#its hard to see but there are real bugs all over the doll

[cheddar-baby]

Remembered this triptych of poems i made about ghosts and decided why not share it and the photo of the doll i made to go along with it.

[cherryxsapphic]

Mother Gooseberry babying/coddling y/n headcanons! Pretty please 🥺 I want to feel tiny

Absolutely!! Love bug ♡

to be honest with you, I've been really obsessed with outlast trials lately and has been playing non stop recently, because I wanna get to the second catalog!!

Warnings: blood, gore, injury, basic outlast stuff

→ you were certainly new to the trials pretty much stepping on every trap you could possibly find. Even though you didn't do it on purpose. It's just every time you would run from an enemy a trap would somehow be in front of you and you know what happens next. and also you got bullied a lot by the enemies, especially the giants and Coyle and also Franco. (broskis in his widowmaker era hitting me from across the map😔)

→ but anyways, when it came to Mother gooseberey, she was such a breath of fresh air. There was something about her that generally comforted you, as sick and twisted as that may be considering that she chases you around with a drill that is her father and has a real yapping problem and probably should be locked up for life if he wasn't actually dead rip. (We love him tho) but his daughter adores you and has pretty much made it in her brain that you're her baby, and that when she catches you you won't be able to escape from her grip!!

→ ok, and once she has you, you are literally spoiled with affection, it's everything from smooches, her literally carrying you, which is insane, considering she has only one free hand/arm, Her other arm is amputated and has the drill obviously. So, like, imagine, she's holding you with one arm, ok? both of your hands around her neck and you're just curled up in her side, and she just casually carrying you like its nothing.

→ so basically any affection that you could possibly think of she gives it to you, unless she's not capable of it of course. But she tries and also she has a tendency of hugging you so hard that you have to tell her that you need to breathe but ya know you'll be fine.

→ also, another scenario I'd like to imagine is, ok, imagine you're on that fancy bed that we all first see when we do the tutorial, for the very first part of the game. The exact same fancy bed that we have to hide under because of the psychosis dude. Ok, so Mother Gooseberry is laying down you're on top of her, your face is in her neck or in her shoulder/chest. Her hand on your back, and you're just essentially laying on top of her on your stomach, and you're just curled up, and she's rubbing your back and let me tell you, you had the best sleep you ever had since you made it to this facility.

→ also another thing I'd like to mention she is very over protective and possessive of you obviously your her baby, her little Angel that could do no wrong essentially. if you get injured somehow like really bad, bleeding, gash, basically the most horrendous thing that you could possibly think of or whether someone mess with you or you got hurt while just exploring the orphans/mansion (because who wouldn't) Phyllis thy Futterman will be drilling a bitch and who knows you might be able to watch her put a cute new face on one of her dolls/latest victims 🥰 (if your into that ofc)

→ and if your injured, she would gently bandage you up and if you ask nicely, she might even kiss it better. Also another thing, even Dr. Futterman went off the chain, even though he's been in bag jail alot for insulting you. Phyllis says he cares deep down, but whether that's true we'll never know.

Hi!! so if you made it this far, thank you!! I know I pretty much Yapped the whole entire time but I hope y'all enjoyed it!!

And also whoever requested this, I hope you like it and that it's up to your standards. ♡

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Holy crap I’m loving your writing! Im especially obsessed with Ken and the ranch owner

I’m wondering if you’d be willing to do an fem human reader x Ken where the reader gets a bit sick, nothing too serious but Ken absolutely freaks out and thinks the reader is dying or sum (he learned about death from Stero Barbie. Also spiders. He’s terrified of both) and the reader thinks it’s a bit funny so she’s like “yeah I’m dying” but then he gives her the most terrified and sad kicked puppy look and she has to explain that it’s just a cold lol

Awh thank you!! Im glad that ppl still love my barbie movie stuff even though barbie summer has come and gone 💔

........

There were only two things that Ken feared after beginning his new life in the Real World:

One is the mortality of humans, as Barbie told him all about how fragile their lives were and the two paths they were given: either growing old and dying peacefully in their beds, or some terrible occurrence cutting it short long before their time on this earth was up.

The second was spiders.

He especially hated the spiders.

You only recently discovered he had that fear after finding one of those 8-legged critters in your house--or more specifically in his room, where he came barreling out from as though he accidentally set something on fire.

At first, you thought he really did start a fire until he dragged you back into there, begging you to get rid of the "strange beast".

You had no clue what he could possibly be referring to....and then he pointed to the corner, where a little cellar spider sat completely unbothered, weaving its web.

In that moment, you realized you may have turned him arachnophobic, considering you did show him one insect-themed horror movie this past Halloween. He kept freaking out over it potentially growing horse-sized or injecting venom into his bloodstream when he was asleep.

But despite you assuring him neither of those things could happen (and insisting that the spider was more afraid of him), Ken refused to go into the room until it was gone.

You find it hard to fathom that this same doll who led an entire revolt, came to terms with his own identity crisis, and bravely made the transition to humanity....was totally inconsolable in the presence of a tiny bug.

Then again, maybe showing him that movie--and allowing Barbie to explain why arachnophobia was among the top fears humans had--was a huge mistake.

