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sensitiveheartless · 3 months

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Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.

~*~

Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.

Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.

His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.

Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.

Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.

Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.

And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.

In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.

In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.

Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.

For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.

Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.

As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.

Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.

“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”

Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.

“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”

Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.

“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.

Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.

…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.

“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”

Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.

One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.

Nothing happened.

Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.

His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.

It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.

After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.

When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.

His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.

At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.

“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”

“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”

“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”

Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”

There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.

It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.

“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”

That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.

After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.

“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.

“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.

“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”

Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”

“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.

“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.

“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.

“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”

Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.

“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.

“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”

Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”

“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”

Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”

Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”

Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”

Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff.

Hiding again, Chuuya thought.

For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.

Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.

But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.

Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.

And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.

Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.

“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”

That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.

“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”

“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.

“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.

“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”

Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”

That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.

Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.

All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”

Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.

He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.

“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”

Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”

Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.

Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.

“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.

Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”

“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”

“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”

There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.

He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.

“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.

Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”

Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.

Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.

And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.

So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”

Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”

Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.

And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.

The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.

“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”

A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”

At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”

A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”

“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”

#...possibly I should also put this on ao3 for ease of reading #do I know what I'm doing? nope #no thoughts only vibing #but anyway I hope this was an enjoyable explanation of the Creature in the horrors comic!#'A Face Like Glass' is a book I absolutely adore by Frances Hardinge :D It's got a lot of mind-bending concepts in it!#so it seemed like a fun thing to turn into a bsd oc monster #can you believe this started as an attempt to give Chuuya hugs lol #technically succeeded! but at what cost #the horrors comic #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #soukoku #skk #senhart's writing

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cauliflowercounty · 3 months

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Knives Dance (Part II)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

Summary: You and your father address your people to quell the seeds of unrest on Youra. Realizing the resolute dedication of your people, Baron Vladimir begins to conspire against you and your homeworld, something you and Feyd will not take lying down when you put a plan of your own in motion.

Warnings: visceral imagery, more death, reader goes a little mental

Word Count: 6.0k

Part I | Part II | Part III

Breaking your kiss reluctantly, Feyd looks around at the twenty some odd soldiers you’ve both just killed, exhilaration and admiration for you still coursing through his veins. “I’m sorry to do this, but I must ask something of you, Feyd,” you say, looking down at both of your garments saturated in blood.

“Anything,” he responds without a second thought. He knows he means it.

“You must not let anyone know what I showed you or that I was fighting alongside you tonight.” You walk over and pick up your second blade that Feyd tossed away, strapping it back to your thigh along with the other one. Next, you collect Ozran’s knife and hand it to Feyd. It’s light and flimsy in his grasp compared to your daggers, truly a laughable excuse for a murder weapon. An animal being killed for supper deserves to be killed by a better blade than this. You fasten your cloak back onto your person, and it consumes your body again, making it seem as if you hadn’t just butchered half the dead around you. “These are my best kept secrets. You must say that it was you who killed all of our attackers.”

“Of course,” he replies, and you press a soft kiss on his lips in thanks. As soon as he leans in to kiss you back, approaching footsteps become audible. It’s your father, the baron, and a fleet of Youran guards with their weapons drawn.

“Let’s give them a little show, shall we?” you whisper against his lips. As soon as they come into view, Feyd feels you fall into his arms, spotting delicate tears collecting on lower lashes. He brings his arms around you, cradling your figure as you sink to the ground and begin quaking in his embrace, which makes his heart twinge.

Your father calls out to you, aghast as he spots the dead bodies surrounding you and Feyd. The look on your father’s face is as if he’s worried you might turn to dust. He kneels beside you, taking you out of Feyd’s arms and into his own. “We heard commotion from the castle and came as quickly as we could. Are you injured, my darling child? What happened?”

“F-Father, I am alright, ” you quiver, breath shaky as you lean into him. “It was so scary, though! Na-Baron and I were on a nighttime stroll, and suddenly a poisoned dart flew out of nowhere and nearly hit me. When we looked over to see where it came from, Ozran was approaching us with a wild look in his eyes.” You’re sobbing into your Father’s chest at this point, tear stains soaking into your father’s clothes, and Feyd cannot help but be impressed by your theatrics. “Ozran said he was unhappy with our dealings with House Harkonnen. He meant to kill us to make a point, but Na-Baron courageously disarmed Ozran and struck him down. As soon as that happened, Ozran’s loyalists began to strike, but they were no match for Na-Baron.”

Hearing those words, Feyd sees his uncle lift his chin up in pride, delighting in the thought of Feyd emerging victorious over twenty, killing in cold blood. Your father lets out a sigh of relief, pulling you closer in his arms as he holds the back of your head. “It’s alright, y/n. You are still alive, and Ozran cannot hurt you any longer,” he whispers before looking up to Feyd. “Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. I am most grateful. Thank you for saving my daughter from those criminals. I am in your debt.”

Feyd sees his Uncle’s eyes glimmer with excitement. Your father shouldn’t have said that. His uncle never passed up an opportunity to prey on those indebted to the Harkonnens. Before, Feyd also enjoyed the manipulation of other peoples, but now that his uncle has his sights set on you, a growing sense of unease begins to build, and he can’t bring himself to look at his uncle.

“It was my honor to fight for your daughter tonight,” Feyd replies. “I am glad I was here to protect her life, and I would do the same again.”

Your father brings you to your feet, your cloak still concealing your stained battle gear underneath. You bring the back of your hand up to wipe away your tears, letting out a meek sniffle. Feyd keeps trying to remind himself that what you’re doing is just and act, a way of protecting your secrets from his devious uncle, but Feyd’s chest continues to ache seeing you cry. If he had his way, nothing would make you shed a tear ever again.

“If there were this many attackers tonight, that means we have unrest on our hands. There are sure to be more of them.” your father says, turning to one of the soldiers. “Call the citizens to the castle, and prepare the thrones.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the guard says, turning on his heel and hurrying away, and Feyd watches as he disappears.

“I do hope this does not mean the marriage will be called off,” Baron Vladimir interjects with a leading stare at your father. Your father shakes his head straight away.

“Of course not, Baron. I value our alliance. We will handle our people. I assure you, the marriage will happen on Giedi Prime,” your father says as the sound of a horn reverberates across the island nation. “Would you be present for the address tonight?”

His uncle obliges, and the guards guide everyone through the winding hallways. After a few minutes, they exit the fortress through another set of doors, and the group emerges onto an enormous stone platform overlooking an open basin lined with towering columns. Two grand thrones stand in the middle of the platform: one for you and one for your father. Instead of stone like their surroundings, they’re made of thick, twisty branches of a rich, dark wood that have grown into the shape of chairs. It’s almost as if these chairs were borne out of the very nature on the island.

Feyd looks down to the land below the platform. People are quickly gathering below at a remarkable rate. He sees citizens emerging from all directions from the surrounding mountain range. Multiple cable cars whose lines stretch from inside the forest to the basin approach. Light shines outward from the compartments, and Feyd sees they’re positively filled with people. When the cars meet the ground, the stained glass doors open and people flow out and into the crowd while others run across the wooden bridges out from under the trees.

Your father beckons all of you forward once the crowd has amassed. When you and your father come into the people’s view, there is a roar of cheers. Feyd sees people start to raise their hands and clap for you as the crowd begins a melodic chanting of “House Ronen! House Ronen!” The way they rally for their leaders is earnest and true, a sight to behold.

You take a seat at your throne as your father does. You gesture to Feyd to come stand behind your chair and the baron floats beside your father’s throne. When the crowd spots the Harkonnens, some of the cheers turn to murmurs, which rumble through the group as more people begin to whisper to one another. Your father raises his palm to the people, and they fall silent.

“Thank you, my dear friends, for coming at this hour. I would not have called you if I didn’t think it was important,” your father’s voice booms. “We have something very important to tell you tonight."

He gestures over to you and you rise from your seat and step forward, once again holding your cape closed. The armed guards advance on the sidelines, holding their weapons at their sides to protect you. You pause and gaze out at your people before centering yourself, holding your head high with poise appropriate for a lady of your stature.

“I would like to echo my father’s thanks for your time and presence,” you begin, your voice collected and commanding. “Not an hour ago, there was an attempt at my life at the Pools of Ashora.” A wave of disbelief propagates through the crowd. Some cup their hand to their mouths and others begin to whisper to their neighbors. A few let out roars of anger, but Feyd swears he sees a few snigger at the news.

“Twenty men led by researcher Ozran Neyru ambushed me and Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen tonight. As you can see, the endeavor to end my life was unsuccessful. During the attack, Ozran told me he and the others were motivated because of my upcoming marriage to Na-Baron Harkonnen, that their belief is I am betraying our ideals by allowing the House of Harkonnen into our circle. I do not doubt there are others that feel the same as him, and I have come to offer you an explanation, which I feel you all deserve.”

There are nods through the crowd. Some seem undeniably compelled with your speech while others cross their arms with skepticism. You glance over to your father, gestures with his hand for you to proceed.

“I have lived on Youra all of my life. It is my homeland, and a place I care deeply for. When I was seven, I drank from the sacred pool on top of our great mountain, and when I was sixteen, I had my own Rite like each of you. I know what being Youran is because I have lived it from the moment I took my first breath. I’ve grown up knowing our stories and our traditions, and I love the society we’ve been able to build.

“Looking out upon you tonight under the glow of the lanterns, I think of the tale of Zeyred, who was the first to release lanterns at nighttime to guide the souls of our departed to their final destination amongst the stars after he mistook a shooting star for the soul of his dead mother. Zeyred used what he thought was the truth and created a wonderful tradition in order to help loved ones on their final journey. Since then, we have left behind the notion that souls go to the stars once life is over, but we still release lanterns every night to pay our respect for him and the Yourans of his time. It reminds ourselves of where we come from.”

Feyd sees an air of nostalgia wash over the crowd and a few clutch their hearts, admiration growing in their eyes as you recount the traditional Youran folktale.

“This practice of using truth for the betterment of others is ancient, but it still remains the lifeblood of Youra today. By seeking truth in our collective research, we’ve developed elixirs that have eliminated diseases that have historically killed many. We’ve found ways to protect our crops from failure. We’ve made advances in engineering to improve our ships and travel around our planet and beyond, broadening our quest for knowledge. By following truth, our quality of life on Youra has improved because of the choices our predecessors have made more than any of us alive today will ever know or appreciate. We’ve found countless ways of providing for and protecting others.” Mumbles of agreement echo from below. Some nod their heads to one another. The citizenry is certainly taking to your argument, and Feyd is in awe of your eloquence and composure.

“Tonight, I have witnessed an undeniable truth: the prowess of House Harkonnen. I have seen strength, valor, and loyalty in Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, without whom I would not be standing here in front of you. As a woman of Youra, I put my faith in what is real, which is why I am putting my faith in the House of Harkonnen.

“This union is not a departure from our ideals. If anything, it is a commitment to them. It is my way of protecting you. It will strengthen our society by putting us under the wing of the greatest major house and those we care for is simply getting a little larger. I have made this decision for the betterment of all of us. I ask you to join me in the celebration of this union when I depart for Giedi Prime.”

The crowd erupts in cheers as you let out gasp in amazement at the overwhelming support by your people. Even the soldiers around you raise their weapons to the sky in support. You bow to your nation, thanking them for their time. Some of the people in the crowd begin to chant Feyd’s name, thanking him for saving their beloved Lady, which catches him by surprise. Your father claps at your address, and Feyd joins him in applause, commending your efforts.

The people are dismissed and the Youran soldiers guide Feyd and the others back into the castle. As the group is safely indoors, you grasp one of Feyd’s hands on your own and press a kiss on his closest cheek and lean in to whisper “Thank you, Feyd.”

As you pull back, you and your father bow to the Harkonnens before you return to your quarters, still encircled by guards. Watching you disappear behind a corridor, Feyd notices his heart longing for your company. He thinks of the way you two moved in perfect sync during your fight. The fiery look in your eyes during the battle was thrilling to behold. His mind lingers on you as he reminisces about the feeling he had of bolts of lightning shooting through his veins when you kissed him. Just as soon as he's entranced, he’s ripped out of his fantasy by his uncle’s fingers clenched around his shoulder.

“Come,” his uncle orders, and Feyd follows as they return to the guest wing of the fortress. The walk to the guest wing is eerily silent. All that can be heard is footsteps and the gentle whirring and occasional clicks that come from his uncle’s medical contraptions. His uncle beckons him into his own quarters after the guards bid them goodnight. The baron floats into the room while instructing Feyd to close the door behind him.

This guest suite is an exact replica of the one Feyd is staying in. The walls are covered in painstakingly crafted tapestries and the furniture is made of a red-brown wood with a bold grain that looks like billows of smoke. An entire wall is a floor to ceiling window that leads to a balcony which overlooks the ocean. The soft reflection of the moonlight from the water’s surface streams through the window, illuminating half of the baron’s face in a stark white light while the other is cast in a sinister shadow. His uncle calls Feyd closer, and he obeys.

“Well done, Feyd,” is the first thing his uncle says to him in a low voice. “The Yourans may still be outside, so we must be quiet.” Feyd nods to his uncle in understanding as he notices his uncle’s unbridled grin, the one he only has when he’s plotted something truly heinous. “The Yourans are weaker than I ever imagined. I knew they were a society of wisdom, but I never expected them to leave themselves so… vulnerable.” The baron’s eyes are now ablaze with savagery. Saying the words out loud has lit the flames of cruelty that burns in his soul. “The fact that you killed twenty of them in the time between us hearing the attack and arriving in the courtyard single handedly is a true testament to their sheer mediocrity. I shall reward you when we are back on Giedi Prime. How about another mistress this time? I will ensure she’s properly broken for you.”

I don’t want your praise. I don’t want your gifts, Old Man, Feyd thinks, resisting the urge to grab ahold of his uncle’s neck, strangle him, and feel his trachea shatter under his thumbs.

“I was originally frustrated at you, Feyd. I wondered why you simply didn’t allow them to kill her, but you’ve done well, despite your lack of foresight. We will not have to take the planet by force. Now we have a way to win over the people of Youra, and they will soon be ours. Lady Ronen is foolish. She thinks their principles will keep them safe, but their dedication to their values will be their downfall.”

Feyd conceals his clenched fist from his uncle’s view as he collects himself. He must not be rash. Instead, he suppresses his emotions, and he asks his uncle “What are you proposing?”

“We take her to Giedi Prime, and once the marriage is sealed, I want you to kill her.” Those words make Feyd’s blood run cold. Kill you? After everything that’s happened? After the fear of losing you had already struck his heart once today? Feyd will not allow it. “We shall tell them it was natural.” The Baron continues with a venomous tone. “…and that it was her dying wish for her people to honor our alliance.” The baron grins, bearing his inky, black teeth. Frightening images of your dead body crumpled on the glossy black floors of Giedi Prime flash in Feyd’s mind with your beautiful eyes blank and unseeing, which makes his head begin to spin. “You saw how they rallied around her tonight. They are so dedicated to her that they will honor her wishes even in death. The planet Youra will be ours, Feyd. We will take the bounty of their work to Arrakis where we will kill Muad'dib, and the House of Harkonnen will emerge victorious.”

With that, the baron shoos his nephew out of the room. On the other side of the door, Feyd balls his fists and clenches his teeth so tightly it’s a wonder they haven’t cracked under the pressure. Instead of returning to his quarters, he walks through the corridors of the palace straight to yours, trying to hold his breath steady as the bile within him threatens to pour over. Outside of your room, there are armed guards keeping watch over the entrance. One knocks at the door when he requests to see you and slips inside once you permit the guard entrance.

Moments later, you emerge at the door. You’ve cleaned up since he last saw you and you’re no longer in your cloak and battle gear. Instead, you wear a light, flowy nightdress that hugs your waist and reflects the moonlight exquisitely. You reach out to Feyd and bring his hands together near your chest. Feyd’s heart skips and you raise yourself up on your toes to kiss him in earnest. He sighs into the softness of your lips. Having you so close and being graced by your touch is one of the greatest privileges he has ever received. As you break away, there’s a look of concern on your face.

