatience.

“Keep going, keep going!” he beckoned. Death, resigned, did just that. In all his humiliation, he couldn’t admit he felt a warmth in his cold embrace. Speeding it up, he gently placed two more claws onto Perrito’s belly, scritch-scratching it in a circular motion. With that the giggling grew louder and louder, erupting into full-scale belly laughter.

“Kk-HA-hahaha-HA! Dehehe- DEATH! DEATH! Thaha- that tickles! Hahaha-HA!” Now there was that leg kicking. The puppy writhed around, shaking as if spilling the mirth he had inside out all over the place. Death scowled in response, as per the usual. Despite saying nothing, he kept on going while Perrito was attempting to keep still to no avail. He kept rolling around and kicking his leg like he was scratching invisible fleas.

“Keep still, perro.” Death broke his silence, leaving Perrito in that play-bow position he first laid in.The gentle scratches were practically about as effective as a sickle scar to the chest, and secretly he was relishing in it. Stifling a Cheshire cat grin, he moved his claws up and down, slyly yet slightly experimenting with different techniques.

“Ha-hahahaha-haha- HA! Yehe- YEAH, Deahath! Let ahall those emohohotions out!” The encouragement made Death feel like Perrito was almost egging him on. But the concept itself shrugged that inferior concept off, going in straight for the kill out of pure cuteness-aggression.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve got LOTS to work on.. And we’re just getting started, perro..” Death whispered in a strangely teasing and cooing tone, one he had never used in the past.

“Let’s sta-haha-hart with your- AHAHAHA-HAHA-AHAHANGER ISSUES!” With his long snout, he nuzzled Perrito’s stomach feverously, tickling him with the coldness of his nose and fluff of his muzzle. Even when he was close to the sharp teeth of death itself, Perrito laughed. He was laughing in the face of death, sparkling with life.

“Yes..?” Death smirked, halting his attack.

“Well- well, aha, you tend to let it all out on the people you take, and that includes Puss, and...” Perrito prattled, gesturing with his forelegs.

“And...” Death continued. “I’ll huff- and I’ll puff- and I’ll blow the house down!” He blew a raspberry- the best one he could do with his pointed snout.

“GK-HAHAHA-HAHA-HA!!” Perrito cackled, kicking both his hind legs frantically. Death halted, leaving the little dog a breather. “*pant* *pant* *pant* Ya know, Death, that was a workout! We should have another session sometime! Really work on telling me those feelings rather than whatever magic you were working over there with your nose- Hey, thanks for rubbing my belly, by the way! You look happier already!” he rambled at a breakneck pace, following Death’s trailing charcoal cloak. And he smiled. Smiled back. Not a “let’s never speak of this”, not a frown, not nothing. As a reverberating whistle whisked by, there was an echo of a sentence.

“You’re gonna be one hell of a therapy dog.”

#tickling #tickle community #tickle fic #t-word #tfb community #tickle #lee #tword #ler #it bugs me that my keyboard can't spanish

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pockavas · 7 months

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Halsin - trusting your fears

P.S. First time posting such thing. Hope all will enjoy it.

It was a long and tiring day, after which you didn't even want to talk to your campmates, but to retreat to some quiet corner and be alone with your thoughts.

Covered in dirt and dried blood, Ross decided that this peaceful spot by the nearby river stream is perfect and through its clear and cool water she could shake off the accumulated dirt on her body.

She hurried through her tent to get clean clothes and a special jar of scented oils, with that much-loved mix of rose oil and honey.

She liked a stony spot on the bank of the stream, where she could comfortably sit down and enjoy the refreshment. She didn't strip naked, she decided that there was no need, and started dousing herself with the towel, diligently scrubbing every single spot of blood and mud that she could see. When she decided she was clean enough, she devoted herself to caring for her hair, rubbing the oil in thoroughly, inhaling its relaxing aroma.

Immersed in her work, until the last moment she did not notice the approaching huge bear on the opposite bank, which with clumsy but steady steps directly entered the stream, noisily splashing the water around its powerful paws.

As a ranger who spent most of her conscious time in the backwoods and was intimately familiar with the flora and fauna of the forest, Ross decided it was best to lay low and see where the course of the event would take her. She took a closer look with her trained eye, and thankfully realized she knew this bear, it was Halsin, in his wild form. What a majestic beast he was in this condition, inspiring fear among enemies and respect among allies.

This druid, this rock of nature, was all that attracted Ross. Older, more experienced, wise even, strong and powerful, at the same time infinitely attentive, tolerant, concerned, funny even.

During their weeks together, in camp or on the battlefield, they got to know each other. Ross was definitely interested in him, and more than once she had asked him out for a drink, to relax away from cares and others, but he always refused, managing not to be rude and at the same time saying things that suggested to her that Halsin also has an interest in her but restrains from action.

Halsin Bear entered the stream up to his belly, and in the next moment he transformed back into his human form. This was always accompanied by a blinding golden light and was always impressive. Ross never moved, but he noticed her immediately, their eyes meeting. There was a moment of surprise in his look, and then he became calm as morning light, and a soft smile crossed his lips.

Ross hesitated for a moment longer how to react, seeing him naked to the waist, the water dripping from his hair, his wet body, his broad shoulders, his strong arms. It was a sight that made her hold her breath.

"- Sorry if I startled you!" Halsin said meekly, "I needed to get the goblin blood out of me. Although children of nature, they deny everything she stands for."

"-Yes, I understand you completely. I too felt this need and came here first."

"-But I interrupted you, I didn't mean to disturb your peace. Come, the stream is all yours."-Halsin held out his hands beckoningly to Ross, but she did not reach for them immediately. "-What's wrong, why are you hesitating?" he asked worriedly.

"-Well... I... Do you remember when we shared things about ourselves the first time, and I told you that I was afraid of water. At first you thought I was joking, but it really is. About this I'm standing here in the shallows."

Halsin's expression softened even more, a hint of apology running through him. He stepped towards her, still with outstretched arms:

"- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have underestimated your words then. Now I'll show you it's not scary. Trust me!"

Ross trusted him, he had saved her life more than once and she had saved his. She didn't wait any longer and placed her hands in his, which were immeasurably larger, stronger and surer. Like this, Halsin backed into the deeper part of the stream, slowly and calmly, reading her every expression. After only a few steps, Ross stopped feeling the bottom beneath her feet and panic began to rise within her.

One by one she removed her hands from his palms, clinging tightly to his biceps, then wrapped both arms around his neck as if she were a drowning man clutching a steady log, trying to stay afloat.

Halsin smelled the scent wafting from her hair, his favorite honey, a scent that made him inhale deeply and close his eyes for a moment. He remembered the first time he'd spotted it in the goblin lair, when Ross had saved him from them, saved a raging bear, not knowing if she'd be attacked in return for her help.

Halsin sensed Ross's fear instantly, not protesting but wrapping his powerful arms around her waist to make her feel more secure. She was so small and fragile in his arms.

And what a certainty that was. Halsin was like a monument that you knew would never yield. Every muscle of his felt infinitely warm, despite the cold water. A hug you never want to leave.

"-It's okay Ross, I'm holding you. I'm with you!" - he whispered to her - "There is nothing to be afraid of."

"-I... I know, I'm at peace with you, but it's a fear deep inside me that's hard to fight. Primal. You know what it is! And against nature, it's hard to fight."

Halsyn gently released her arms from the grip around his neck, placing her palms on his chest. She felt his pulse, so calm, steady, balanced. She just had to follow that rhythm.

"-Let me show you how nice it is to let the current wash everything away from you."

Everything needed to convince her was read in his eyes. Holding her hands again, Halsin placed her in front of him, now holding her with one hand on her back and one on her stomach. Without giving her a sign, Ross closed ers eyes, surrendering to her trust in him. She leaned back as if the water were the most comfortable bed, only her face remained above the surface.

It felt like you were floating on clouds, not swimming. For a moment the world disappeared, no stream, no enemies, just her and Halsin's warm hands on her skin.

Halsin was beside her, smiling blissfully, seeing the effect this small gesture had on Ross's mind.

He decided enough was enough. He gently straightened her up and pulled her to him. Ross didn't rush to open her eyes, and when she did, she saw him looking at her. She was all in his eyes, sinking into them. Ross realized that he had been staring at her. That her wet hair fell over her shoulders, that her underwear didn't really hide her nakedness, that her breasts had hardened, her nipples even more, from both the cold water and his unrelenting presence beside her, one of her straps had fallen, revealing part of her tattoos.

She didn't mind it, she wanted him to look at her, and not only that, she wanted more from him, but the current problems with the Shadow Curse, the guilt gnawing at him, made the deflections of her invitations somewhat murky. And she had decided, as much as she wanted it , to respect his will.

And how much he wanted her! But he couldn't indulge his desires just yet, not until the job was done. Until then, everything had to remain in his mind, in his dreams. But he couldn't deny his body. This woman, an excellent hunter, master of the bow, flexible and agaile as his string, fearless in the face of danger, yet so frail and small in his hands, who shared her only fear with him.

Wet, fragrant as spring, with clothes as transparent as morning mist, only hinting at the treasures beneath.

"-Halsin?" - called him quietly by name, approaching him, placing her hands on his chest again - "Halsin?" - even closer now. She could feel his warm breath on her face.

"-I'm sorry, I..., I forgot myself, I forgot I was immersed in the beauty and genius of Mother Nature's creation. I am happy that she trusted me and shared her innermost fear with me. It is a gift that I will keep close to my heart ."

Without waiting for her answer, he led her back to the shallows, leaving her to sit by the jar of fragrant oil.

"-Don't stay wet too long, I don't want you to catch a cold."- he ran his fingers down her arm, to her shoulder, a simple touch electrifying her skin, he put her shoulder strap back in place. A gesture that completely contradicted what he wanted to do - to tear the thin fabric and soak up every drop of water from her skin with his lips.

Realizing that Halsin actually intended to leave, Ross put her hand on top of his while still on her shoulder, the other running through his wet hair that was dripping onto her. Halsin was kneeling next to her, literally casting a shadow, so large he was, encompassing her entire being.

"-You don't have to leave. You can stay and make sure I don't catch a cold."

"-Don't think I don't want it. My desire extends far beyond that, ...but I must stay focused on the dangers that lie ahead. I fear that if I get too distracted, it could cost us dearly.

... And also.... I want to be able to give my full attention to the object of my desire, because it deserves everything, and nothing less. To do otherwise would not be fair, but egotistical on my part."

"-Halsin...."-what can you say against those words, sincere, kind, spoken in the warmest voice -"I will always respect your position. What else could I do?!"- Ross gave him an encouraging smile , behind which there was a slight sadness and a note of disappointment.