“Would you like to come inside?” you ask him softly and he nods. As soon as he enters, you close the door and lock it behind you. He lets out a frustrated hiss, finally able to express his frustration as he sits down in an armchair chair and rests his elbows on his thighs. He his head in his hands in frustration. “What’s wrong, Feyd?”

“My uncle is plotting. He wishes for me to murder you after we wed. He thinks you weak and your people impressionable,” Feyd seethes, closing his eyes and running his hands along the back of his neck. “I couldn’t ever bring myself to do that to you, but I know my uncle. If I don’t do it, he will have someone who doesn't care for you like I do carry out the deed instead. He plans to take control of your planet and your people when you are gone.”

For the first time in years, Feyd feels like he’s on the verge of tears, something that the baron had him beaten for until his bones shattered when Feyd was a child. He has only just found you. You’ve begun to heal his heart and put the light back in his eyes. You’ve shown him unwarranted kindness and let him bask in your affections. You’ve given him someone to fight for, and just as soon as he’s found his salvation in you, it’s about to be taken from him. Bringing your thumb up to his cheek, you wipe the small droplet that threatens to spill over away.

“Do not worry, my love,” you whisper to him, taking the opportunity to gently nuzzle his neck, and he sinks into your embrace. “Please dry your eyes.”

“We have to get rid of him. We need a plan,” Feyd says with conviction, and you nod. As he looks up at you, his worries seem to fade when he senses your fortitude. You support his cheek with your delicate touch and stare into his eyes. Behind your irises he sees a glint of devilishness.

“I know of a way, Feyd. We’ll silence Baron Vladimir, and in the end, we will install you as the ruler of Giedi Prime. You will be Feyd-Rautha, Baron of the House of Harkonnen.”

–

The people of Youra come to see you off in droves as you depart for the wedding. Everyone is dressed in their very best as they watch you precess toward the Harkonnen vessel accompanied by your father, the baron, and your bodyguards. Some parents have brought their children to catch a glimpse of you as you depart, the young Yourans perched on their parents’ shoulders to get a better view of you. You wave to them, and the children smile excitedly when you acknowledge them. Feyd marvels at your people's continued love and affection for you as he offers his arm to you. The Baron glances over to Feyd as the citizens cheer for you, nearly drooling at the prospect of dominating this society. Feyd looks away from his uncle as you take his arm, his determination rising. He will not permit his uncle’s scheme to go to fruition.

Under Giedi Prime’s black sun, the wedding proceeds as planned by Baron Vladimir. The entirety of Giedi Prime’s populace gathers to watch the union of Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha and the Lady of House Ronen. You wed each other in front of the crowd for all to see, wearing Harkonnen garb next to the baron and your father. Feyd cannot look away from you. You are beautiful in every way. The dress seems to hang delightfully on every curve of your physique. The long sleeves that extend just beyond your wrists conform to the shape of your arms perfectly. The rectangular cutout filled with sheer mesh placed perfectly over your breastbone is something Feyd cannot help but stare at. The splendor is so befitting of your stature, and all he can think of is him and his Baroness ruling Giedi Prime together one day.

You and Feyd each receive a necklace of dark stone plates from his uncle, marking your marriage. Feyd grasps your body firmly as he kisses you, his mind consumed with you and you alone as he cups your waist. You are finally his to have and to hold, and how wonderful that is to him. The crowd chants for Feyd when he raises your intertwined fingers for the crowd to see. The people exalt him, and the baron smiles from the sidelines as the alliance is sealed.

During the celebratory banquet, you and Feyd make careful effort to keep you away from the baron, lest he has other plans for you. The night goes on, the fireworks inky in the air and Harkonnen music playing to the late hours. As the lights fade and the diplomats go home, you bid your father goodbye, promising you will return to Youra soon. As his ship disappears into the night, Feyd comes to stand next to you. It’s almost time. You’ve been summoned to the baron’s personal chambers. You and Feyd walk in silence to the baron’s room through the empty halls. Outside the door that separates the two of you and the baron, there are no guards.

“It’s a trap,” you mouth to Feyd, careful to not make any noise. He gives you the smallest nod in agreement. Luring his victims into a false sense of security is something the baron always loved to do. Once they thought they were safe, the baron would turn their relief into agony and despair, relishing the emotional differential, torturing them until they begged for death after which he would oblige. Luckily, you and Feyd both know better, and you’ve come prepared.

Together, you both press one of your palms on one of the double doors and push them open. The room is inky black inside, only lit by horizontal strips of lighting. In the center sits the baron in a tub of viscous black sludge. Proceeding slowly, Feyd sees you mark every object in the room, creating a mental log for yourself. Nobody else is in the room. It’s just the baron in his tub.

“Welcome Feyd and Na-Baroness,” the baron says, taking a puff from his pipe as he leans backward in his tub. You both approach him, but are careful to distance yourself from the tub. “I wanted to congratulate you both on your marriage. Our people seem quite enthralled with you, na-Baroness,” the baron comments before clicking his tongue and taking another huff. “I- We wanted to present you with a gift to welcome you to our House.”

The Baron gestures for Feyd to come closer, and he obeys as the baron extends his arm to gesture at a black box that sits near the edge of his tub. The Baron raps his fingers on the box once as his eyes maliciously dart between it and Feyd. Feyd knows what this box is. Inside are his poisoned knives. As Feyd looks at the box, he can hear his uncle’s voice from the night on Youra in his mind: “Kill her!”

Looking back toward the doorway, two Harkonnen soldiers, armed with the barbs they use to subdue slaves in gladiatorial fights, have silently entered the room with their weapons drawn. Their stances are wide. When they step, they shift side to side, using the outside edge of their feet to make their footsteps barely audible. They approach you from behind, but Feyd knows you’ve already sensed them when your eyes narrow and your spine straightens as you moderate your breathing.

“Now!” the baron bellows to the soldiers, who throw their hooks at you, aiming for your shoulders. With the greatest of ease, you duck downward, allowing the prongs to soar over your head and clatter on the floor at the base of the tub. You grasp the lines the soldiers are holding in your hands. Standing back up, you twirl and swing one of your legs up and around the lines attached to the barbs. Using your foot as a hook, you force the lines downward and towards yourself, and the men topple over in their place as the lines are tugged toward you. They yell out in shock.

Feyd sees his uncle’s face contort in horror as he is frozen and at a loss for words. Clearly none of the three were expecting any resistance from you to be successful. You yank the ends of the barbs toward you and wrap your hands around the long rods. Dashing toward the entrance of the room, you make contact with one of them, killing them with a single blow before they have a chance to react. The other one whimpers in fear, watching his comrade fall before attempting to scramble back to the entrance on his hands and knees.

“FEYD, DO SOMETHING!” the baron hisses as you strike down the other who only makes it a few feet before your weapon collides with the back of his neck. The second barbman falls to the ground, motionless. Feyd opens up the case and takes his knives out, holding them steady at his side. As he approaches you, Feyd’s eyes flicker to the side toward where the baron lays in his vat of ooze, directing you to bring the fight closer to his uncle. Your gaze intensifies, and you lower your stance, using the sharp edge of each barb to cut the lines away.

“Let’s dance, my dear husband,” you coo at him as you raise your weapons and rush at each other. The shrill sound of metal clashing fills the air. You both know each other’s moves now. As one attacks, the other easily parries, neither one of you coming close to inflicting real harm. Feyd feels the tingling of excitement in his soul. Fighting with you before was exhilarating on Youra, but this is something else. He can finally see your beauty in all its glory. The way your body contorts like an acrobat as you dodge and counter flawlessly. How your brow furrows when you take on one of his blows with impeccable form is a sight to behold. You are nothing short of a miracle.

From the tub, the baron bellows, “Kill her, NOW!” You and Feyd continue, circling around the tub so that you come closer to the baron. With a signal to Feyd and one swift move, you knock baron’s hand closest to his control panel away, preventing him from calling for help. The Baron gasps in surprise. You couldn’t have known that’s where the controls are unless you were told. The realization dawns on him too late; he feels the sting of Feyd’s blade on his neck. He looks up at his nephew in horror.

Feyd drops his other knife and uses his free hand to force his uncle’s mouth open. The Baron chokes and gasps as the nephew he has groomed into a ruthless monster turns on him. The Baron tries to tell Feyd to unhand him as a desperate last effort as he struggles in the tub, but Feyd’s grip on his uncle is unwavering and only gets rougher. Feyd’s mind is ablaze. This is his revenge for plotting to kill you and for a lifetime of abuse at his hand.

In the past, Feyd revered his uncle, admired his iron grip on Giedi Prime, and thought that the baron was what he should aspire to be, but Feyd sees the truth now, looking down at his uncle writing in his grasp to no avail. His uncle is and always has been pathetic. It takes all the strength Feyd has in himself not to crack his Uncle’s neck right there. Feyd quells his impulsiveness. The plan must proceed as you arranged.

You approach from behind and stick two fingers in the baron’s mouth, stretching his cheek out as far as it will go. The baron whimpers as he spies something stirring under your sleeves. It circles down your arms and out from under the black fabric. It’s a black centipede with thick, glossy armor. It must be half the length of your arm, and the baron’s eyes quiver as it crawls onto the back of your hand and into his gaping maw. He chokes as the legs scuttle and scratch at his tongue. The creature forces itself down his esophagus. The baron feels the creature thrash, and he can almost hear the chitin armor clicking against itself from within him as he chokes on it.

“Don’t move,” you tell the baron with a dark smile. The baron’s fear is thick and palatable in the air. “She won’t like it if her host moves too much.” You remove your fingers from his mouth and recoil at his saliva. “What shall I have her do first? Maybe I’ll have her paralyze your vocal chords so you don’t go blabbing to anyone?” Your victim looks at you in desperation, but you tisk at him before letting out a rhythmic series of clicks through your teeth. The Baron feels the head of the creature wriggle inside of him back up into his throat. The Baron coughs. Gasping out in pain, he feels a searing pinch. Then the inside of his throat begins to burn. The centipede has clenched its jagged pincers around the inside of his throat. “Isn’t she so well trained, Baron?”

You lean down to the baron and hold his head in your hands so that you’re looking directly into his eyes, which are bloodshot and tearful. “You pitiful man, you thought you could kill me?” you whisper to him as he tries to call for help, but no comprehensible sound comes out. “Let me tell you a secret: I am more than the damsel in distress you think I am. I fought alongside Feyd that night. I even killed half of them. You shouldn’t have underestimated me or my people. We may be caretakers, but once those we love are threatened, we will not rest until we have our revenge. Now, you shall die a slow, painful, unceremonious death alone in a hot vat of black slime for your arrogance.”

You and Feyd release the baron from your grip. Allowing his body to sink against the edge of the tub. The baron sputters, as he begins to convulse. The venom is beginning to take hold. Soon it will affect his whole nervous system and shut down his body entirely. You and Feyd leave him there to rot as you deal with the bodies of the barbmen. In the early morning before anyone is awake, you collect the centipede from the baron in his tub. His body is twitching ever so slightly, but there is no hope for him. You hide the creature in your dress again, whispering small praises for a job well done and leave the room.

By midday, the Harkonnen attendants are growing concerned that they have not heard from the baron, a servant opens up the doors to the baron’s chambers, finding him lifeless in his tub with empty eyes staring up at the ceiling with a single tear stain on his cheek. The top doctors on Giedi Prime are brought in to perform an autopsy. They say he died of natural causes, unable to identify any trace of the centipede's presence.

The news spreads quickly about the baron’s passing, and you and Feyd put on a brave face for House Harkonnen. The funeral procession is quickly organized. The people of Giedi Prime hang their heads, mourning the sudden loss of their dear leader as you and Feyd precess through the city alongside the coffin to put the baron in his final resting place. Feyd makes a speech, praising his uncle for his leadership, secretly relishing his death.

You put up large flags with the baron’s face on it throughout the land, shrouding the architecture in even more dark fabrics, hang a portrait of him next to the other past Harkonnen leaders in the hallway, and order a monument to be built in his honor. Nobody suspects a thing.

A month after the death of Vladimir Harkonnen, you and Feyd stand in front of the citizens of Giedi Prime in your best clothes again as one of the Harkonnen advisors announce your new titles: Baron and Baroness Harkonnen. The crowd chants for the both of you with zeal, grateful to have leaders again.

The next morning, Feyd smiles as he opens his eyes and sees you sleeping peacefully, your head resting on his chest as you unconsciously run your fingers over his muscles. He hopes you’re dreaming of him because you were most certainly the subject of all of his fantasies last night. He tilts his head down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. He knows his next job is dealing with the Fremen attacks on Arrakis now that he is Baron Harkonnen. Instead of concerning himself with that, he chooses to close his eyes again and pulls you in closer. That job can wait. For now, all his thoughts are consumed by you as they should be.

Thanks for reading!

Part III OUT NOW!

Taglist:

@austinbutlerslovers

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #dune part two #dune movie #x reader #cauliflowercounty #feyd x reader #feyd x you

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princessbrunette · 7 months

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hyperfem! reader w jj pleaseee

writing them in lil bullet points cos it’s easier to format hehehee 🎀

• swatching makeup on his arm in the store when you’re tryna find the right shade and he’s just all like “baby. how do you know i’m not like — super allergic to the ingredients in this thing. do you know how many chemicals go into makeu- infact, lemme see- no i’ll give it back i just wanna read what it says— trust me! i saw this video on instagram reels—” and he’s fighting the foundation bottle out of your hand so he can read the small print on the back listing the ingredients even though he has no idea what he’s talking about.

• he’s got beef with the plushies on your bed. unfortunately. “so this is the guy you get all cozy with when i’m not here?” he’s laying on his back on your pink frilly bedsheets tossing the plushie between his hands like a football. “guy? jayje that’s obviously hello kitty.” you pout, kneeling on the bed to take her away. when you place her back on the sheets he catches your wrists and pulls you down so that you fall on top of him with a quiet yelp. “agh, there you are. get in here.” he’s grinning, wriggling to make space for you.

• enticing you into joining the group on their wild pogue adventures. “babe, i literally got you a pink life jacket so you can come out with us on the boat— don’t make that face at me.” he standing on the pier clutching the neon pink life jacket in one hand, the rest of the pogues waiting on the boat, staring at you happy as clams with hopeful grins. “jj i don’t need a life jacket.” you frown, letting him help you up onto the pier by the hand. “uh— yes y’do. i’m dragging you into our shit, i’m gonna make sure you’re safe alright? now come here.” he’s manhandling you in that thoughtless jj way so he can fasten your life jacket on you even though no one else is wearing one. princess treatment, of course.

• when you and the pogues inevitably get yourself into shit, running from sirens down a street of a town you’ve never visit before, jj is constantly pulling you along and making sure you don’t fall behind. “come on baby, move your ass!” he yells, and you rip yourself free of his grasp when you come across a puddle— the rest of the groups continuing through, splashing across to the other side. “jj, these are my favourite shoes!” you whine. he slams to a halt, opening his mouth to argue but seeing the police car round the corner before he can. he simply grabs you and either throws you over his shoulder and carries on running (hes a strong boy) or straight up yanks the shoes off his feet and puts them on your feet as fast as humanely possible.

• forever fascinated by the lengths you go to in your beauty routines. enjoys watching you carefully apply a face mask in the mirror whilst he sits on your bed, eyes jumping around to the girly decor in your room. you’re nothing like him, and he wonders sometimes what you even see in him. his hands are rough from ropes and climbing things he shouldn’t, his hair is often matted and unclean from the ocean, whilst you were soft all over and always smelling like a bakery. that not to say you didn’t try and involve him, atleast smearing spf on his face whilst sat on the boat together, batting away his fussy hands. “jj, you’re in the sun just unprotected all day… y’gonna age like milk.” you mutter, rubbing it into his cheek as he squints one eye closed. “i’m white n’blonde. you can’t fight the inevitable, babe.” he moves his face away, wiping his cheek on the back of his hand.