She didn't wait for Halsin to leave, got up before him, gathered her clothes and started back to camp. She did not notice that the jar of perfumes was left, a fact that did not escape Halsin's sharp gaze. He reached for the small container, opened the decorated lid. He couldn't resist inhaling the aroma that grabbed his mind and took him momentarily into his dreams where he was holding Ross in his arms, their bodies entwining in pleasure....indulging in their nature.... Even only in his, this vison, this desire, it was so strong that it strained his muscles, from the back of his neck to those between his legs.

Halsyn wrapped his fist around the jar, opened his eyes, a mixture of lust, disappointment, and anger. Lust and passion, struggling with disappointment in himself, that he has to turn his back on the object of his feelings for now to atone for his guilt. Anger at the whole situation, anger at him for almost pushing her away, denying the nature of both of them, and not knowing what the new day and the dangerous world they live in will bring.

#baldur's gate 3 #halsin #halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin romance #halsin bg3 #baldurs gate 3

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sparrowhero · 2 years

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You are more than friends, not quite lovers– something indefinable in simple words. Hawks x Reader

Confidante Ch. 1

It’s always a little chilly in Hawks’ apartment. Maybe it was the several tall windows that surrounded the penthouse from all sides, or the fact that Hawks himself was just used to the brisk temperatures high above the clouds, but it was always hard to get up out from under one of his large, red wings and comfortable duvet in the morning. Today was no different– his wings were longer than he was tall when they were spread out, and one of the only ways he can sleep well is with his wings spread out and laying on his stomach. Like it or not, that meant you would be toasty right underneath, his arm (sometimes a leg too), slung over you like your own personal heating pad. You try to wiggle out from under him as gently as possible, but trying to do anything without him noticing is an exercise in futility. His wings twitch the moment you move, and the next second, his voice is almost directly in your ear.

“Mmm, hey. Mornin’.” He yawns, chin resting on your shoulder. His voice in the morning is deceptively low and scratchy from sleep, but you’re certain that he’s more awake than you are right now. “What’s the rush? Sun’s barely even up.” He tightens his arm around you childishly to keep you from leaving.

“We should at least pull back the curtains and let in some of that natural light you’re so proud of.” You reply back, pushing his face back playfully. He allows it, though he groans in a faux complaint that’s muffled by his face falling flat on the pillow once you properly sit up. You press the button on the remote control for the curtains, allowing them to slowly let the light flood into the space.

You had to hand it to him: the view was worth it. All of the city beneath you as well as the bright, vast blue of the sky above. Even though the morning light was blinding, once you blinked away most of the blurriness in your eyes, it was calming. It also helped that the large windows were tinted on the outside so no one could “accidentally” see you relaxing in bed with the number three hero in Japan.

Not that you were sleeping with him– well, not in that way, at least– but nobody would believe you

if they saw you nestled in bed with him the way you were before. The coffee maker bubbling away in the background, the sound of Hawks’ rhythmic breathing, and view of the city below make for a rare, peaceful morning.

You can feel his eyes on you, and soon enough, a fierce feather tickles your cheek as he reaches out his wing beckoningly.

“Come back to bed, I’m gettin’ lonely over here.”

You swat playfully at his wing, but he’s relentless. Next thing you know, he’s draped himself over your shoulders, wings and all. His bare chest presses against you, and you can feel the fluttering of his heart against your back. Even his heartbeat is fast, the steady rhythm is more familiar to you than your own at this point.

“You big baby.” You accuse, though you reach back behind you to stroke his messy hair.

“Yeah, maybe I am.” A low, rumbling laugh in your ear. “You know me: when I want something, I can’t help but reach out and get it.” His hands squeeze around your midsection just a little tighter, and he kisses you right on the junction of the shoulder and your neck. In response, you turn your head and press a kiss onto his cheek that slowly moves towards his lips.

To anyone looking in, they’d be convinced you were lovers. You two did love each other in your own ways, but you were not in love with each other. A relationship where you fulfilled each others’ need for trust, intimacy, and affection.

Plenty of people would kill to be in your place, but you’re not sure if they would be able to handle it if they weren’t the same kind of people that you and Hawks were.

It’s probably why you’re able to coexist like this. There’s no way he can hurt you, because you’re in love with somebody else. Maybe that’s why he acts so selfishly around you– he knows you’re only ever going to give what you want, and you don’t expect anything special from him. Even if all of this stopped tomorrow, nothing would change between the two of you. He would still be your good buddy Hawks, and vice versa.

The media would have a field day with that. He has to be ‘everyone’s Hawks.’ You remember him complaining about the head of the HPSC scolding him for getting too friendly with some up and coming celebrity a few months ago. They’d only just been seen exiting a restaurant together coincidentally (whether that was true or not, you honestly didn’t care), but he was put on probation and had to do extra work to keep his image up.

You wonder, idly, how much volunteer work he’d have to do if people found out about your arrangement. For starters, you’re not a big name hero in the slightest. Your friendship happened by chance– a work venture, then a couple of drinks, a few late-night talks, slowly progressing over the last year into whatever ‘this’ was now. Thinking back, while your meeting was a trick of fate, everything afterwards was probably of your own similarities. Sometimes people were drawn to their opposites, what they lacked, and avoided those who mirrored what they had. You just melted into each other in such a way that the boundaries between you slowly disappeared.