• sometimes lets you paint his nails if he’s bored and wants an excuse to watch you close up, all cute and concentrated, his smile growing even when you tsk at him, lips pouted and brows creased. “you moved!” you accuse quietly, grabbing his hand and holding it still. he’s not looking at his nails, hell— he couldn’t even tell you what colour they’re being painted, staring at your pretty face instead. “my bad, gorgeous.” he smirks, watching the way your eyes flick up to his, blinking away the flustered feeling.

• like i said, princess treatment. makes you cream around his fingers, hand stuffed into the waistband of your delicate pink panties whilst he paws greedily at your tit. “whats a pretty girl like you doin’ with me huh? jesus, you cum so much baby. fuckin’ love it.” he whispers, dick hard against your thigh as you whine.

• loves when you initiate, watching JJ sat at a table, maps and other crumpled up artefacts you didn’t understand scattered about as he spins his cap around to face backwards, concentrated and serious as he reads. you know it’s important to him, but he’s been at it all day and there comes a point where you just want his attention again. which of course, is how you end up straddling one of his thighs, panting and whimpering into his neck as he tries to concentrate on the maps and not your grinding on him. “jayge, just miss you…” you mewl nonsensically, tired and infuriatingly horny on his lap. he cups your lower back, pressing a distracted kiss to your temple (with a raging hard on) “doin’ good, baby. lemme finish this up n’im all yours, needy girl.”

• thinks you look adorable leaving lipstick/lipgloss prints on his cock. he strokes your head with a lazy smirk, watching your brows furrow slightly as you bury your kissy face against his shaft, pulling back to admire your work. “pretty.” you mumble to yourself and he chuckles. “you’re damn right.”

• notices when there’s something new about you. new hairstyle? he’s approaching you and holding you gently by the face so he can get a proper look at you. new dress? best believe you’re hearing “alright, do a spin for papa J, that’s it pretty lady.” with that shit eating grin of his. he’s just that attentive.

#jj maybank prompt #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut

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slytherinsallows · 6 months

Text

Smutmas Day 2!

I actually read the prompt right this time! Out of all @little-emerald-snake prompts this one was the one I was most excited to write 🥵 Enjoy!

“It’s my thigh or nothing. Im not helping you.”

// Dom Seb

Mc was practically frothing at the mouth for Sebastian by the time the last bell rang. It didn’t help that all through lunch he was gently stroking her thigh under the table, letting his fingers wander up to her panties yet denying her of the satisfaction and trailing back down her leg again. She’d had enough of the boy. She’d never met such a tease in all her life, he was just… something else…

She knew he was going to the library to do some independent studying this evening and she was determined to surprise him when he came back. She ran to his dorm and used alohamora on his lock, jumping on his bed, ready for him to come back so she could start pleading to him to finish her.

Wild thoughts ran through her mind as she tossed and turned in his bed, her ears finally perking up as she heard a rummaging outside the door.

She heard that familiar dark voice muffled through the door.

“That’s weird…”

She covered her mouth to stop herself from making any noises as he unlocked the door and entered the room.

“Who’s there?” Sebastian asked cautiously, before turning the lights on.

Mc stayed silent, a little worried he’d be angry at her now or better yet mistake her for a burglar or something and hit her.

He flicked a lamp on, looking to his bed and smirking.

“Oh so we have a little theif here it seems?” He purrs as he approaches her slowly, dropping his bag down by the door.

Mc’s cheeks turned pink at his accusation, shaking her head softly.

“I’m horny Seb.” She said, big doe eyes looking up at him pleadingly, hoping that would be enough to seduce him. But much to her annoyance, Sebastian could be patient, when he wanted to.

“Are you now?” He raises an eyebrow as he sits on the bed, taking off his tie.

“I don’t think that’s an excuse for breaking into another students dorm though, is it?” He teases her.

“What would the prefects say?”

“Please Seb. No…” She said, scooting back on the bed until she hit the headboard.

“Tell you what.” He pats his clothed thigh looking into her eyes.

“It’s my thigh or nothing. I’m not helping you.”

Mc’s face goes into a pout at his offer, clearly upset he wasn’t just gonna take her after all he’d put her through today.

“But!-“

“No buts. You use this or you go without, love.” He smirks devilishly, knowing how much this was eating at her. He shuffled onto the bed properly, Mc still sat upright in protest.

He lies there smirking at her for literal seconds before she caves in, taking any scraps she can get, wholeheartedly wrapped around his finger at this point, and he knew it. He loved to abuse this power he had.

She swiftly removes her top and skirt, revealing her lacey pink bra and panties to his observant eyes. “You’re still wet from earlier. Good girl. It’ll make this easier for you.”He smirked, earning him an eye roll from the girl.

She straddled his thigh, moaning as her clit briefly brushed against the fabric. Sebastian watched her, smirk still painted on his lips, enjoying every second of the show.

She begins grinding on his thigh, desperately trying to create friction between it and her sex, whimpering at the lack of satisfaction it gave her.

“Look how pathetic you are baby. Humping my thigh like this. You’re desperate for me hm?” He raises an eyebrow, teasing her through her agony.

She nods rapidly, giving into what he wants to see, high pitched moans escaping her lips as she rubbed on it faster. Sebastian had fantasised about this for months now, seeing her a complete mess just for him, her grasping at the sheets as she can only use his thigh for pleasure, crying out his name. It could make him cum untouched.

Mc readjusted, straddling him backwards, giving the boy an amazing view of her ass as she grinded on his leg. Sebastian crossed his arms behind his head, taking in the view. He was always more of an ass guy, and Mcs was his weakness, seeing it bounce on his thigh like that and the slither of her pussy hidden by her soaked panties… he was tempting himself to just take the poor girl now.

“Take the panties off love, you’ll be able to feel more.” He instructed, Mc looking back at him hearing his voice.

“So now you care about my needs?” She groaned, doing as he said, finally able to feel some friction.

“Mm don’t get bratty now. You were doing well.” He stated, knowing it would just make her angrier. Mc but her lip and tried to ignore him, turning back around to face him, her legs planted on either side of his right thigh. He leaned into her, nibbling at her neck, provoking a hitched moan in her throat as he worked her bra off. “Sebastian.” She panted softly as he threw her bra on the floor, taking her nipple into her mouth and rolling it between his teeth. “S-Stop… I’ll cum really fast.” She whined, struggling to talk as his head rummaged between her breasts, his hand roaming her thighs.

“What a shame. Then you’ll just be longing for the real thing then won’t you?” He says between kissing her down breasts. “Should teach you for breaking into my room at night.” He smirks deviously.

“Seb I’m serious… fuck” she cries, eyes scrunched tight as she rides his thigh, gliding her clit over the bump of his knee, finally on the edge of some pleasure. “Cum for me baby, cum on my thigh like a good slut” He orders, pawing his insanely hard member as he watches her movements get more and more desperate.

Sebastian covers her mouth to stop her from screaming as she gets there, letting her bite his hand as her walls clench around nothing.

“Good girl, good girl.” He soothes as she cums on his thigh, her cheeks pink and hair messy. She shakily climbs off his thigh, noticing a small wet patch of cum stained his trousers.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself love” he teases, eyeing her wetness.

“Oh shut it sallow…”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis x reader #garreth weasley smut #sebastian sallow smut #ominis gaunt smut

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ivystoryweaver · 11 months

Text

Based on this request from @steven-grants-world "I haven't even touched you and you're already wet" with Poe ❤

Content: NSFW, 18+, Poe Dameron x f!reader, more below the cut

Word count: 1.7k

Contains: fingering, sort of thigh riding, shenanigans in public, not beta'd

You had the absolute most massive crush on Commander Dameron. It was more than a crush, really - you wanted him. No, scratch that - you needed him.

Every single thing about this man drove you to absolute distraction. In a meeting? A stray curl would tumble across his forehead. Training exercises? Just bossy and sassy enough to drive you wild. Hand-to-hand combat and sparring practice? The strain of his thick thighs against his slightly too-tight pants made you want to trap him in a storage room somewhere and use that thigh to relieve a little pressure between your legs.

He was in your closest circle of friends, so you were tormented by him day and night.

His mouth - the curve of his perfect, full lips as they wrapped around koyo fruit - the way the tip of his tongue would swipe away its juices...

The smug curl in the corner of his mouth when he was amused. The crinkles lining the sides of his burnt umber eyes when he laughed - which was often.

Everyone found Poe easy to love but you needed him desperately.

It became a daily chore to keep from staring at him - although, by this point, you were sure he'd caught you more than once. The infamous curl of his lips and a quick wink definitely communicated something. You just weren't sure what.

And he did flirt with you. He flirted with everyone, in a way, but he sat beside you to eat, bumped your shoulder after telling a joke, and again - he winked. All the time.

Tonight was the culmination of months of torture and you weren't sure how you were going to make it. Because tonight, Poe made a rare appearance in his officer's uniform. The drab neutrals somehow highlighted the gorgeous browns in his eyes and curls.

Everyone was dressed a little nicer than usual, enjoying a rare celebration due to a recent victory. Poe was to receive some sort of honor - hence the uniform. You arrived a little late, having fussed with your appearance far longer than usual.

Hoping to slip in unnoticed, you failed miserably at this task when you ran right into the one person you hoped to avoid - at least for a little while, since being around him when he looked so distinguished and handsome would likely make you fall on your face doing something embarrassing.

"Hey," he laughed out, reaching to steady you by grasping your elbows. "There you are - I was waiting for you."

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him up close - the heat of his fingers burning through your own uniform. "F-for me?" You gasped, gripping his forearms to steady yourself.

"Yeah, everybody's here. I was on my way to get some drinks," he told you with a grin. "Wanna help?"

"Uh, s-sure," you nodded, grateful for a distracting task that would keep your hands occupied and your eyes facing forward and not on your commander.

"Come on, it's crowded in here." Brushing past you, he reached for your hand, leading you through a sea of Resistance fighters - each one wanting a moment of his time, or at least his attention.

Despite the thrill electrifying your body as his strong hand enveloped yours, it didn't take you long to lose him in the crowd.

Noticing this immediately, Poe excused himself from the latest person distracting him to call your name.

"There you are. I thought I lost you," he said, his eyes twinkling with something that looked like relief.

"No, I'm here," you assured him, thrilled to have his attention. What you wouldn't give to have ten minutes alone with this man.

"Come here." Once again, he set off, reaching for your hand, but this time, he didn't stop until you made your way outside.

"Commander Dameron, what are we - "

Glancing back at you, his fingers now tangled with yours, he granted you his trademark smirk. "Poe, please. We've known each other long enough. Haven't we?"

The question seemed rhetorical as he led you behind the building, to a secluded alleyway.

"Sorry it's dark out here," he apologized, finally stopping and turning to face you. His hands landed on his hips as he studied you carefully. "Is it okay if I talk to you for a minute?"

Your heart flamed with desire and nervous anticipation. If you didn't control yourself, you might jump him.

"Are you mad at me?" He pressed on. "Because you've been a little different. Yesterday, after our sparring session..."

He went on to recount his version of events after having pinned you to the ground with your head locked between this thick thighs.

"I know I'm hard on you..."

Maker.

He carried on, speaking to you in Commander fashion, but now your mind was filled with thoughts of his thighs and his hand on yours and watching his mouth move. The moonlight shone down, highlighting the contours of his handsome face and before you were able to stop yourself, you silenced his hypothesizing by pressing your lips against his open mouth...

...the force of which knocked Poe back a step in utter surprise.

The two of you stopped, transfixed. Poe was impressed because that was a move he would pull. But you? You were mortified.

"Oh...no, Maker. I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Commander, please don't - "

"Did you just kiss me?" He gasped, one dark eyebrow shooting up in amused curiosity. But he knew the answer. He could see it all over your adorable, flustered, face - could feel the burn of your fervent gaze.

"I...Commander, I - "

"Poe," he corrected, wetting his lips as he closed the space between you. "You kissed me."

"Poe, I'm sorry," you stammered, your body aflame with embarrassment and desire - the two battling to make you combust.

"I'm not," he breathed, sliding one arm around your waist as his lips covered your own. He licked hotly into your mouth, gripping your hips to pull you flush against the breadth of his chest.

You whimpered into his mouth, your body wilting into his touch as he pushed you up against the nearest wall. Your head hit the solid stone with a bit of a thud, but that didn't slow him down.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he groaned against your ear, his hands drifting to new territory. A line was being crossed and if you were uncomfortable, he wanted to be sure...

"Don't stop," you panted as his delicious thigh found its way between the spread of your legs. This was quite literally the stuff of your fantasies.

Reaching blindly for his shoulders, to try to somehow steady yourself, you actually moaned just from the feel of his solid muscle pressing right up against your core.

"Baby, why didn't you just say something?" He roughly whispered, toying with the fastening point of your trousers. "I would have done this so long ago."

The whine that worked its way out of your throat as he caught your eye should have been embarrassing. "Can I?"

With a breathless nod, you tried not to make any more humiliating noises as he worked your pants open, sliding his hand inside to cup your soft mound.

"Fuck," he groaned, dragging one long finger over the soft cotton of your panties. "I haven't even touched you and you're already wet. This is for me?"

"All the damn time," you gasped, squirming against his palm to try and force the friction for which you were so desperate.

"Shit, baby," he hissed, his hot breath falling on your ear as his body caged you in. As his fingertips dragged your panties aside, you gripped his biceps for support, hardly able to believe this was really happening.

"I thought this was all in my head. I thought it was only me," he groaned, teasing your folds with frustrating efficiency. "But you're soaked."

You cried out as those tempting fingers eased their way inside. Pushing in deep with a slight curl, Poe beckoned your whole body forward, silencing your whine with the heat of his tongue. His fingers swirled, fingertips massaging the deep core of you - the languid thrust of his tongue inside your mouth synching with the plunging inside you. The slight stretch of it set you on fire.

His muscled thigh came up under his arm, pushing it in deeper and giving you support to fuck yourself down over his hand.

"That's right, baby, take what you need," he groaned, mouthing a trail to the sensitive spot just under your ear.

You felt wild and desired and a little scandalous for doing this in a public area - anyone could walk up and see you, but you didn't care. This scenario had played itself out in your own bed, with your own fingers, a dozen times at least.

"Poe," you whined, grasping the sleeves of his uniform - the very suit you were likely ruining. "Poe, please..."

He growled your name right back, doing the best he could in this position to rut against you too. "You know how long I've waited to hear you say my name like that?"

He didn't give you time to answer - instead pushing his thumb over your swollen bundle of nerves, sending your back arching wildly off the wall as the most desperate cry pushed past your lips.

"Love the sounds you make for me, baby, doing so good." His fingers worked you furiously, catching your little gasps and whimpers in his open mouth, breathing hotly right along with you as you fell apart for him.

The rocking motion of your hips stilled as your hot core coated his hand with your juices. He kissed you again, easing his fingers out of you, leaving you to sigh in overwhelming relief.

"Is this what you're thinking about when we're sparring?" He teased, easing back to grant you that cocky smirk.

"Mm...yes," you lazily nodded, your chest heaving as you came down from the greatest pleasure you'd ever felt. "And you, Commander?" You challenged right back. "Is this what you're thinking about when we're sparring?"

Pulling his bottom lip temptingly between his teeth, he gripped your hips, dragging you against his obvious arousal. "All the damn time."

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witheredoffherwitch · 2 months

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Not here to start anything but did you not reach out to the person who was the victim of racism here to see her opinion on it? Because she's been quite vocal and clear that things with Em are patched.

Hi nonnie,

I am taking your ask because this ABSOLUTELY needs to be addressed. Your question is a prime example of why I made that post in the first place. So many of you are completely missing the point: this is not just about "fanfic drama" between two people anymore. The main post that detailed all the leaked text messages is WILD to me, because while they revealed some nasty mean girl behaviour from some, it also showed a blatant display of participation and encouragement in bullying, harassment, and racism from everyone involved. And yet, the most disturbing part is the reaction from your community. It's beyond baffling atp!