It’s why kissing him doesn’t make your heart race. Sure, it feels nice (Keigo is a good kisser, gentle and considerate) but it’s more like being wrapped in a blanket: something comfortable and safe. You’ve never felt the kind of hunger to kiss him the way you feel for…You still don’t want to think about that person right now.

He’s got that early morning fuzz that brushes your cheeks while he sighs against your lips, matching with the little beard that grows in patches on his chin. He sleeps bare chested, so the direct warmth from him siphons directly onto you. He shifts around on the bed so he can kiss you properly, only loosening his arms around you enough to allow you both to face each other on the bed. Once he has full access to you, he wraps himself around you once again, his wings extending outward as if to keep the light of the outside world away.

Hawks presses affectionate kisses onto your cheeks, gentle pecks like butterfly wings scattered about your face. He seems to enjoy the ticklish feeling they give you, refusing to let you wiggle out as he continues them down your neck and eventually blowing a raspberry on the junction between your head and shoulders. You can’t help but laugh, falling backwards on your back while Hawks takes advantage and hovers over you. He spends a moment to smile down at you with all of the fondness in the world before he kisses you like he means it. His tongue flicks teasingly against your lips, and his hands have somehow found themselves interlaced with yours against the bed. He’s all you can see right now, all you can feel. Part of you wishes he’d let go of your hands so you can hold him, but he’s clearly having too much fun to let that happen. You’d consider yourself lucky if he doesn’t go straight into tickling you for real this time.

“Better than getting up, yeah?” He asks, eyes crinkling into a smile. The hands that hold yours are incredibly gentle, caressing your skin. His hands are hard and callused, but god if they aren’t always so warm.

“It’s alright.” You tease, and he puts on an expression of mock hurt and surprise.

“I’ve been hunted, shot at, and bit by some of the baddest villains around, but they’ve got nothing on that mouth of yours.” He dramatically turns his head away for a moment, as if you had truly wounded him, before devilishly returning his gaze to you. “Guess I’ve gotta take care of it–”

His phone ringing stops that in its tracks, leaving you both to listen to the default tone and its accompanying vibrations on the side table. Hawks’ entire body stiffens, and as it goes through the second ring cycle, he knows he’s not going to be able to get out of not answering. He sighs and reluctantly reaches over you to go and pick up his phone.

“Hawks here…Yeah, sorry about that, I was just asleep.” He winks over at you, a silent apology as he gets off of the bed and walks towards the kitchen to continue his conversation. It had to have been something important.

“--No, no, I definitely wasn’t avoiding your call. Hawks’ honor.”

It’s incredibly hard to muffle the laugh that threatens to escape, but you succeed valiantly. Since he was probably going to hit the shower, you could get ready at a leisurely pace. You brushed your teeth and washed up while Hawks was in the shower that you still barely know how to use (Why are there so many nozzles? So many options? There was even a touch screen for music), and had a bowl of cereal waiting for him when he walked out in nearly full gear. Hawks has a nice kitchen for a guy who never steps foot in it outside of cooking instant ramen, but at least he keeps some staples stocked. It’s no full course meal, but at least he’ll have a bite before he flies off.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He praises as he slides into the seat across from you. Judging by the way he’s holding his mug, he’s already downed his first cup of the day. Hawks eats so quickly, you wonder if he can taste the food. It’s equal parts fascinating and kind of disgusting; you wonder if his fans would still be as crazy for him if they knew the kinds of food habits he has when no one is watching. Probably, if experience is any indication. “Thanks for the food! Don’t worry about the bed or dishes, leave whenever you want.” He reaches over and ruffles your hair before he leaves– literally jumping out one of his large windows. Another convenience offered to one of the most successful heroes in the business, you assume. You’re about to focus on your own meal when the sound of knocking on the windows alerts you. He’s still lingering, flapping his large, red wings outside. He makes the ‘phone’ hand gesture, and you grab your cell to call him.

“See you tonight?” His voice sounds scratchy and far away over the receiver, even though he's right there.

You wonder why he doesn’t just open the window again, but who could really tell just what goes on in that sandy blonde head of his.

“Not tonight, I’ve got work.” You answer in between bites of cereal. He frowns at you like a sad puppy from the tinted windows outside since he knows you can see him. “Hey, it may not be as illustrious as yours, but I have a hero career too.”

“Alright. I’ll call you later, see you when I see you?”

“See you when I see you. Now get going before you get yelled at.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you still made a shooing motion with your hand for him to fly off. The phone clicked off, and he was soon a bright red dot in the distance.

Now, time for you to start a truly daunting task. You take a long, lingering look at Hawks’ shower, a mix of emotions on your face.

Maybe today is the day you’ll learn how to work this thing without getting blasted or completely soaking his bathroom floor?

After somehow wrangling your way through Hawks’ overly complicated shower, you step onto the elevator with your overnight bag. One of the benefits of the building was privacy. Since Hawks’ apartment took the entire top floor and he had his own private elevator, it was easy enough to get in and out without looking suspicious. A secret so well-kept that even the doorman for the building didn’t know exactly where you ended up. For all they knew, you were just one of the many tenants in the building. You still waved politely at the doorman, who similarly smiled back, and checked to see if you had any texts on your way to work.