To answer your question in a nutshell, I joined this fandom after all that drama went down. When those texts came out, I was honestly confused and had to reach out to my own desi community to figure out what was going on. Turns out at the time, Shruie mentioned getting racist attacks but Bel had everyone convinced she was lying - and since Shruie was a considerably smaller blog, she was ostracized and her concerns were brushed off as mere ploy to get attention and sympathy. And now, with the recent revelation of Bel's use of rat emojis, do you see why that part is crucial here? Can you grasp why even the slightest knowledge of Bel's despicable behaviour is significant here? And, do you comprehend how the lack of condemnation only perpetuates a culture of racist hatred towards this person of colour? It's time to confront and acknowledge these issues head-on.

This drama happened back in July of LAST YEAR (?) and now it's being leaked? And you expect us to just forgive and forget because they made up with one person involved? Sorry, I'm not buying it. They only reached out to the victim because they had a falling out with the main perpetrator. If they truly take responsibility for their actions, then GOOD! But excuse me for being wary of this community who will coddle these grown ass women to tell them repeatedly how they are an “integral part of this fandom” or how they “meant well” while making these mistakes over and over again.

Some of us don't see this as just a petty fanfic squabble anymore. And if you still don't see it, then I don't expect you ever will. Your biases blind you - and frankly, I no longer have any interest in trying to make you see. This ain't my first rodeo with people who want to jump on the anti-racism train but are actually part of the problem. My post was meant to call out the toxic behavior that has gone unchecked for too long. Grace, @the-heartlines said it perfectly, so I'm linking her post here for those who need it spelled out more eloquently. This isn't about the fanfic community - because let's be real, I'm not even a part of it. You're all too focused on maintaining your little popularity contests and chasing upvotes to see how your own biases affect your actions. My words are for the rest of the fandom, who can see through the facade and finally speak out against this BS.

#anon asks #hotd fandom #fandom racism #fandom bs #fandom drama

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scoops-aboy86 · 5 months

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what about a little office au? no upside down, maybe still in hawkins, steve in his parents abandoned house or maybe he’s just outside a city, with robin. and steve’s been at the job a few years, he’s a little stuck maybe. he’s definitely bored, but it’s fine, he’s just bored.

and then eddie joins his floor and steve can’t take his eyes off of him, he’s so interesting. and pretty. even if his top button is never done and his tie is always a little loose.

and then they do talk a little and eddie’s nice, he’s funny and goofy and steve knows he said a couple embarrassing replies to the guy due to his nerves but eddie has just laughed and gone along with it. it was so nice.

so steve decides he needs to talk to him more and needs an excuse to. so he bakes cupcakes, knowing his recipe is good and knowing he could work out a way to get eddie to take a break with him to have one.

the day he brings them in he leaves them in the kitchenette with a little note reading ‘help yourself!’ and steve just tries to get some work done without thinking about eddie too much, planning on talking to him later. but at around 11 eddie himself appears at his desk with a cupcake on a napkin, offering it to steve with such a sweet smile that steve just doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they’re his cupcakes. instead he says thanks and starts eating it, says ‘it’s good!’ even though he knows they’re good because steve ate three last night because they wouldn’t fit in the tupperware. but maybe it’s not so bad, because eddie lingers until he finishes it, says he’s planning on grabbing one at lunch, asks steve about his weekend plans and it seems so genuine and lovely that steve forgets all about the original cupcake plan.

instead, steve tries again the next week, this time with cookies. but the same thing happens, eddie beats him to it, walking over at around 11 with three stacked neatly in a napkin, offering them to steve and saying the same thing about getting one later. steve again saying nothing about spending all sunday making them. (the first batch came out so wonky however that he was too embarrassed to take them in, instead making a brand new lot and maybe making his way through the dud ones that night, half a gallon of whole milk to dunk them in). but eddie stays and they talk again, steve finishing all three large chocolate filled cookies without even realising it. his plan failing again but he manages a much better one, asking if he can sit with eddie at lunch and getting another smile (this one with dimples) and a ‘i’d like that’. he gets to see eddie try and seem to really like his cookies, so steve brings a small stack over for them to share. steve not realising till he back at his desk that he was the one who ended up eating them, eddie only had like one and a half.

and maybe steve keeps spending his sundays baking, spending mondays with eddie, eventually finding out eddie doesn’t really have a sweet tooth at all. but by that point steve definitely does…

(This got a little long, so buckle up.)

Oooh, yes. I’m thinking the suburbs somewhere, and he has a little bit of a commute into the office. It’s a job that a monkey could do but, well, he’s being paid to be that monkey. By the end of the day he just wants to get home and do anything that he actually wants to do, which tends to be prioritized by the path of least resistance. He’s generally gotten more sedentary on weeknights, watching movies and ordering takeout with Robin so neither of them have to cook.

And then here’s this guy that was just assigned to the cubicle across from Steve’s who is just captivating, all wild hair and quirky grins and an apparently poor grasp of how to tie a tie, and Steve is just… losing his mind a little bit. He starts waking up actually wanting to go to work, kind of? But at the same time his concentration on anything while he’s there is totally shot. Every time he hears Eddie’s voice he’s immediately distracted, wishing the words were directed at him even though it’s usually boring work shit.

At first, Eddie isn’t too talkative around the office. But maybe that’s just the distraction of settling into a new place, new job, new routine—because after a couple of weeks, Steve starts hearing him all the time. And, of course, Eddie comes over to introduce himself, a little sheepish that it’s taken him this long when they’re basically within each other’s line of sight for eight hours straight, nine of they both stay at their desks during lunch. Steve, who has had to restrain himself from openly staring ever since a few hours into Eddie’s first day, manages to answer Eddie’s nice to meet you with a mortifying “I’m nice to meet,” but Eddie just laughs like he’s told a funny joke and they move on. Which is great! And also, Steve wants to wrap himself up in Eddie’s laugh and live there forever.

Very quickly, Steve decides he needs to talk to him more. Maybe impress him with something. Which… He doesn’t really know Eddie, or what might impress him. Most of Steve’s strengths in the past have tended towards athletics, but there aren’t many opportunities to showcase that in an office. After racking his brain for a few days, he ends up cracking the single cookbook his kitchen has to offer, because people bring donuts for the break room all the time. Why not do something like that? Maybe he can get Eddie to take a break with him to have one, and if he likes them maybe Steve can let slip that he made them…

So Steve blows off his usual jogging routine and spends his entire weekend in the kitchen. For most of Saturday he does test batches on the cupcake recipe in the back of the book because he wants to make sure he does this right. (And his first try coming out of the oven weirdly flat might be a factor, just maybe.) Sunday is reserved for decorating, after a morning of hitting the local cooking store for some things. He practices on the duds (read: did not meet his own probably high standards for impressing Eddie) first, and finds he kind of likes it. By the end of the day he has them looking just like in the picture beside the recipe, neatly swirled piping and sprinkles and all.

On Monday, when Eddie comes by and offers Steve one of his own cupcakes “before they’re all snatched up” and a wink, oh my god… Steve’s brain flatlines and for some reason he eats the cupcake frosting first, just licking it right off the top like it’s some sort of ice cream cone, like an idiot. But Eddie is nice enough not to comment. In fact, he wheels his desk chair over and eats the sandwich he brought from home in the middle of Steve’s “doorway,” making his way through a sandwich while Steve finishes the cupcake, his own lunch, and…

Okay, so, meanwhile, Eddie is absolutely beside himself over how hot this guy is. This job was a last resort, an it’s-this-or-eviction choice after trying to make it with his band didn’t quite pan out, but he’s starting to appreciate it for the perks. And Steve keeps wanting to talk! To him! So when he’d seen those cupcakes in the break room, he knew that bringing Steve one would be a great excuse to drop by right around the lunching hour. The whole… frosting thing kind of makes his brain short out from excessive horniness, that tongue and those lips should be illegal probably. Sometimes Steve gets really into the conversation and is excited enough to talk with his mouth full, which is endearing as hell—and who knew such a clean-cut guy would know anything about d&d, let alone be interested in hearing about some of his old campaigns? (Apparently there were these kids Steve used to babysit and still keeps in touch with, and they’ve been playing forever.) Eddie is enjoying himself so much that he bounces back into the break room for one more cupcake. “It was the last one, you have it,” he says, presenting it to Steve. It is totally not a ploy to watch him eat more. (Yes it is. And it works.)

Next week, it’s cookies. Eddie figures that three cookies are an equivalent offering to one cupcake, and he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth so he lets Steve eat most of them. Again they have lunch together in Steve’s cubicle, and again Eddie fetches more baked goods for dessert, because, “It’s a Monday, man. Gotta brighten it up somehow.” And then shows Steve his tattoo of Garfield smoking a blunt.

If Steve hadn’t already been sitting down, the revelation that Eddie has tattoos would’ve taken him out at the knees. And they’re not all that cartoony—the wyvern and the puppetmaster are both cool designs, and he thinks the simple bat silhouettes are cute. Not as cute as Eddie’s dimples, which are another thing that make Steve grateful for his trusty desk chair.

This goes on for a while. Steve gets another cookbook, this one devoted entirely to desserts, and makes his way through it page by page. He finds that he really likes baking, actually, and it’s nice to have a hobby again. It’s just… they’re getting more elaborate, and increasingly impractical to bring for sharing around the office. He knows the cheesecake is pushing it, and it’s over a slice that they’re nominally sharing but he’s absently made his way through most of that he finally gets up the nerve to ask Eddie if he’d like to hang out after work sometime.

And this leads to the first time Steve sees Eddie outside of his work clothes. Hair even wilder than usual, metal band tee and a leather jacket over tight black jeans and boots. Meanwhile, Steve has… maybe miscalculated a bit, because all that baking (or, really, the eating of it) is starting to show. And he doesn’t go out all that much, not since his wild party days during high school, so his selection of non-work clothes isn’t exactly robust. But he thinks he did okay with his yellow sweater and jeans, even if the latter are a little tight at his thighs and middle. No one’s going to notice, right?

Eddie notices. He barely keeps from stammering as he joins Steve at the bar, covering it up with a hasty suggestion that they buy each other a drink they think they’d like. Steve orders Eddie some sort of beer, but Eddie, who used to take the odd bartending gig here and there, orders Steve a creamy looking drink that tastes exactly like a boozy, melted vanilla milkshake. “It’s called a Screaming Orgasm,” he explains with a smirk. “Kahlua, amaretto, vodka, Bailey’s, and heavy cream.” He leans in close and murmurs in Steve’s ear while he’s taking his next sip, “The vodka makes it scream.” They end up closing down the bar, not overdoing it on the drinks (thanks in part to the snacks Eddie keeps ordering and Steve keeps absentmindedly powering through throughout their nonstop conversation) but staying out pretty late for a work day, and one thing leads to another, and… they both end up calling out sick the next morning, cozied up together in Steve’s apartment.

When they eventually roll out of bed, Eddie sees and starts flipping thorough the cookbooks in the kitchen while Steve makes coffee. A lot of the pictures look familiar and he starts to grin. Turning and seeing what he’s looking at, Steve blushes because oops, busted.

But Eddie turns to the next page past the cheesecake and taps the recipe for molten chocolate cakes. “Can you make this?”

“For… breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Eddie, who isn’t much of a breakfast person any more than he has a sweet tooth, eyes Steve and licks his lips. “We’re already playing hooky, let’s break all the rules.”

Steve ends up making the lava cakes with little protest. And maybe he ends up eating most of them, but he’s proud of how they turned out! Perfect on the first try, fluffy on the outside and gooey on the inside, and he separated the eggs without breaking any yokes, which is always worth celebrating.

Besides, Eddie enjoys them greatly all the same, scooting two kitchen chairs so close together that he’s practically on Steve’s lap while chocolate-flavored stealing kisses between bites. The serious sweet tooth that Steve has developed lately is in heaven.

Cut to another few months later, and Steve has already developed a much healthier work-life balance. Sometimes he still clocks out and has a movies and takeout night with Robin; sometimes Eddie joins them, getting along with Robin so well that they sometimes gang up on Steve (affectionately); sometimes it’s a date night, which about half the time means a baking night, too. It’s nice to have a partner in the kitchen, and they work well together.

At their day job, sweet treats still show up in their floor’s break room every Monday like clockwork. Some of their coworkers have caught on to who brings them, and a few have gone out of their way to assure Steve (particularly after he started experimenting with flakey pastries) that if he ever quits to open his own bakery they’ll be his first and most loyal customers. It’s… a thought. Steve has secretly been looking into what all he’d have to do to pull that off, though he hasn’t made any decisions yet. Maybe when the arms of his trusty desk chair start cutting into his sides, the way they’re starting to threaten to, he’ll get serious about it.

So yeah, treats in the break room every Monday. And there are treats packed in Steve’s lunches every other day of the weekday too, just for him and Eddie to enjoy at one or the other of their desks. Steve still eats most of them, but he’s also been experimenting with savory hand pies and Eddie puts up more of a fight for those.

One weekend, Eddie coaxes Steve to dress up in the clothes he wore for their sort-of-accidental first date, and they barely fit anymore.

Steve would be embarrassed by how many tries it takes and how much he has to suck in to get the jeans buttoned, let alone all the jumping and shimmying he’d had to do to get them up his thighs, except Eddie is on him immediately. Feeling around the waistband, his hands sliding into his back pockets with a squeeze, rings pressing into Steve’s ass through the straining denim, then slipping back out to tug the sweater down and tight over Steve’s belly, (which as per usual is stuffed with Steve’s own sweet cooking).

“It suits you,” Eddie all but purrs, and it’s hard not to preen when being groped and spoken to like that. “Is any of that peach cobbler still left?”

Lunchtime is close enough that Steve’s stomach gives an eager little grumble at the thought, and yeah, he could go for some of that right now.

With a chuckle, Eddie goes to grab a familiar Tupperware out of the fridge and a fork from the silverware drawer. He doesn’t bother with a plate, and follows Steve to the couch only to settle himself on his lap, first bite already ready to go and teasing at Steve’s lips.

“Still can’t believe you let me seduce you with your own cooking, sweetheart,” he says, watching the other man’s mouth close around the forkful with wide, dark eyes. Their next kiss is fruity, buttery, sweet. “Mmm. Can’t believe you learned to bake because of me.”

“Yeah, because I got nothing out of that,” Steve replies with a chuckle, patting and then rubbing a hand in slow circles over his belly, coyly letting it ride up a little to see if Eddie reacts.

He does; he always does. Eddie is transfixed by the crescent moon of skin this reveals, distracted for once from Steve’s lips as he feeds him the next bite. (This also works when Steve really wants to make a case for rewatching The Breakfast Club for the millionth time.)

So yeah, Steve is pretty happy with his life these days. He’s also pretty sure he’s in love with this man who still for the life of him cannot tie a tie properly. He’ll probably tell Eddie soon, even.

For now, he enjoys his mouthful of cobbler and lapful of boyfriend, and spreads his legs a little with a contented sigh as his ill-fitting jeans grow ever tighter.

#scoops words #ask #hotluncheddie #chubby steve harrington #office wg au #wg steddie #look at me replying to this at 1am my time 😂#all hail the weekend

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blackopals-world · 2 years

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I find Vil x Yuu/MC so good because it’s literally like

“Do you know who I am?!”

And with all the brutal honesty of your mom in the dressing room, Yuu just says: “No”

That sounds fun I could work with that if you don't mind my personal touch.

"Hey! Pretty boy, stay out of my garden!"

~Vil x Gardener!femYuu~

Vil had been searching high and low for a certain plant needed for his potion but luck was not on his side. The greenhouse was picked clean and there was no appropriate substitute.

The more wooded areas of campus would probably have a strand of it. Vil asked Rook and the hunter pointed towards where the old abandoned dorm was located. Many wild plants had made their home there.

To Vil's surprise he found a rather lush garden of vegetables and flowers. In it he found the plant he was looking for, fresh rampion.