Your hero agency was small, located in the same prefecture as Hawks’. With as busy as he was around the country, there was no way even a guy like him could handle every little thing, so there were a lot of smaller agencies like yours scattered about. ‘Agency’ may have been a strong word since it encompassed you, your sidekick, your social media manager, and a tiny office rented out of a professional building, but it was yours.

“Good morning!” Your sidekick, Galligator, greets you, same as always, as you open the door to your office. Her long snout curls into a smile, scales immaculately shining in the fluorescent lighting.

“Good morning. Any messages?” You ask, dipping behind the screen to change into your hero costume.

“Tatsuki-san says that she may have an offer for a collaborative charity event with another hero here in Kyushu. She’s gonna go meet up with their manager today and hash out the details.” Lily, or as you know her, Galligator, chirps happily. You hired her when she was fresh out of school and boldly asked you to take a chance on her, and since then, she’d been by your side dutifully. As a mutant, she had an alligator quirk– fast in water, strong jaw, and even stronger hands– all beautifully maintained and her claw-like fingernails were always dutifully painted. You think that she could probably make it bigger, better at a larger agency, but she’s incredibly loyal to you.

‘I like the way you work.’ has always been her answer whenever you ask her if she’d like something more, a job reference to some of your more successful peers. “I really believe in us. We can do it!” Her enthusiasm is contagious when yours can tend to run dangerously low, so you couldn’t be thankful enough for her.

Most of the morning is devoted to catching up on any late paperwork or addendums to what’s previously been submitted. For bigger offices, you could leave that to a secretary, but it’s been divided between the two of you. Later on, you have a simple lunch and have a meeting with Tatsuki to discuss how to boost your image, and then the late afternoon and evening is devoted to patrolling the neighborhood and investigating any leads on current cases. According to the information that you and Lily have garnered, there’d been an influx of violent activity in the area around this time of night, so you’d go down there and have yourself a little sting operation.

“Uggghhh, I hate getting my hair wet.” She complained, putting her hair in the wet cap she used when diving. You chuckled at her– she sure was cute since it had a variety of pink stars on the top.

“You’re so brave, thank you for everything.” You praise her even as she huffs, diving underneath the water, now completely hidden by the dark of night. As for you, you hid yourself into the trees surrounding the water. The benefits of both of your quirks is that you were both very adept at camouflage. She absolutely disappeared in the water, and you were able to adopt the characteristics of whatever you were touching and “meld” with it. Right now, you were a tree, but if you really wanted, you could also sink into the loamy surface of the ground, but that was usually a last resort. The adopted physical aspects did help protect you from harm, but you have to be real: who wants to be dirty and stepped on?

Time goes by slowly in this state. You’re used to it; most of your training in school and internship was the grueling process of getting used to being in your melded form for long periods of time with no human contact. You can let your mind drift away to other places, able to be snapped back into the present at a moment’s notice. This late at night, most people around are either homeless and looking for a place to sleep, young couples trying to find a place to neck…and whatever allegedly was going to go down here. One hour passes. Two hours. At the third hour, you think that it may be a bust. Since you knew it was going to be a long night, the both of you had made extra sure to power nap in the afternoon, but it didn’t make the long day any easier. You hate to admit it, but you might have bit off more than you can chew

You’re a half second away from calling it a night when the air changes. Your senses, honed from years of hero work, prickle as you see a single figure walk down and take a seat on one of the rocks near the water. They’re completely covered in dark, nondescript clothing head to toe. They’re not too tall, and their figure is lean, but you can sense danger emanating from them despite their humble appearance.

This person is the one you’re waiting for. Lily attempts to swim closer, but as soon as she does, the figure whips to check the direction of the water. It sends a shiver down your spine. When she’s in the water, Lily is practically impossible to see or hear. One of the only reasons you’re able to pick her out right now is because of the years you’ve spent alongside her.

If their instincts were just that good…

You didn’t want to think about that. Just focus on whatever information you can gather. They moved too fast for you to get a proper look, unfortunately. Cursing the circumstances, you stare and strain your ears as much as possible when their apparent contact finally comes around. The guy who approaches is nothing compared to the first one— you can tell by his submissive body language that the guy sitting down is in charge.

“Haven’t…not yet…still looking.” You can just barely make out some words and phrases. It would help if the figure could turn your way— maybe you’d be able to hear him better. The wind is picking up, so maybe you could disguise your moving along the trees with it? You decide to take the risk, since these two seem a cut above the average criminal in your pay grade.

“Keep up the search.” The cloaked figure’s voice is detached, matching with their body language as they wave their underling away. “I expect results.” Results for what? They exchange something between them, something you recognize. You lean in just a bit more…

One of your leaves crack, and it’s all over. Whether he knows it or not, his bright blue eyes, illuminated by the flame, meet yours. You’re completely surrounded by a beautiful blue that blocks out almost your entire sight, and overwhelming heat. It doesn’t hurt, not yet. You have your outer shell to thank for it but you’d be lying if you didn’t have to rely on every single muscle in your body to keep from screaming as each second you were closer and closer to being burned.

His underling does it for you, jumping backwards and falling on his ass, demanding to know what the hell just happened?!

“I thought I felt someone watching me.” He replies easily. His arms once covered by his sleeve, reveal telltale purple scar tissue lined up against his pale skins. The staples— or maybe just simple piercings— glimmer in the moonlight. It feels like he’s looking directly at you, an unspoken challenge to drop the disguise and attempt to either get the fire out or beg for mercy. The skin on your arms and legs will be burnt and blistering red once you drop your quirk, but it’s better than being completely burnt alive. You can handle it.