The beautiful purple bellflower with the perfect leaves to make salve.

Vil guessed to owner wouldn't miss it as they wouldn't need it and what use would it be to stay here without purpose.

That is what he believed. Unfortunately, it was not shared as a fat tomato came flying to hit him in the face. The juicy fruit left a mess on him and his clothes.

"Theif! How dare you!" A voice yelled over the garden

Standing in the row of tomatoes was a girl on the shorter side with cheeks as red as her fruit.

"How dare yo-" Vil started as he wiped the tomato pulp from his eyes but was quickly silenced.

"How dare I?! How dare you!" She put her hands on her hips as she raised her voice "You have some nerve pretty boy to take from my garden! It's bad enough to have those Savanaclaw brats snatching my catnip and herbs! Now it's Pomefiore's boys stealing."

The girl was clearly fed up and before Vil could say a word he was snatched up by the ear. Despite the clear height difference she easily dragged Vil away as he indignantly tried to protest.

"Excuse me! If you-OW- listen to me!" Vil tried to escape her grasp but she was strong and her grip was like iron.

"I don't listen to thieves." She stated as she dragged him across campus back to the Pomefiore dorms. "I'm taking you to your housewarden and having him deal with you. I'm going easy on you just this once."

"Don't you know who I am?! I'm Vil Schoenheit! Pomefiore's housewarden!" Vil felt the crazed gardener's grip go slack for a moment only to tighten even harder.

"That makes it worse! How dare you try and steal from me as a housewarden! So you think you can push me around?!" The irrate girl glared daggers into him. "I don't care who you are! I don't want to see you in my garden again."

With that she let go of him and stormed off.

Vil returned to his dorm bewildered and speechless. Rook appeared shortly thereafter and mentioned something important.

"There is this girl that stays in the old dorm. Very feisty and strong as an ox. She is as sweet as a little dove though and bakes great blueberry pie. I've had the pleasure of trying some. As long as you don't go messing with her plants she's like honeycomb." Rook sang her praises as Vil rubbed his sore ear.

True to his word the girl "Yuu" was as soft a butterfly wing on a normal day as she flitted about in her garden.

Vil didn't know whether to hate her or not. He wanted to look down on her for her loosely tied hair, dirt covered hands, and red burnt face. The way she stood after being hunched over her garden beds and streched her back from the labor made her beasts look enticing as sweat fell down her chest. He had to hold back his blush.

"She was a nothing more then a work horse" he tried to convince himself. "Wholely unfitting to be called a woman."

Shame was a powerful motivator.

She was completely unconcerned with him on the other hand. Epel had become her companion in the field when they had time after classes. Often times he'd stay over for dinner and take back leftovers much to Vil's ire.

Jealousy burning in him. She had such a soft side for them but to him she paid no mind. She smiled sweetly to them. She coddled them. She made wreaths of flowers for them. Laughed, soothed, cheered for, and adored other them but not him. Never him.

Yet, she still cared. She still would save treats for him. She may not let him have free range of her garden just still gave him anything he needed from it. She would still get him and not avoid him.

But swallow his pride he must if he wanted something from her. If he wanted her attention he didn't have it. She had little need for a useless pretty boy. Rook could hunt, Epel could farm but what could Vil offer her? His looks? His fame? What could she do with that?

He tried offering her a beauty treatment to her but she shot him down.

"Something like that would be wasted on me. I don't need to look like a beauty queen anyways, even if I could." Yuu said taking her basket of gardening tools inside and promptly closed the door.

Vil's heart ached hearing her say this. Someone like her was worth more then the most flawless diamond. She was like a million diamonds glittering in the sky with the strength to match.

Surely, he could do something for her, and prove his worth.

Vil shook his head. He couldn't believe he was thinking this. He found himself unworthy of her when it should be the other way around. He once considered himself above all others as he rightfully should, but now he is clamoring to be this woman's passing thought. How low could he sink? How high was this prize?

Vil fantasized about her. Thoughts of just being with her. The warmth of her sun-kissed skin that was not fair in the slightest. Nestling in the softness of her middle and breathing the scent of herbs and flowers from her hair. He wondered if she thought of him the same way.

Unknown to him the girl shared in these desires too ashamed too admit. Her thought were of that prissy pretty boy who thought the world owed him something. Her face burned to think of his smug smile. The touch of his hands were probably as soft as velvet unlike her's who's was callused and rough. His lips were surely just as soft. But he wouldn't want a girl like her. He'd want someone classy and proper. He'd ask her to change for his sake. Yuu couldn't do that.

One afternoon as Yuu clipped her white roses she felt a hand on her cheek. It stung as a thumb brushed her cheekbone.

Tsk "You managed to sun burn yourself again." Vil scolded pulling out a vial of clear liquid.

"Stop, I'll be fine. It's only a bit of sun. I'll be fine." Yuu tried to pull away but Vil held firm.

"You should be concerned. Sun damage is bad for your skin!" Vil continued as he rubbed the solution onto her face.

"So what, I'm ugly anyways. I'll just become and old hag earlier just like I act the part." Yuu successfully pulled her face face away from him but his arm circled her waist and pulled her foward again.

"Don't say that! Don't ever say that!" Vil yelled as he held her. "You are many things. Brash, loud, and as stubborn as a mule; but you are also kind, quick-witted and you have a strong sense of justice."

Vil hugged her tightly as he spoke.

"I wish I could say, I regret taking from your garden. That I'm still mad you dragged me by the ear like a child. Or that you threw a tomato me. But I don't, not for a moment because I got the meet you. And you are so wonderful, for no other reason than that you are you." Vil took in a breath before he said the next part to steady his heart "I'm not going to be cliché and say I like you because you treat me like a normal person. Trust me, there are plenty of people who already do that and that's not enough to consider someone special because anyone can do that. You are more then just some girl who humbled me, you are a rose growing in concrete. Beautiful, resilient, and unexpected. And I love you."

Yuu felt something warm trail down her cheeks as tears stung her eyes. He hugged Vil close the her as she buried her head into his shoulder.

"Thank you...thank you." She whispered breathlessly.

Note: Don't steal Rampion. A witch will demand your first born and lock her in a tower. On another note I love Vil but I don't believe he would fall for a someone just because they treat him like a human it's not a trope I'm fond of. I think it's more complex then that. Simply telling someone they are pretty doesn't make them fall in love it help but it's more then that.

#come get yall food #twisted wonderland yuu #twst mc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x yuu #fem!reader #fem!y/n #fem!Yuu #gardener!yuu

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kissingrhi · 1 year

Note

i can’t stop thinking about remer with a size kink TAKE MY PHONE AWAY

this request actually awakened something in my soul

matt's 6'2 [weeps] [wails] [falls to the ground]

definitely realized it in one of the dumbest ways imaginable and was Super embarrassed

like you were probably just comparing hand sizes with him and in his mind he's like "am i attracted to this???"

spoiler alert: he absolutely is

while he is very crude sometimes, he can actually be very gentlemanly!

so he had nothing to do but sit and blush (at least in the beginning) when you would playfully poke fun at how "gargantuanly tall" he is or ask him to carry you everywhere

only way you got it out of him was during an extremely drunk make out session at 4 am

you two smelt like liquor and sweat and you can vaguely recall him mumbling something about how easy you are to move, how "pliant you are in his hands" (his excuse: he's an emotional drunk!)

even though the next day when you brought it up he was absolutely mortified and threw a pillow so hard he thought he'd knocked you out, the secret was out

from that point forward, he was basically shameless

giggles like a mad man at the sight of his hand against your ass, even in the most intimate scenarios

"it's like i can cup both your cheeks with just my fingers" "please shut the hell up"

whenever you wear his clothes he loses it

"you should know better. last time i slammed you into the wall so hard i think there's a dent."

the KING of goofy dirty talk

he'd bust out laughing while fingering you and be like, "aren't you just so precious and small? snookums." with a pinch to your cheek while you're literally grinding against his fingers and begging for him to touch you

once when you were on top you dragged his hand up to grasp around your throat and you're sure you've never seen him that aroused in your life

his eyes darkened and he squeezed a gentle push into one of your pulse points and the same exact time he thrusted up into you, proceeding to ravage you just from how much of your body his palms could cover

whenever you two fight, which is a lot and usually over very stupid shit, it'll most likely end with him pushing you against the wall and fucking you right there

"keep mouthing off and i'll show you how small you are next to me"

such an ass about the difference in your sizes in and out of the bedroom

100000% uses you as a headrest

finds it very endearing and very pleasing when you gag on his length

"no, no it's okay, baby - i'm too big for you, aren't i?" with the stupidest grin on his face

in his sellout era he was the cockiest of all, swinging you over his shoulder and giving your ass a firm smack whenever you'd frustrate him, all while laughing maniacally (it is extremely hard for him to take sex seriously!)

he holds both your wrists in one of his hands during doggystyle

he gets extremely aroused when you take control and the size difference even catches him when he's feeling more submissive

like when he's panting while making out with you and grinding his clothed cock against your knee and you mumble, "not so big and bad now?" into his mouth and against his tongue.....he cannot handle it. will cream his pants. has creamed his pants. doesn't wanna talk about it.

him holding your entire body and moving you while fucking you!!!!! the control does wild things to him

"i can just have you however i want, huh?"

he is so cocky and goofy in bed i cannot stress this enough

#baseketball #told y'all i'd take one for the team #doug remer #matt stone #doug remer x reader #baseketball x reader #size kink

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burningablaze · 1 year

Text

Hawks x Fem!Reader - All Giggles and No Work

A/N: @sparklycupcake56 requested this and I’m very pleased about how this turned out

Summary: It’s no secret that Hawks has been working too hard but then when he’s with Y/N, everything seems so peaceful, especially her laughter

Ler: Hawks

Lee: Reader

Words: 1,106

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

Hawks opened the door, stepped inside his home, and closed the door behind him. He sighed tiredly as he leaned his back against the door. He took his boots and his jacket off and placed them by the door.

“Baby?” He called out. “You here?” “In the bedroom!” Y/N said. Hawks walked to the bedroom and opened the door to see Y/N lying on the bed with a book in her hands.

“Hey, you.” Hawks greeted and laid down on the bed on his stomach. “Hey. Your home early.” Y/N pointed out. Hawks groaned. “Yeah, I’ve been working too hard, so the commission told me to just go home and rest. I’ve been doing a lot of stuff lately, and they finally recognized it.”

“That’s great, hon,” Y/N said with her eyes glued to her book, but her tone made Hawks worried. “Are you okay?” He asked. “Of course I’m okay.” She said, flipping a page. ‘Oh crap, what did I do wrong now?’ Hawks asked himself in his thoughts.

“Look, sweetie; I’m going to be home for a while so that we can spend more time together. I know I’ve been gone for a little,”

“By a little, you mean all the time.”

“Yes, I understand I’ve been away all the time, but you know I didn’t mean to do that. I’m not the type of person that will keep the other one in the dark. I just… I’ve been working a lot, getting cases closed, catching criminals, and everything else. I know that isn’t some petty excuse, and I’m sorry, and I,”

Y/N closed her book and placed her hand on his wild hair, scratching through his scalp. She gave him a genuine smile. “Hawks, relax. I know that you’re a hero, and I don’t care about that. As long as we spend time together, that’s all that matters. You don’t have to get so riled up.”

“So you're not mad?” Hawks asked. Y/N scoffed. “Of course not, dummy. You know, I’m glad the commission allowed you to take some time off. You really need it.”

Hawks sighed loudly. “No kidding. Don’t get me wrong; I like being a hero and all, but all I wanna do is cuddle up with my special love bird.”

His comment made her blush and flustered. “Aww! Hawks!” She covered her face with her hands to hide. Hawks smiled and slowly started to crawl on top of Y/N.

“What’s wrong? Are you getting flustered? Why are you hiding from me? And are you giggling?”

“Noohohoho! You're just being a bully!”

“A bully, huh?” Hawks questioned. Suddenly, he had an awful idea. A couple of his feathers flew from his wings and towards Y/N’s shirt to push it up to expose her belly. He grasped onto her wrists and pinned them out to the side.

“You know, I haven’t heard your laugh in a long time because I’ve been working sooo hard; I want to hear your laughter as a reward. Now be a good girl for me and hold still; I wanna eat this cute tummy up that’s been neglected for quite some time. Poor thing.”

Y/N had never felt this much flustered by this much teasing in such a long time. The feeling of being this kind of being disconnected from him had a toll on her. To feel this much joy again was honestly a gift. She enjoys this as much as Hawks does.

Hawks laid on top of Y/N just enough for his face to be near her belly and kissed there for starters. He smiled as Y/N hopelessly squirmed and laughed underneath him.

"Oh, you like that, don’t you?" He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her skin and making her giggle in response. “Ehehehehehehehehe! Hahahahahawks! Your stubble tihihihickles!” Y/N arched her back and wiggled side to side.

Hawks raised his eyebrow. “It does, huh? Does my stubble tickle you? What would happen if I scratched your tummy with it, hmm?” He moved his head from side to side, making sure his stubble REALLY tickled her.

“Nohohohohohoho! Not like thahahahahahahahat! Ahahahahahahahahaha your so mehehehean!”

“Mean? No, chickadee. THIS would be mean!” Suddenly, he dove his hands on top of Y/N’s thighs and started squeezing rapidly. She shrieked with booming laughter as Hawks tickled her worst spot ever. Y/N tried to push him away, but it only made him tickle harder.

“NOOHOHOHO! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!” “What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you? God, I miss tickling the snot out of you, but I definitely miss that laugh most of all.”

To put the icing on the cake, Hawks bend down to put his face in her belly to start kissing it again. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DON’T YOHOHOHOU DAHAHAHAHARE!”

Hawks smirked in her tummy. He didn’t lift his face to look at her for a second, but he talked instead. “In what way are you talking about?” He asked, then blew a tiny raspberry. “That?”

“YEHEHEHES YOU JEHEHEHERK!” “Oh, that’s it! PBBFFFFFTT!” “SHIHIHIHIT NOHOHOHOHOHO! LEHEHEHEHEAVE ME ALOHOHOHONE!”

Hawks gave Y/N no mercy to her poor belly and thighs. To be honest, his hands were getting tired from squeezing too fast, but he has a job at hand, making Y/N say sorry.

“Say you're sorry.” “NOHOHOHOHO!” “Say it, and this will stop.” “GOHOHO TO HEHEHELL, BIHIHIRDBRAHAHAIN!” “Don’t say I didn’t gave you a warning. PFFFFFT! PBBBFFFFFFFT!”

“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA OKAY OKAYEHEHEHEHE! I’M SORRY I’M SAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARRY! PLEASE STOHOHOHOP!”

Finally, Hawks stopped tickling her thighs and lifted his head back with an amused smirk. She was laughing so hard to the point that tears streamed down her face, and she could barely catch her breath. She was exhausted but still smiling. “That was mean!” Y/N said, still trying to catch her breath.

“I know, and your cute this way.” Hawks brushed some of Y/N’s messy hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. He leaned in closer and kissed her lips softly. Y/N smiled against his lips and kissed him back with more intensity. She tangled her hands in the back of his hair and deepened the kiss. The kiss felt like a drug, something that she was addicted to.

Hawks pulled away, his lips still hovering over hers. He smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling so full. “I love you too.” She said, feeling a warmth radiating through her body.

Hawks leaned in and kissed her again, this time slower and more passionately. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, just enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms.

#mha tickle #mha tickle fic #mha tickle fanfic #mha tickle fanfiction #mha requested fic #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #mha hawks #mha keigo takami #mha takami #hawks x reader #ler!hawks

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navibluebees · 1 year

Text

Home

Please read before interacting.

Ask from @bitchesforlife69 ! Edited and reposted. No clue why my phone went wild when I tried to correct something but, oh well.

"Could u write zdog x single mom reader who has to take her kid on the mission with them and zdog is watching them or something plz 🥺"

So excited for this one!

TW : mention of infertility

Zdinarsk was walking down the hall with her pack going to meet up with the other recoms when someone called out. “Excuse me? Can I get your help?” Her head swiveled around until she backtracked and poked her head into an office, seeing you, another blue human/Na’vi hybrid waving your fingers at her. She warily stepped in and saw a few packs set on the desk and then nearly tripped over a small wooden child’s toy.

You grimaced and said, “Sorry, they tend to get left everywhere. Thanks for stopping. I assume you’re part of the recom team?” A nod from Zdinarsk. You stuck out your hand to shake hers. “Y/N. I’ll be accompanying you today.”

She grasped your hand quickly and said, “Zdinarsk. These packs coming with us?”

You nodded. “Gotta have my supplies in case something happens.”

She cocked her head, ears twitching toward rustling under your desk.

You leaned down, arms reaching under and coming back up. Her eyes widened, seeing a small Na’vi body in your arms. The child wiggled against you, babbling and patting your face. He turned to Zdinarsk, intrigued by a new face and handed her his small toy car.

“Uh. Are they coming too?” she asked.

“He is my son. He goes where I go.” You clutched him close, soothing and picked up a wrap off the desk, twisting it and tying it around your body to hold him close.

She nodded and picked up the heaviest of packs, slinging it over her back. “So.. what’s your job?”

“Trauma surgeon when I was a human. That’s the reason they brought me around again. Figured my skills could be helpful especially if there’s any plan to go up against the Na’vi in the future. Just patch up the humans and send them back out again to mess things up again. He’s a bonus of the new body.”

Zdinarsk tilted her head, a bit confused but nodded, following you out of the room.

~~~

After meeting up with the group and introducing yourself, you hovered near Zdinarsk and climbed carefully into the helicopter. You packed the bags away and moved into your seat, putting a pair of headphones over your son’s ears. His face scrunched up, unhappy with the unfamiliar sensation and you cooed gently to him, tapping his nose with your finger. He gave you a bright toothy smile which you returned. You glanced up, feeling eyes on you and Zdinarsk met your gaze offering a kind smile.

~~~

When the helicopter landed, you climbed off, thanking the other recoms who had helped unload your packs. You slung yours over your shoulder, another on your back and Zdinarsk took the third. It definitely felt like overkill but if something happened, you’d be glad to have it.

You readjusted your son on your chest as he squirmed around. Zdinarsk waited for you to follow the group, her hands on her weapon pointed down. You fell into step beside her and she kept glancing your way, her presence impossible to ignore. “Is there something you want to say to me?”

She winced, embarrassed, and said, “Sorry. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I was just wondering how he got here?” She gestured to your son.

You grinned at her. “So I don’t know that you are aware of this, but I was the first recom. I had valuable skills and they wanted to see if it would work. Figured they’d give a test run on someone useful to them so if it succeeded then I could work closely with the recoms that came after. Then, they asked be if I’d be open to artificial insemination. I went for it. My human body wasn’t capable of conceiving and I was interested in having children at some point so I figured why the hell not? They did an egg retrieval pretty much the same way as you would back on Earth, combined it with male Na’vi DNA they used back then to make the avatars, put back it into me and boom. About a year later, this guy comes into the world. They wanted to see if these bodies would be capable of successful pregnancies and so.. here we are.”

Zdinarsk’s eyes widened as you finished your story. “Damn.”

“Pretty much!” You burst out laughing and she smiled at the way the sunlight came through the trees, highlighting the stripes on your face.

~~~

“So.. how do you feel in this body? I know as a soldier it’s been helpful to have more strength but I know it might be different for you.”

You glanced at your fingers, balling them into fists. “I feel a bit useless sometimes. There’s not much of a need for me at the moment, but I almost wish it would stay that way. I know I’m supposed to care more about humans.. but for about 2 years, I’ve been alone. A few people woke up earlier from cryo and my body had developed enough for it to be pulled and have my memories put in. So I was the only big blue around here. Until you guys.”

“Shit. You got pregnant pretty soon after you woke up, then?”

“Yeah, those days feel so hazy. I know I made the right choice for me and I can’t imagine not having him here.” You squeezed your son closer. “But I wish I could have had someone there with me. Who really understood how lost I felt at the time.”

She nodded, walking with you in companionable silence. Shouts broke the silence ahead and the two of you sped up a bit, coming into an area tangled with roots. Ja was sitting on the ground, his knuckles clenched, groaning. Wainfleet relayed that he had stepped into a sinking mossy area, fallen and twisted his ankle, breaking the skin on a sharp rock as he fell.

“My time to shine, I guess.” You put your pack down, pulling your suture kit and bandages out of it. Everyone else dropped their packs, taking a minute to be without the weight. You untied your wrap, laying it across your packs and held your son out to Zdinarsk. A panicked look crossed her face. “Please, will you hold him? Just while I suture and wrap Ja’s leg. You’ll be fine. I believe in you.”

Haltingly, with slightly trembling fingers, she reached for your son and pulled him to her chest, which he promptly snuggled into. You smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “I won’t be too long.”

Zdinarsk looked down at the small child in her arms, careful of his queue and bounced with him awkwardly. She hummed quietly, lost in thought. She’d always been fun aunt material, nowhere near ready to be a parent. Holy- her nieces and nephews had to be grown by now. She’d missed so much of their lives. Tears streamed down her face and she turned away from the group, wiping them.

She held your son closer to her chest, murmuring gently to him. After a little while she sat down to rest against a tree, propping him against her bent legs. He stared at her, wide-eyed and curious. His little hands gripped her thumbs and he squeezed so tight.

“Quite the grip, little guy.”

“Yeah, his mouth hurts like hell, too.”

She startled, not having heard you come up beside her. You wiped a few beads of sweat from your forehead and crouched beside them. Looking up at her, you noticed her eyes were swollen. “Hey, you okay? I’m sorry if I put too much pressure on you to hold him.”

“No, I promise it’s not that. I was just thinking about my family. How they probably don’t even know I’m alive and if they did… what would they even think?”

You nodded in understanding. “We are not who we were. This is our home now. Our world to protect. Our People.” You smiled down at your son, before your face hardened, looking back to hers. “It is only a matter of time before we are disposable to the humans. I will not allow that to be the world my son grows up in. He will never be a weapon wielded by another’s hand.”

Zdinarsk shuddered, chilled by your words.

~~~

You sat with Ja for most of the afternoon while everyone else mapped the area and learned more of the terrain. He was very sullen about getting hurt so early on. Thankfully, Na’vi bodies had a slightly faster rate of healing. Warren hovered nearby as protection if needed. Eventually, your son fell back asleep and you rocked him until it was time to go back.

~~~

Zdinarsk helped you with your bags on the way to your office, putting them on the countertop near your desk. You gathered up your shower bag and a foldable bassinet for your son to nap in.

“What are you doing?” You paused, turning at her voice, ears flattening.

“What do you mean? I’m going to shower.”

“And you take your kid with you?”

You frowned, tail flicking in irritation. “There isn’t exactly a Na’vi child daycare around here.”

“Well.. yeah you’re right but I mean, I could watch him.. if you’re okay with that?”

Your ears perked up. “Really??”

She nodded. “I know we don’t know each other well, but I’ve got some experience with my nieces and nephews and babies like me a little bit I think.”

You walked to her and squeezed her biceps, and a blush creeped up your ears as you felt the muscles under her skin. You shook your head to refocus and met her gaze. “I am seriously so thankful. I haven’t had much help and- anyway, I’m grateful. Come on.” You turned and walked to the door at the back of your office, opening it to a Na’vi size studio apartment.

You hurriedly cleaned your couch off. “Sorry. Obviously wasn’t expecting a guest.”

Zdinarsk waved you off, looking around the room, not expecting such a homey feel. She walked to a screen that rotated through photos. One came up with you right after birth, smiling at your son. Her chest buzzed with warmth and she turned back to you.

“Here’s the remote. Watch whatever you want if you want. Toilet is over there if you need it. Just press the red panel on the wall to open the door. I love this space for us but it’s pretty inconvenient they couldn’t fit a shower in it too. I’ve got him in this crib, if you’ll just sit with him, he sleeps pretty well and I’ll be back in a bit. Thank you so much.”

~~~

It had been an everything shower. You were scrubbed, renewed and felt like you were floating down the hallway. You opened the door to your apartment quietly and smiled softly when you saw the scene inside. Zdinarsk's hand was resting against the bars of the crib. Your son's fingers were stretched to touch hers and his other hand was balled into a small fist. Zdinarsk was asleep, head lolling back on the couch, mouth open.

You covered her up with a blanket and sat beside her to read on your tablet, turning the light down so it wouldn't bother her. She leaned in closer to you, head rolling onto your shoulder. You started to shift and she mumbled grumpily in her sleep, curling into your side. You huffed softly and settled beside her, pulling the blanket over you as well. As you sat, hearing your baby's quiet coos and felt Zdinarsk's warm breath on your neck, you wondered what a family could look like in this strange world that had become your home.

#recom zdinarsk #recom z dog #avatar way of water #avatar recoms

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gloomyswritings · 10 months

Text

the ties that bind | joshua rosfield x fem!reader

chapter I - the beginning

Read this instead story on hiatus

warnings : none

note : this story will have nsfw content at some point. story will have spoilers for the game and the game lore will be changed some as to fit the story i want for the reader. the reader will have some traits i give them just for the sake of making the story flow better (ex: eye color, hair length, etc). please ignore spelling and grammar mistakes i’ll at some point probably fix it all. this is a slow burn fan fic

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Mornings were always dreaded by you, it meant that you had to get dressed and attend the boring classes that royals were forced to. Etiquette, politics, foreign affairs, literature, and the most dreaded mathematics. But today was different you’d be taking a break from your usual routine and instead you’d be going to Rosaria with parents. It was on the pretense of it being for solely political matters but of course you’d be taking advantage of it fully being able to see your most bestest of friends—Joshua Rosfield. Oh, and of course there was Clive and Jill there also but then we’re just your friends no one had the bond you and the Phoenix shared. It didn’t take long before the maids fluttered in quickly pulling you out of your soft warm bed.

“Lady _____, must you sleep so crazily? I had braided your hair to perfection last night and now your hair looks like a wild chocobos nest!” The middle aged maid scolded as she began to run a brush through your tangled hair. Wincing as the brush got caught on a knot you whined, “Miss Tatiana you’re being too rough!” You cried but the maid known as Tatiana ignored your pleas. “You’ve always had the wildest of hairs ever since you were a baby, so you should be used to it by now.” She clicked her tongue. Finally after some more pain you were relieved from the torment of having your hair brushed, “You need to look presentable for the Rosfields _____.” Tatiana said as she finished your pigtail braids tying a dainty white ribbon to the ends. Jumping out of her grasp you spun on your heel facing her, “It’s a three day wagon ride anyways! My hair well look like a mess by tonight.” You said matter of factly a proud smirk playing your plump lips. But the greying maid ignored you as she began to pull out a dress from a wardrobe, “Come child put this on.” She said motioning you with her hands to come to her.

Finally you were dressed in a simple yet elegant pale pink dress that fell a few inches below your knees paired with leather boots it was time to go find your parents. Tatiana waving you off so she could finish packing for the trip. Humming contently as you walked down the halls searching for your parents. “Excuse me, have you seen me father and mother ?” You asked a branded man. “O-oh yes Lady _____, they are outside in the courtyard!” The nervous branded man said. You never understood why branded acted so scared of you. Surely you weren’t that mean or ugly, right? You nodded a frown replacing your smile, “Alrighty thanks! Also I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?” You asked curiously. The man shifted uncomfortably his eyes darting across the corridor as knights watched him closely from afar though you were oblivious to it all. “It’s..it’s Da-“ but before he could answer you shouting was heard from down the hall.

Your mother’s screeching echoed through the corridor, “_____ get here this instant!” She stormed towards you placing a strong grip on your arm as she yanked you away from the branded man, “And you why are you just standing around! Go you have a job to do!” She shouted at the branded who quickly scurried away bowing and apologizing the whole time. Your mother’s grasp was tight and you let out a cry, “Mummy stop you’re hurtin me!” You whimpered pulling away from her grip. Your mother turned to face you a look of fear on her face, “He didn’t hurt you right or say anything to upset you?” She asked leaning down to wipe the corners of your watery eyes. Her intense amber eyes stared into yours thin black brows knitted together in concern. Shaking your head you pushed her hands from your face, “I’m okay mum, I was jus askin him his name and where you two were. Please don’t punish him he didn’t do nothin’.” You pleaded with your mother. She sighed standing up, “Nothing will happen to him. But you shouldn’t speak to bearers dear it looks bad.” She scolded you half heartedly. But why was it bad weren’t they just people also?

~•••~

You laid your head against the glass window of the carriage, pale grey eyes staring absentmindedly out the window eyelids heavy due to boredom. You hated road trips and wished you could just teleport to Rosaria. traveling from the Crystalline Dominion all the way to the other side of Storm was boring all the scenery looked the same, the random Imperial checkpoints the caravan would be forced to stop at it was boring. How much longer was it until you’d arrive? Until you could see your dear friends. Then without notice the carriage abruptly stopped, your head bouncing off the window. Wincing you rubbed your temple your mother already quickly wrapping her arms around you, “My dear are you okay?” She asked. Reaching over she slid down the window sticking her head out, “You bearer, conjure some ice for me.” She commanded snapping her fingers. “Yes Lady Marianne!” the bearer soldier said quickly conjuring a small shard of ice and handing it to your mother. She placed the ice against your temple, the sudden coldness sending a shiver down your spine she replaced her hand with yours telling you to hold it in place and stay put while she investigated.

Muffled talking was all you heard, you looked out the window once again looking at the scenery. Huh this was a knew route…you thought to yourself. Curiosity took ahold of you as you slid the carriage door open, your bare feet hitting the rough gravel road. Turning your attention towards your mother and father talking at the front of the caravan you then noticed there seemed to some hold up. “…I don’t care that a carriage was overturned were already a day behind let’s move on. Leave some soldiers with them and we get a move on.” Your mother said obviously annoyed at whatever had happened up ahead. Your father smiled rubbing the back of his head as he took on your mother’s wrath, “My dear Marianne we can’t do that…” you stopped listening at that point uninterested in their banter. It seemed like you’d be here for some time so you might as well walk around for a bit, you wouldn’t wander far. Grabbing you boots with one hand you used your feet to slip the shoes on your hand still grasping the slowly melting ice shard. Glancing around you made sure now one was looking before you trotted off just barely out of sight of the caravan.

You sang quietly to yourself as you rummaged through the foliage near a riverbank. You could still faintly hear chattering and cooing from the chocobos from the caravan so you weren’t too far. The ice had completely melted now leaving your hands wet but you didn’t mind as you plucked a few wildflowers from the ground. It was then something caught your eye from further down the riverbank, a shiny object glistening in the sun. Quickly you rushed towards the object, paying no mind to the lingering danger just beyond the brush. “Ah ha!” You mumbled under your breath as you came upon the shiny object. It looked as if it was something from the Ancients whatever it was you were pleased quickly shoving it in your pocket. Joshua is going to be so jealous! You thought to yourself a content smile playing on your lips. As you turned around to make your way back to the caravan before anyone noticed you heard a twig snap catching your attention. Goosebumps littered your skin as you froze in place. “Hello?” You called out quietly scanning the tree line. A primal like fear overtook your senses but before you could run away a wild lone hound raced out from the tree line making its way towards you. A scream left your mouth just as the hound pounced on your swiping it paw across your cheek but just as quick as the hound jumped on you it was thrown off of you.

“______! Are you okay?!” You heard your father shout as he finished off the hound he rushed towards you dropping his sword by his side as he wrapped his arms around you. “Fuck ______ your face!” He grimaced pulling a handkerchief out of shirt pocket dabbing your face. It was then you felt the stinging sensation and then warm liquid run down your cheek. This truly was an unlucky trip for you.

next chapter ->

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polyhexian · 5 months

Note

Well now that the runaway au is pretty well-established, here's a branch-off to keep @theorangerangers universe tree on its toes - reverse runaway au where Darius finds a stressed and panicking Jasper on his doorstep.