You tell yourself that several times, grinding your teeth together to keep from screaming out. You’re strong.

“…guess I was just imagining things.” He shrugs, lightening the flames’ intensity and letting it burn out on its own. Noting his underling still on the ground, he callously nudges the man with his foot for him to get the fuck up already and get back to work. Not wanting to face the same fate you had, he scrambled to his feet and dashes away. The man watches him leave before adopting a leisurely pace the other direction. It feels like forever until he’s out of sight and you can finally drop your quirk.

You release with a loud exhale, throwing off the pieces of bark still alight with the blue flame and Lily cries out your name, leaping out of the water to drag you in and put out whatever was remaining. She plops you back on shore securely once the fire is completely out and she can check on all your wounds. Her eyes are shining with tears as she observes the bright red burns up and down your arms and legs.

“I’m so sorry!” She wails, and you shake your head to comfort her. It was the right call— that man was dangerous, and neither of you had the kind of combat experience to be able to take him in a one on one. You were both alive thanks to her ability to stay calm and rational.

“I— I couldn’t d-do anything!!” She objects as she picks you up and carefully hoists you on her back.

“You saved my life, Galligator.” You reassure her, and then hiss in pain while getting settled. You’d definitely need a trip to the hospital to get your wounds dressed, but something else was bothering you…

That man was definitely Dabi. Even the most ignorant of people these days knew how to recognize him; if the scars weren’t enough, it was those iconic blue flames. He was on a watchlist everywhere in the country, same as the rest of the League. Though as much as it confused you that he was in your area, that wasn’t the main issue.

You recalled the exchanging of hands between him and his underling… That shimmering red you’d recognize anywhere.

Lily’s voice feels far away as she quickly dials the number of the nearby hospital, letting them know of your arrival. Her cool, wet scales feel nice. Only one thought remains as she speeds down with you securely in tow:

Why did Dabi have a fierce feather?

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #confidante #gender neutral reader #have this.

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introvert-celeste · 11 months

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Mama's Home

A little sequel to "King Needs a Hug," now including Mama Eda!

Eda landed gracelessly in front of the Owl House, nearly crumpling the ground in exhaustion. It had been a long, tiresome day, and her body was all too eager to remind her of her age. Fighting the icy stiffness in her limbs—a futile endeavor—she hobbled toward the door, thinking only of her nest and the warm embrace of another body.

“Hoot, hoot…”

“What up, Owl boy?” Eda asked, acknowledging the little palisman on her shoulder.

Owlbert cocked his head the side, staring back at her expectantly, and in her muddled state it took her a moment to figure out what in the world he was trying to tell her. Couldn’t this wait until later? She almost made to shoo him away, when she realized that the hand she used was twice its usual size and twice as taloned, and that her body was twice the size of the door.

“Ugh, you’re right,” she groaned, beginning to rummage about for a spare elixir. “What would I ever do without you?”

“Hoot.”

Owlbert stared back at her, smug behind his usual wide-eyed expression, which she pointedly ignored.

She was still picking feathers from her clothes when she stepped inside, grateful she hadn’t tried to cram her massive harpy form through the door. They’d already had to repair doorframe twice from this mistake. At least Hooty wasn’t there to get on her nerves.

Throwing down her burdens of cold-weather gear, camping supplies, and responsibility—the mere thought of it almost made her break out in hives—she was immediately struck by the silence of the house. The controlled chaos that she fostered in her humble abode was nowhere to be seen. Had things really changed so drastically in the two days she’d been gone? What if—? The terrible possibilities began to tug at her mind, and it took everything in her power to keep them at bay. She’d grown so used to danger and strife that this new, stable life was still very much an adjustment.

“King?” She called into the dark house. No answer. No matter; it was late, well past his bedtime. She tried again. “Raine? Hello???”

She received a distant little chirp in response. Fiddlesticks, Raine’s palisman, bolted down the stairs as fast as lightning and leapt on Eda’s shoulder, startling Owlbert off of his perch, before running across to the other side and down her arm. Eda snatched the wild palisman in mid-air by pure luck and held the wily thing, kicking and squirming, in her arms fondly.

“Gotcha! Ooh, someone’s got the zoomies,” she said in a sing-songy voice, relieved to see that there was still some chaos in the house after all. Owlbert, on the other hand, hooted disapprovingly, resettling in his spot. The little fox twisted her head this way and that, trying to look back at him, tongue lolling out of her mouth happily.

“Alright, silly girl, chill out,” Eda chuckled. “Where’s Rainestorm?”

Loosening her grip, she let Fiddlesticks slither from her grasp. She bounded back toward the stairs as soon as she hit the floor, chittering beckoningly as she went. Eda followed after her, shaking her head in amusement and shushing her, lest she wake all of Bonesborough with her noise.

On the landing, Eda noticed that the door to her room was slightly ajar, and a soft glow emanated from within. She sighed in relief, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Fiddlesticks, without losing any momentum, flung herself through the door, yipping and making all kinds of racket in spite of Eda’s warnings.

Laughing to herself, Eda pushed the door open all the way, to find the most touching sight she’d ever seen. Raine and King laid in the nest, wrapped together in a blanket, a huge and impossibly old book between them. King was fast asleep, head nestled in Raine’s lap, while Raine was just barely awake, complaining as Fiddlesticks nipped at their ear insistently. As quietly as she could, Eda tiptoed into the room. Nudging the palisman out of the way, Eda pressed her own lips against their ear.

“Boo,” she whispered, causing them to start awake.

“Ah! Oh, Eda, you’re here,” they said, a drowsy drawl in their voice and a little smile that made her heart melt. “Welcome home, baby.”

They were truly irresistible. Eda sat down the edge of the nest and accepted the kiss they offered her.

“What have you two been up to?” She asked, reaching across Raine to stroke King’s fur, who hardly stirred at her touch, aside from the slight rumble of a purr beneath her fingers.

“Reading,” they replied, pulling the book closer. “All this Titan stuff was really stressing him out. To be honest, I don’t even know where to even start, but we had a good time learning together.”

“Ugh, I told Lily not to give him this yet,” Eda said, frowning at the illustration of a roaring Titan on the cover. “I know he wants answers, but he deserves to be a kid without having to worry about all this.”

Raine shrugged, flipping through the fragile pages. “I think not knowing has been stressing him out more, but all of this information is too overwhelming to take in alone, let alone all at once.” They looked at King before leveling their gaze on Eda. “He really missed you.”

“Aw, jeez. I wasn’t gone that long,” she sighed. “Do you think anything…new happened?”

“He didn’t say.”

Eda accepted this, at least for the time being. When the time was right, she would sit down with him and have a real heart-to-heart with him, Titan to harpy. It was situations like this—the love and care, the worry, the frustration—that made this whole “mom” thing sink in. King wasn’t just kid; he was her kid, her little baby, and his uncertain existence as a Titan did nothing to change that in her eyes. She realized that it had always been this way, from the moment she brought him home that fateful night, but she hadn’t dared to acknowledge it until years later.

She shook King gently until he finally began to stir, muttering something indiscernible in his sleep. A second later, he cracked open an eye, before suddenly springing to life. “Eda!” he cried, flinging himself into her arms.

“Hey, buddy,” she replied, “you miss me that much?”

He simply nodded, burying his face against her shoulder. Eda hugged him closer, nuzzling her cheek against his skull.

“Aw, well, I missed you, too.” And that was true enough.

Gingerly, Eda climbed over Raine’s lap, King balanced against her shoulder, and settled more comfortably beside them. She’d get cleaned up later, but for the time being, she was wiped and in need of some family time.

#the owl house #my writing #raine whispers #eda clawthorne #raeda #king clawthorne #decided to post this directly on tumblr as well #seeing as I posted the first one on here

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dragonandtiger · 9 months

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Dreaming To Reality: Oneiromancy Chapter Thirty One - 11

“Is it… because he’s my partner…?” Ryo murmured to himself.

“Hm?” Zeed blinked and tilted his head quizzically. “What was that, Beloved?”

The Chosen of Miracles furrowed his brow. It made sense, in that context - not just his current behavior but his past behavior as well. It would only make sense for Zeed to save Ryo after Neemon nearly killed him, as the boy’s death meant Zeed’s death as well. Surely Zeed would have known that? Was his rescue just a calculated effort of self-preservation? It certainly would fit far better than any other explanation.

“Is it because… you’re my partner?” Ryo repeated, louder this time. The tone was almost accusing, and in a way it was. He was half-expecting an outright confirmation, or some other lengthy and self-aggrandizing response.

What he didn’t expect was the look of absolute confusion on Zeed’s face, the lack of recognition or comprehension at the question - at least first. Then, the Digimon’s eyes widened in shock and realization seconds before a blush spread across his face. He lifted his hands to cup his cheeks, as if trying to hide the redness that had formed, as his mouth shifted to a giggly smile.

“G-goodness, Beloved, you are certainly forward when you want to be, aren’t you?” Zeed said as he fidgeted slightly in place. “But that’s just one of the many things I love about you, you’re just so full of wonderful surprises~!”

Ryo blinked once, twice, and then a third time as he stared at Zeed, wordlessly.

“I-I mean, I suppose it’s only natural that you’d offer me the position,” Zeed said, lowering his right hand to wave it beckoningly. “It’s been empty for so long, I’ve noticed… and you keep shifting between Digimon, each more temporary than the last. Clearly, none of them have really met your needs, and certainly haven’t been able to earn a permanent position. And how could they?” He clasped his hands together at that. “A special Chosen needs a special partner! Not some random alley cat, a pig-kappa in a belly warmer, a walking fire hazard, a big-handed broom buffoon, or…” He paused as his face twisted in a scowl, glancing towards the agape door as if looking for something - or someone - in particular. “...Whatever that useless thing is that’s currently stalking you.”

Ryo glanced at the door instinctively at the mention of Monodramon before turning his attention back to Zeed. “What…?”

“I’m saying, Beloved, that you certainly could do worse than choosing me for your partner,” Zeed said, with a tilt of his head and a small flutter of his eyelashes. “And you certainly couldn’t do better.”

#Dreaming To Reality #oneiromancy #digimon #Digimon Adventure 02 #digimon adventure

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 2 years

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vampy feeds bb whatever he’s been cooking just to see if she likes it, if it needs more salt or whatever. it’s so simple yet so domestic and cute i fucking hate them i’m gonna kill my self

He grabs a metal spoon, dips it into the pot, and stretches his hand towards her beckoningly, poking her lips playfully with the utensil. “Taste.”