Darius is just HOLY FUCK YOU'RE ALIVE and Jasper is like DARIUS HE HAS MY SON AND I NEED HELP and Darius is like WAIT WHO HAS YOUR WHAT???

It's not even Will's fault, Hunter randomly got caught by some coven scouts who just thought they were helping out some kid and then realized the kid matched the descriptions of that wanted man's son and one thing led to another and now Jasper is freaking out in Darius's living room.

Darius eventually recovers enough to grasp the situation and think strategically and has to ask "if it's really as dire as you say it is are you even sure--" and Jasper is like "oh I know Hunter's still alive because Belos will want to make me watch him die" and Darius is just like okay YIKES.

Meanwhile Hunter is trying very hard to be brave but he's a little kid in a scary situation. Also Belos probably takes it personally that there's a Grimwalker who he hasn't traumatized, like, that's not allowed.

Will is just like, okay, wait, hold up. Are you seriously going to torture this kid? And Belos doesn't know it but there's no good answer he can give here, it's either 1) Yep I'm gonna, it's okay because the Titan said so and wild magic is bad, what's it to you? or 2) Ohhhhh NO of COURSE not we're just gonna let Jasper think I'm torturing the kid so he comes to rescue him and then we'll have him trapped! At which point Will just squints like, okay, and why, exactly, would Jasper be so willing to believe that you would torture a child?

Darius and Jasper are having a very stressful time staying under the radar and sneaking around the castle and gathering intel and trying to figure out where Hunter is and the best way to rescue him, and also re-bonding with each other and having at least one stress-induced makeout session.

And then all their efforts are in vain because the Golden Guard suddenly comes striding down the hallway (flanked by a very short coven scout) to announce that unfortunately the Emperor has suffered a sudden and extreme brain aneurysm, he was dead before he even hit the floor, what a tragedy, if you'll excuse me I need to stick Kikimora in charge of the funeral preparations so she feels important and doesn't have time to take over the throne.

god im sure that by the time will is called for and shows up (because he actually has a job and does it) belos has already hurt the kid somehow and will is just fucking

will walks in and sees the kid with his face split open again and just fucking loses it on sight

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yallmakemyassitch · 1 year

Text

An Eldritch's Endearment (a transcript)

Summary: Kevin has one of the biggest lee moods ever and would practically let anybody tickle him. Luckily, a certain monster has come to his apartment to fulfill his darkest desires

Word count: 6013

Characters: 33636

Tobi talks: Yeah, I did a self insert this time! While the og comic inspired this fic, please note the fic and art are completely separate scenarios. Either way, sorry for this being a little late, was busy with school and shit but glad I could get this out. Enjoy! (also tiggles are kinda intense so look out for that :P)

✿

Kevin has been uncharacteristically happy recently, despite his reputation as the typical grumpy cashier. The happiest he’s been would be on his days off, but today wasn’t one of those days. When his boss would brush past him to get by, he’d practically leap several feet into the air. Along with that, he struggled to keep that stupid grin and his heavy blush at bay when sinking into one of his tickle fantasies. His own manager pointed out his odd tendencies but he always had an excuse for it.

Such a stupid thing to feel but the candyman craved it deeply. Kevin, after locking up the store and making his way down his usual route down the dingy, creepy road, quietly giggled to himself. His thoughts ran wild at the idea of someone just picking him up and going to town on him until he was a cackling, flustered mess. He would prod himself gently just to get the thrill of a devious ler poking him, making him flinch. He even laughed openly in the crisp air. Halloween was nearing its arrival and although he dreaded the inevitable rude customers and two certain annoying boys, that didn’t ruin his mood.

These cycled his mind in an endless loop of anticipation and disappointment. How he wished for someone to just appear before him and give him what he desired, mercilessly tickle him until he was reduced to nothing but a puddle of giggles. The wind blew, sliding crisp air down his exposed neck. If it weren’t for his heightened sensitivity, he wouldn’t have even batted an eye to it.

But he couldn’t help but grasp it and silently chuckled.

It tickled, just a little.

But an even stronger breeze came and he froze as he heard what he thought was his name. It was hushed and quiet, but whoever or whatever it was called his name. He brushed it off and walked up the steps to his apartment complex. Twisting his key in the door and opening it, he slammed the door behind him and slid his back against the door. The butterflies were still going.

He was smiling yet it hurt that this mood of his would dissipate yet again into an eventless night and he would be back to his normal self. The ravenette reached into his pocket and smiled to himself. Looking through his secret account’s dashboard, he saw that his favorite author had written another fanfiction and posted it only a few minutes ago. While nothing could truly satisfy his desire, reading his favorite characters in their own silly predicament always brought a smile to Kevin’s face.

With the gleam of his phone on his face, he wasn’t focusing on his environment. But when he briefly glanced up, he froze.

In the darkness stood a figure.

His heart began to throttle.

Whatever it was, he noticed them, and they spoke up.

“Hello, Kevin.”

His eyes were as wide as saucers, there was someone in his apartment. It took his eyes a while to adjust but when it did, he could see the insanely tall figure of a woman. A golden eye slowly appeared where her head would supposedly be. It was slick and catty-like, scrutinizing the candyman as he sat there, perplexed. Kevin’s arm reached up behind him to scale the wall, touching the area before landing on the light switch and flicking it on.

The woman wore an oversized hat that covered most of her facial features, donning diamond earrings that reflected in the light. Clearly, the “guest” in his home had a taste for fashion, especially when it came to shades of lavender and black, the primary colors of the fabric she wore. She outstretched her arms to her sides, almost welcoming him in a sense.

“Now that’s no way to greet a lady, hm love~?” She had a beautiful British accent, making Kevin’s heart race. He encountered plenty of things in the past but she felt… different.

He would certainly feel afraid if weren’t for her lax nature, she didn’t feel like a threat.

“W-who are you?” Kevin weakly said, pressing up against the door.

The lady chuckled, nice and smooth against his ears as she seemed genuinely amused. It was honestly kind of cute.

“Why don’t we sit down and I’ll properly introduce myself there.” The woman purred before turning around towards the direction of his living room. He heard her boots click as she walked in and the creak his sofa endured as her weight placed pressure on the cushions. The lamp turned on, meaning that whoever it was right around the corner is someone he could completely see now.

Kevin stood up, shaken by all that’s happened but felt compelled to follow her. He entered the living room and there he saw the woman, cross legged on his sofa, holding a glass of what appeared to be wine. Her features were fully visible now, her big hat was dramatic, topped with flowers, feathers, and a ribbon at the back of her hat. Her suit jacket was completely unbuttoned and wore a long, frilly skirt.

“Come now, love. We have much to discuss.” He was broken out of his trance when she spoke up. She stared at him with her thoughtful eye and patted the space next to him.

“Um, okay,” Kevin said, sitting directly opposite to her on his sofa.

Time seemed to freeze as the tall woman next to him continued to take sips of her wine, pausing in between before continuing to sip. The noirette just stared off, thinking about what was gonna do.

Was she harmless? She hadn’t hurt him and even if she wanted to, he was sure she would do so already. It wasn’t until the woman offered her cup to Kevin, not looking at him as she did so.

“Sorry, I don’t drink.” The woman seemed to have to process this as her arm didn’t move when he rejected her request.

“I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Mrs. Mulberry.” An odd name to say the least but Kevin didn’t comment on it.

She placed the nearly empty wine glass on his coffee table and turned to him, her golden eye watching him as she folded her hands together.

“I’ve come to learn something very special about you, Kevin. And I think you know what~”

Kevin was now starting to get a little weirded out, this lady knew about him? He turned to her as well, locking eyes with her. “And what’s that?”

Mrs. Mulberry in an instant had a toothy, golden glowing smile manifest. She chuckled menacingly, a chill going down the candyman’s smile in tandem. “It would be better to show than tell.”

Her gaze got more intense, the single eye widening before relaxing. Kevin’s breath was caught in his throat, his heart racing. But nothing happened. He held his breath for a few more moments before releasing it, half-panicked. It’s either that Mrs. Mulberry was messing with him or she had just done something he hadn’t noticed yet.

“I wouldn’t lower my guard so quickly if I were you, sweetheart.”

This lady had gotten comfortable with him awfully quick, so much so she’s been pulling out more pet names. Kevin was visibly flustered and looked away. But was even more shocked that Mrs. Mulberry had stood up, revealing her true height as the lamp light shined up at her.

Kevin was going to make a run for it. He tried to clench his fist, but nothing happened. He froze for a second then his blood turned to ice, he couldn’t move!

He screamed at his nerves to move something, a leg, a finger, but nothing was working.

“W-what did you do to me?!” Kevin said, panicked. Mrs. Mulberry just smirked at him, “Just a little something that would make my job easier, darling.” she said it in a sweet voice but her behavior suggested otherwise

His breath became ragged as her gloved, slender fingers approached him, wiggling at him sinisterly.

“No, please…” He squeezed his eyes shut. Mrs. Mulberry had begun to zip down his jacket and slid her hand inside where she had full access to his torso. He was terrified and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for whatever pain would be bestowed on him.

Kevin was confused when her touch remained gentle, her fingers just softly grazing and squeezing the surface as if she were looking for something…

He choked when she lightly poked his ribs, up and down she went, sounds building up in his throat as they began to be more and more unbearable.

A squeak escaped Kevin’s lips when he felt something wiggle against his ribs. Kevin was beginning to get an idea of what she was doing and all his fear seemed to disappear except for one part.

He looked up and saw her, she was staring at him smugly, daring to let out any of those sounds. The candyman did all that he could to look away.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle~” Mrs. Mulberry began to quietly tease the poor boy, noticing how close he was cracking. Kevin was already beginning to go a little insane, snickering as her hands explored his midsection, tracing random shapes over his stomach.

She slipped her hands underneath his uniform shirt, feeling the pale skin shudder as the cold hands teased the surface of his flesh, “Oh, how soft~” she pinched his tummy with endearment.

He was already smiling like a fool at this point, his face was starting to burn. But that barrier quickly broke out as laughter poured from when his lips Mrs. Mulberry began to knead to the pudge of his stomach.

“W-waHaHait! MihiHihis!” Kevin’s laughter was muddled with small hiccups as she relentlessly scribbled and skittered along his tummy. His chest shook with breathy cackles, although he remained paralyzed. His laughter doubled when she pushed her hand against his chest to keep him from falling over, exposing more of his tummy. The British woman without hesitation, began to claw at his gut, just enough to drive the candyman to hysteria. He wanted to throw his head back and scream to the heavens, to grab her wrists and beg for mercy but couldn’t even do that much with how loud he was howling.

“My my, what a ticklish little lad you are~” Mrs. Mulberry leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his belly button before releasing him from her force, allowing him to wrap his arms around his torso.

Kevin panted, still giggling he looked up at her. “W-what was that for?”

Mrs. Mulberry stared at him, turning her head curiously. “Why, that’s because you wanted to be tickled, correct?” He stopped for a second, his eyes shimmering with realization and now nervousness.

Kevin had been in his mood for a while now and couldn’t help but want exactly what she said. He smiled awkwardly, giving her a signal he knew now.

“That’s right. You’ve been in quite the lee mood haven’t you, just begging for someone to come along and take you into their arms. Well, your wish has been fulfilled.”

Kevin huffed, “That’s it?” This was exactly like the stories he’s read. He was loving it.

Now Mrs. Mulberry was smiling. “Of course not, dear. I can tell you’re not satisfied with your initial treatment. I would have come earlier but I had some…business to attend to, such a shame you had to bask in such an insufferable mood, isn’t it?”

The candyman stared up at the now-standing woman. The Brit sat back down next to him.

“Where shall I target next, love?” Kevin exploded into red and immediately looked away, “I-I don’t know.” he said quickly.

His face was cupped and turned to meet her gaze, now mischievous at his lie. “Don’t lie to me, Kevin. You either choose yourself or I’ll choose for you~” Mrs. Mulberry would sound serious if it weren’t for the playful tinge to her voice.

Kevin’s silly smile was squished by her hand as her forehead was pressed against his.

“I swheheear, I dohohon’t know!” Kevin giggled, gripping her arm for mercy.

Her patience had quickly run out, and her gaze darkened.

“That was your final chance.”

The irony hung in the air as Kevin shifted away his body, wanting so badly to laugh but so nervous about where she would strike first.

Mrs. Mulberry noticed this gesture and looked at him, “That’s adorable honey. Unfortunately, it was a poor choice to make it so obvious.” she lunged at him and grabbed his legs to pull onto her lap.

“Now this must be a sweet spot~”

Kevin literally squealed and was pushed onto his back.

“W-wahait please not my feeheeheet!” Kevin cried, going mad with giggles as he curled his toes in anticipation.

“What? These adorable little things?” Mrs. Mulberry began to undo the laces to his shoes, panicking as she did so. No matter how much he pulled his legs and squirmed side to side, his ankles didn’t move from the plush spot placed on her thighs, the invisible force had returned. He couldn’t help but groan yet laugh in dread.

“P-plehehease Mihihihis, behehe gehehentle…” Kevin now covered his eyes with his arm, but that didn’t stop his infamous red blush from creeping up his face. He could now feel the shoes slowly slipping off and falling to the floor. As his anticipation grew, so did his giggling.

Just a few hours ago, he wanted this to happen, so why was he so nervous? Kevin didn’t have any time to answer his own question as he felt fingers scratch against his socked soles.

A flurry of giggles slipped through the noirette’s lips. “Mwehehehehehe, gahahahahad ihihit’s so bahahad!” The noirette uncovered his eyes to look at their tormentor.

Mrs. Mulberry was skittering her fingertips all across his feet, not minding how they jerked and curled, which could be easily dealt with, but for now, she would take her time. “Your laughter is incredibly charming, Kevin~”

He begged to differ, he would die of embarrassment if anybody knew he was giggling like this.

“Nohoho ihihit’s nahHAhahHa~” His laughter spiked, now hitting all sorts of notes. Mrs. Mulberry was dragging her fingers slowly across his arches, a sweet spot for him as he started to snort.

He tried to hold back but the noises kept coming through. Now a snorting, chortling mess, he wrapped his arms around his torso and just laughed, no longer holding back, and what came out shortly after left his stomach swarming with butterflies.

“W-waHahait nahAHAHAT tHaHat!” Kevin snorted, his hair disheveled and cheeks burning red. When he felt his socks being slipped off and exposing what he’d long been hiding, his eyes widened.

“Dohohon’t look-!” But it was already too late. Mrs. Mulberry saw what was underneath and gasped lightly in shock. Her sweet little lee had paws for feet, small pink nails, smooth pads that looked soft to the touch, and silky white fur that covered up to his ankles.

She looked at him fondly, “Oh Kevin, how could you hide such a thing from me?” she poked his heart-shaped pad with her finger, making him flinch. “I’m going to have so much fun with these.”

Kevin screeched internally in terror, the thought of her working his paws made him cover his face in shame. He felt humiliated.

Until a gentle hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled his hand off his face, exposing his embarrassed expression to the Brit. “Kevin, truly, this is nothing to be ashamed of.”

He looked away from her, how could he not, it’s such a weird thing about him he wished he didn’t have. He felt her fingers touch again, but not in the way he expected.

It was affectionate and gentle. Mrs. Mulberry was tracing the heart-shaped pad with her finger, not tickling in the slightest.

“Instead, it’s very cute. You clearly take care of yourself.”

“What do you mean?” He huffed.

“The fur is as soft as clouds and these little paws are an adorable pink color. Almost as adorable as that little blush on your face right now. ”

Kevin’s “little” blush had since spread to his ears, vibrating and pulsing as Mrs. Mulberry continued to compliment and praise him.

“How can you be ashamed, dear? This is an endearing trait.” Mrs. Mulberry, even with her jarring teeth, gave Kevin a genuine smile. “They are lovable and cute, you will someday meet someone who thinks the same way as I do~”

The candyman looked up at her and gave her that same genuine smile. It was gentle, yet so cute, the woman nearly wanted to smother him with kisses right there. “Thank you, Mrs. Mulberry.”

Instead, she only gave him one kiss, smack dab on the center of his forehead. As soon as that ended, there was a shift in her expression. She was still smiling but it was no longer sugar-coated in comfort. “Oh but of course, I can’t ignore such self-destructive behavior, hm?”

Kevin frowned. “W-what… you’re not going to…”

“That I am.”

Mrs. Mulberry lifted her hat off from her head and swiftly picked the fluffiest, biggest feather out of the bunch. It was white and looked soft to the touch. Kevin swallowed a ball of saliva when he realized what she was about to do. She placed her hat back onto her head, grinning at Kevin who at this point had all the color drained from his face.

“I cannot let this incident go unpunished, isn’t that right, Kevin?” She waggled the fluffy feather teasingly in the air.

Kevin reached to try and grab her arm but her strength was just too much for him as she easily moved him away onto his back. He could only watch in terror as the feather was brought closer and closer to his bare paws. Mrs. Mulberry stopped and took one single swipe from the bottoms of his feet to his toes. The ravenette tried to fight it back but broke as quickly as it came at the wrath of the Brit’s feather.

Slowly, she stroked it up and down the sensitive fur and the especially ticklish paw pads. But that wasn’t all as she used her free hand to wiggle onto his other foot. Kevin threw his head back over the armrest and his chest shook with silent laughter before practically screaming. He shook his head and begged but was left politely rejected by the Brit.

“What? Does my feather tickle your fancy, Kevin? Uhuhuhu~” The fact that she laughed at her own pun of all things made Kevin die a little on the inside. Not that it showed as he was too busy laughing his ass off.

“STAHAHAP!” He gripped his arms to cope with the overly ticklish feeling.

“And why should I? Your cackles are as sweet as candy, something I’m sure you know a lot about.”

Kevin reddened at her tease, he was starting to get desperate, “Ah-AHahHAhahHA! H-HEHEHLP! SoHOhoMEOne hEheHELP!” Who was he even calling for?

“No one can hear you, my love. Only me~” He didn’t respond, happy tears were streaming down his face and his laughter turned uncontrollable and wheezy.

“It must feel unbearable, doesn’t it?” She gave him one good tickle, threading the feather between his toes, making him shriek for the final minute until he was silent. The British woman let him go but was surprised to see he hadn’t moved from his spot.

Kevin’s breath was ragged and laced with small hiccups and giggles. He was staring up at the ceiling, raw euphoria circulating throughout his body. His vision was dotted and blurry with tears and could hardly think straight, but one thing that was coherent in his mind was that he loved every second of it, even if it left him screaming. Mrs. Mulberry placed the feather back into her hat and came to his side to cup the sides of the candyman’s face. She thumbed away the last of his mirthful tears, softly giggling to herself that she had reduced the man into such putty.

“Kevin, darling…” That same accent rolled up his name in a velvety bouquet.

The woman pulled the boy below her to her side and began to press a barrage of kisses and pecks all over his face and the sides of his neck. She had no physical lips yet Kevin could feel a soft pair treating him lovingly for his triumph.

“H-hehehey! Stop thahat!” No matter how much he tried to push her away, she would grab his arm and plant kisses on the palm of his hand before traveling down his wrist all the way to his shoulder.

“Wahahit! Tihihickles!” Kevin sputtered out as the woman pressed a succession of feather-light kisses in the palm of his hands, growling as she nibbled the thin skin. Her affection was undying and Kevin just giggled, lightly kicking his legs as the Brit held him close and peppered him with her devious motherhood.

Mrs. Mulberry now sat snug in the crook of his neck, pressing loud, dramatic kisses up and down. It felt unbearably ticklish and Kevin just snorted and chortled, laughing openly at the sensations.

“You’re sohohoho dramhahatic! Ihihit’s teheheherible!” He wheezed as the Brit pulled on the collar of his shirt to access his collarbone and was gently nibbling on it. Her teeth were sharp but it was soft enough to just have the ravenette wheezing.

“Darling, this is nothing close to what I can really do to you~”

“Yehehes it ihihis!”

“Uhuhu, you just keep talking, my love~” She didn’t hold back, now practically chomping all over his neck and shoulders, he just let it happen. Kevin snorted and squealed each time she moved, holding onto her sides for support as she was basically on top of him now but still had her bottom on the sofa.

He opened her eyes, still belting out those sugary sweet giggles she loved to hear, and looked down toward his hands. He was holding onto her for dear life as she began to blow raspberries on his neck, making him throw his head back to laugh even harder than he was.

The candyman let his intrusive thoughts win and began to wildly scribble his fingertips up and down his sides.

“Hohohow doho you lihihike that, huhuhuh?” Kevin taunted, loving how she froze at his surprise attack.

He scribbled up towards her ribs and traced his fingertips between the bones, feeling the woman on top of him begin to shudder.

“Kevin.”

Her beautiful voice was beginning to sputter out heavenly chuckles, making Kevin blush at such a lovely tone entering his ears. “K-kehehevin…”

She laughed into the crook of her neck, her chest shaking with bubbly laughter as his fingers traveled to her back and carefully skittered on the arch and shoulder blades. Her laughter doubled, sounding nearly breathless as she grabbed onto his shoulders.

“Kehehevin, please! H-have mehehercy!” Mrs. Mulberry cried.

Kevin never felt so accomplished making someone so merciless beg for respite.

Either way, she had just tortured him, it was only fair to punish her a little.

“Never!” he announced, skittering his hands down towards the small of her lower back and pinching it between his fingers like a set of the most diabolical nipping teeth. She wheezed and collapsed on top of him in a fit of mirth, covering her mouth as she now laughed uncontrollably.

“Ahahahahahahaha!” He was sure she was an angel, the air was filled with saccharine laughter as he made his way up the dip of her spine, tracing it up and down lightly.

“Coochie coochie coo~” The candyman cooed in her ear, smiling as her laughter seemed to harden and her grip tightened on his shoulders. Kevin was unsure where to go next, he never tickled people that much anyway. It didn’t take long as he saw an opening clear as day, her underarms.

The missus's arms were wrapped around his neck, still chuckling up a storm beneath his touch so he sneakily crept up to it. Suddenly, Kevin dug his fingers into the hollows and began to scratch at it deviously, stunned when she threw her head back to release a shrill cry, revealing her toothy, yet somewhat flustered expression for a moment before burying in his chest again.

“Nohohot thehehere!” His heart nearly jumped out of his chest at that plea, it made him dangerously excited.

“Why not, you aren’t even moving?!” He was right in his hypothesis however, the woman had given him ample access to her body and didn’t even put his arms down as he attacked her presumably worse spot. She still squirmed and seemed embarrassed that he had noticed this and just continued to laugh her heart out.

He kept her there, digging into his ribs, squeezing her love handles, and overall, being merciless until her laughter had turned breathless. Kevin figured she’d learn her lesson and removed his hands from her torso, reeling how she lightly panted at his torment.

“Haha…h-how was that?” The candyman exclaimed, smiling smugly.

“T-that was…” Mrs. Mulberry sounded tired, her breathing slowing down before eventually evening out. “That was fun.”

“Well then, that’s nice to hear.” He gave her a pat on the back, signaling her to move off of him.

A few seconds ticked by, the two of them unmoving.

“So uh, you gonna get off of me?” he asked.

She was quiet at first and then leaned into his ear, “And why should I do that?” she snarled. Kevin could feel the vibrations of her voice and his heart sank. He truly thought that would be the end of it.

He felt her smile against his skin, “You’re quite the tease when you tickle, hm? You had me quite flustered for a moment,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But not quite enough to incapacitate me~”

Kevin felt hands latch onto the sides of his ribcage and squeeze. He had no time to react as she already began to rake her way. Kevin tried to sit up but was still against the couch, pinned down by Mrs. Mulberry. He had nowhere else to go other than wrap his legs around her torso and squeal.

“AhahAHahAha! NahahHAT AGahaHAIN!” Kevin laughed, arching his back and trying to twist away as she began to nibble on his neck and tickle his midsection.

“Oh yes again~” she mimicked, giggling as the candyman squawked under her, hardly struggling to even avoid the tickling. So why not use that to her advantage?

The Brit snuggled deep into the warmth of his neck, snickering oh so slightly when she felt Kevin shiver in panic.

“You love this, you love it when I tickle you to pieces, don’t you? Uhuhu, I love tickling you too. I don’t ever want to stop and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind that either, hm?” she knew how much her voice had an effect on him and this was no different; Kevin was grinning wolfishly.

“Noho I dohon’t like it!” Kevin sputtered out, now finally able to grip her wrists. He panted, looking at her to witness the reaction. At first, it was silence, then a gentle chuckle that was barely audible.

Kevin began to panic as his way of restraining her quickly backfired. Mrs. Mulberry grabbed onto his wrists and pushed him back, further until his arms were pinned onto the back of the couch.

“Lying to me was your worst mistake, love~”

He was expecting her to lift her hand and be pinned but was surprised to see that she kept him there, nearly straddling him with how close she was. She wiggled her hand above him, hovering over many spots to seemingly choose from.Kevin panicked, began to kick his legs, and stammer out half-genuine requests of mercy.

“Ihihi didn’t mehean ihihit!” he cried, twisting his body but his wrists were firmly planted against the couch. Mrs. Mulberry only smirked, continuing to get more sinister when she approached and pulled back just to see the candyman’s cute yet panicked expression. With just one hand, she could reduce the man to rubble. And he knew it.

It didn’t take long for her to launch a surprise attack by pretending to attack his ribs but quickly going down to his stomach and shoving her hand under to squeeze at the adorable tummy pudge.

“Coochie coochie coo~ Who’s my ticklish little candyman?”

He arched his back, which proved fatal as that only gave her room to use her entire hand to attach to the lower gut and knead. Kevin belted out hard, boisterous laughter, his chest shaking with wheezes and small giggles in between his few seconds of respite before falling right back into it.

“NoHOhOHO aNhAhayWHERe buHUT tHehERE!” Kevin shrieked, no matter where he squirmed, it only gave her more area to follow.

She smacked her lips together, “Oh poor, Kevin~ Do you want me to tickle you more?” he hated how she'd coo to him like that. But he adored it all at the same time, he felt safe to let out all that goofy laughter spill from his lips, and before he knew it, he had nodded his head.

“Yes? Well, that’s good, my sweet, but where? Here? Or right here?” Mrs. Mulberry traveled to his navel and swirled along his walls, going from slow to fast. She traced the small of his flesh right above his pants, getting him to shudder and chortle to even shoving her hand further into his shirt to claw right below his ribcage.

Either way, Kevin was in stitches, crying all over again as the woman showed no sign of stopping her tickly torment. But what really sealed the deal was when she pulled his shirt up to expose his torso and grabbed onto the sides of his stomach.

This released his wrists from her grasp but was nervous when he tried to move them from their spot and whatever she summoned to keep him there was back, leaving his entire midsection exposed.

He couldn’t take it, being all exposed like this made him hide in the crook of his arm. She softly blew on his stomach, reveling how he squirmed and arched his back.

“Plehehease nohohoho!” He cried, squealing as she continued to tease his bare skin. She squeezed his sides to keep him still and leaned her head down. The candyman quite literally couldn’t take it, especially the ticklish buzz from the kisses she began to pepper, all from his navel to the bottom of his rib cage left him roaring.

“GAAAAHAHAHA, NAAAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

“*kiss* My my, Kevin, *chu* this tummy of yours *smack* is quite nervy, hm? *mwah*” She was especially bad with her kisses, being oh so gentle with the sensitive skin.

“St-STaHAHAHAP TAHAHLKING!” Her lips were pressed against his belly and her arms were wrapped around his back, giving her full access to speak her honey-coated voice into the sensitive flesh.

Despite the agony he was in, his nonstop thrashing and his pleas were nonexistent with how much he was laughing masking that. His heart sank as she felt her hands grapple his sides, pinning his torso. The candyman knew what this meant and with the last of his strength, shrieked, “Please don’t!” and was relieved to see the lady freeze in her tracks.

“Don’t what?”

“Tihihickle mehehe…” he giggled.

Mrs. Mulberry grinned nice and wide, “Why, that was my plan all along! How did you know, you cheeky sweetie!” she affectionately nuzzled her face into his stomach.

What she said didn’t exactly register until it was too late.

“Thahat’s not whahat I meHEHEEEEEEEEANT!” The scream that ripped from Kevin’s throat was girlish and high-pitched.

The Brit let loose the largest raspberry he had ever received right below his belly button, a sweet spot for the poor candy kid. For the next few moments, Kevin lost his mind in a whirlpool of unfiltered mirth as raspberries were blown all along his stomach. At this point, he couldn’t think straight, all he could think about was how much it tickled. His ridiculous sensitivity didn’t go unnoticed, hearing the small taunts and teases from his tormentor, both complementing and torturing him simultaneously.

But alas, he was reaching his limit yet again, dried tear stains could hardly describe his condition, his eyes continued to waterfall tears over and over again, his hair beyond a mess and a shade of red so deep it looked purple.

“Now I’ll ask one more time, who’s my ticklish little candyman?” she cooed, slowing down her tickles with only light wiggles against his sides. When he took a little too long to answer, she’d knead his stomach until he was mush again.

“IHIHI AHAHAM!” Over and over she did this until Kevin bellowed at last, feeling relieved as her hands left his body and pulled down his shirt.

“That’s right~” Her kind tone had returned and she massaged away the sensations.

Kevin was exhausted, sweat sticking to his skin. She rubbed comforting circles around the sides of his stomach before taking her time to button his work shirt up again.

After a few minutes of comforting rubs, Mrs. Mulberry pulled Kevin in her arms and began to cradle him like a toddler. It was unexpected but he wasn’t complaining, it felt amazing.

She put her English accent to good use, now using it to hum a beautiful melody as she rocked him, it had the noirette slack in her arms already. In the midst of her song, she would stop to momentarily kiss the tip of his nose and forehead, no longer filled with the desire to torment but the need to tranquilize.

He nuzzled his face into her chest, inhaling deeply to fully relax. Kevin blushed, she smelled so nice and he couldn’t help but nuzzle a little deeper. His nostrils were filled with vanilla and rose, the scent only a mother would have. She was petting his soft hair with one hand while holding him with dear affection in her arm.

“H-hey…ma’am?”

“Yes, darling?”

Before he could fall asleep, he slurred out his final words.

“Thank you.”

He passed out, falling limp and in his own sense of tranquility.

Mrs. Mulberry admired his features, threading her fingers in his hair and massaging his scalp.

“You are the most precious, Kevin…”

She pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear and everything went black.

…

Kevin woke up the next day to the sun hitting him in the face, the gold brightening the room despite the blindes. He went to stand up from the couch, questioning how he’d gotten here when he clearly remembered heading straight to bed.

The direct contact with his feet to the floor startled the ravenette, he usually had socks on to cover up his-

Looking down to see his paws fully exposed made him remember a wave of memories and it didn’t take long for him to get flustered. He looked around, realizing that his guest had long since departed. He couldn’t help but feel lonely without her, her embrace was so warm. But something shiny had caught the corner of his eye and looked over to see the elegant wine glass she held the night before was sitting there, untouched and gleaming in the sunshine.

Next to it had a bottle of wine, a brand he’d never heard of but it looked expensive. The bottle had a yellow sticky note stuck to it. Kevin peeled it off and read what was on it, before groaning in embarrassment yet grinning.

“Ticklish little candyman”

Mrs. Mulberry

He didn’t mind the new nickname.

✿

Fin~

#sm tickles #oc tickling #lee kevin #ler kevin #lee mrs mulberry #tickle monster #my fic #tickle fic #spooky month #oc #sorry for the late upload been busy with shit #hope you like it cuz I certainly did 😁

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