Y/N’s lashes flutter as the flavorful sauce works it’s way across her tongue, making her belly throb warmly. “It’s good!”

“Does it need anything else? More salt? Paprika? Your face is saying it needs more paprika.”

“It’s perfect, H. Promise.”

“Y’sure?” Harry retracts the spoon from her mouth, tapping it against her Cupid’s bow expectantly. His right eyebrow slinks upwards humorously, and the left corner of his mouth copies the action. “You don’t have to spare my ego with this; I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

“It doesn’t need anything else.” Y/N reassures him, glancing down at where the silverware is bouncing against the crescent above her lips, which slowly curves upwards with a smile— a direct result of his usual antics. “I swear.”

Harry sighs in surrender, though when he speaks, his voice still carries traces of the skepticism from before. “Alright. As long as you like it, that’s all that matters.”

“I love it.”

“Then I guess I love it, too.” He states with finality, lifting the spoon from her mouth and gradually situating it over the tip of her nose, carefully releasing it and humming in childish satisfaction when the steel remains stuck to her skin. “I’m curious to see how long you can last with that on.”

Y/N’s eyes glint deviously. “I’ve heard that one before.”

Harry’s own go half-lidded at her crude remark, but he can’t resist the dirty smirk that buckles his dimples into place. “Slag.”

“Look who’s talking.”

#ysijwa!ask #ysijwa!blurb

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direwombat · 1 year

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tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton on this wip wednesday 💕

tagging @adelaidedrubman, @detectivelokis, @strangefable, @strafethesesinners, @fourlittleseedlings, @deputyash, @harmonyowl, @kittiofdoom, @baldurrs, @poetikat, @aceghosts, @confidentandgood, @purplehairsecretlair, @inafieldofdaisies, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @roofgeese, @passinoutpieces, @gaeadene, and anyone else wanting to share something they've made! No pressure as always and if we're moots and I didn't tag you 1) I'm so sorry and 2) please consider yourself tagged as well lemme see what you're working on

Anyway, been knee deep in plotting kneeling at the crossroads recently so i haven't really written much, but here's a recycled bit from fragile creatures chapter 8 (pay no mind that ch 6 still isnt finished and neither is ch 7) that i posted last week (but not as a wip wednesday) ♻️♻️♻️

Slowly, Jacob lifts his hands and turns around to face his attacker. She stands only a few yards away, her rifle trained on him. “Tell me, Deputy,” he drawls, not bothering to hide the way his eyes rake over her form, and enjoying just how good she looks wearing his jacket. Her posture is tense, as if bracing for the shot she hasn’t even fired yet. But her finger is on the guard, not the trigger. She isn’t going to shoot him, “Was it luck or skill that you found me?”

The Deputy’s face twitches, her nose scrunching in a way that might have been cute on anyone else. She keeps her rifle pointed at his chest. “What’s it matter,” she sneers. “You’re the one in my crosshairs.”

“It matters,” he starts, taking a single step towards her. Testing. Taunting. Her feet remain planted where they are, but she flinches and curls back, ever so slightly. Barely perceptible, but just enough to get a smile to stretch across his lips. “Because luck runs out.”

He takes another step forward, this time more confidently. And just as he thought, she takes one step back to maintain her distance.

Unfortunately for her, the log she’s in front of doesn’t move with her. Her calf makes contact with it and her eyes go wide. But at that point, it’s too late. Her upper body keeps moving backwards. Then down. She falls back, and just before gravity finishes the job, Jacob surges forward, snatching the gun from her hands.

She lands gracelessly on her back amidst the pine and fallen leaves. The wind is pushed from her lungs in an audible “oof” that’s followed by a creaking wheeze.

And just to pour a little more salt in the wound, Jacob points the barrel of her own gun in her face. “Skill doesn’t.”

If she had put an ounce of effort into applying the murderous look reddening her face, he’d be dead a thousand times over. His smile widens.

Lowering the weapon, he extends his arm, holding out his right hand for her.

The Deputy stares at it for a long moment, her jaw clenching and lips twitching. “What the Hell are you playing at?” she asks suspiciously.

“I was enjoying a nice hunt,” he says. “You were the one who came in wanting to play games.”

She rolls her eyes. “Can’t imagine what that’s like,” she deadpans.

“There ain’t nothing nice about how you hunt, sweetheart,” Jacob snorts. He curls his fingers beckoningly. “C’mon. Get up.”

The Deputy makes a low sound in her throat, something akin to a growl, but it isn’t directed at him. Her hand thrusts out to grasp his, and for just a moment he braces himself in case she tries to get clever and drag him down to her.

But she doesn’t.

Her hand wraps around his own, gripping it far more firmly than he had anticipated. He helps haul her to her feet, and she looks pissed off about it the entire time.

She takes a moment to brush herself off, pointedly not looking at him while she does. “I suppose it’d be too much to ask for my gun back,” she says, glaring up at him.

He looks thoughtfully at the rifle, making a show of considering a decision he’s already made. With a shrug, he holds her weapon out. “I’ve already got one,” he says, adjusting the shoulder strap of his MBP .50. Then, more seriously, he adds, “You really need to clean that thing.”

“You’re a dick,” she mutters, snatching her gun from his hands.

#wip wednesday #wip: fragile creatures #the best part about this is that jacob uses no actual skill during his 'luck or skill' spiel #he just kind of goes 'boo' and it works

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