Regardless, you made it your mission to get rid of the critter.

Oddly enough Ken insisted that you didn't actually kill it, but you found you it sweet that he valued its life despite it scaring the shit out of him. So you contained it in a cup, putting a napkin underneath it before releasing it outside.

After that, you mentioned how most people usually killed spiders and other pests that invaded their home.

He looked wildly uncomfortable at that fact, before he began talking about some rather... concerning things: like if the spider knew how short its lifespan was, how easily it could have been crushed, if it feared death or if it was even aware of it at all-

Before he could derail and start rambling about death itself too much, you stopped him, asking if he was feeling alright.

And he went quiet for a moment, before smiling and giving you a kiss, reassuring you he felt better.

Yet even as he left the room, he still appeared awful tense.

It was that day where you worried that it's more than just spiders he feared..

.......

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you sick??"

"...unfortunately, but it's nothing serious. Just a stupid cold I caught at work." Sighing tiredly, you sat up in bed, seeing Ken walk into the room.

He looked nothing short of horrified at how drained and exhausted you sounded this morning. "A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I don't want you to catch anything, so I'm sorry...but no kisses today."

"Then..what about tomorrow?"

You just rolled your eyes, drinking some tea you made for yourself. "Maybe, but we'll see if I wake up."

Although it was meant to be a little joke, your foggy brain forgot how seriously the blond often took jokes, and he rushed to your bedside, kneeling down.

His eyes were wide as he took your hand. "If you wake up??? Are you dying??"

Putting down your mug, you sighed once more, trying to figure out a way to remedy this situation before you upset him too much. "No....I mean I just feel like I'm dying, but.." You paused, noticing the tears coming to his eyes. "Ken?"

Now that he was a lot closer, you could see the utterly terrified look on his face--as though you kicked a puppy right in front of him.

Yep, it was already much too late. He was upset.

"I-I know tomorrow is not guaranteed for anyone, but you have to get through this, [y/n]! Please..I can't lose you, too...not when you've done so much to help me." He was extremely close to crying, his lips trembling.

Your heart sunk as you placed a hand ober his own. "Oh honey, I was only kidding around when I say-"

"Why do humans joke about death so much? Don't they know y-you...you can't come back? That they have such short lives?? O-Or sure, some believe you can be reincarnated but that doesn't make it any-"

At this point, he was just blubbering nonsense, so you took him into your arms. And for a moment he fell silent, before burying his face into your chest, trying to calm himself down. "I-I'm sorry.."

"No, no..I'm sorry. You're right..I shouldn't be joking about death around you." Frowning slightly, you stroked his hair. "I promise I'm not dying. Not today, or tomorrow..not for a long, long time. This cold will pass and I'll feel better soon enough."

".....a-are these the irrepressible thoughts of death Barbie had?"

'Oh.'

It finally hit you.

He was going through the same thing she once did.

"Ken.." You had him sit up so you could see his face. Aside from it being a little red and his eyes puffy and watery, there were tear marks trailing down to the stubble that had formed along his jaw and chin. "Why didn't you tell me you were having those thoughts?"

Sniffling, he just shrugged. "I don't know. And... I don't know why I'm thinking them. Barbie could blame it on somebody who was playing with her, but...I can't. Because I'm not a doll anymore, I'm human....a-and...those were my thoughts alone." He shuddered, terrified at that realization. "I guess I just..didn't wanna scare you, b-but obviously it's too late for that..."

A small chuckle came from him, although it dissolved into a small sob as he wiped his eyes. "S-Sorry, I....I want these thoughts to just pass already."

"And they will." You nodded, squeezing his free hand reassuringly. "It looks like you're just experiencing them for the first time, and that's okay. They won't be all you think about. And you don't have to apologize for how you're feeling, as long as you're honest with me."

"Th-Thank you.." He sniffled. "I should be taking care of you, not the other way around. Do you need you anything? More tea? Meds? Anything at all?"

You smiled fondly, leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. "You're all I need right now, sweetheart."

That response seemed to bring Ken's giddy old self back, as he smiled bashfully in return. He melted back into your arms when you wrapped them around him, and he listened to your heartbeat: the only assurance he needed that you were still living.

Eventually...those thoughts of death did pass him by, and he felt okay again.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for abandoning my WIP?

Hello everyone! You'll have to forgive me if this is a bit awkward... I am a writer and cosplayer, but nonfiction is really not one of my talents!

So umm... I started this project, some months ago. A real masterpiece! You see, I'm actually pretty internet-famous for my earlier works, so this time I tried something a bit more... exciting. To raise the stakes and add to the delicious drama of it all, I decided this latest project would use real people.

Aaaah, and they were absolutely perfect! I wrote up incredible backstories for them all, and I even added an artificial intelligence unit that my best friend put together for a touch of extra realism (the illusion of an audience was crucial for this project, so the AI predicted "votes" and "chat responses" based on commentary on my previous projects)! Then, finally, I wiped their memories and replaced them with my own writing, set them up in my ultimate fictional world, and watched their real, authentic decisions play out! I, and my best friend, participated in this project, but I did have to wipe her memory along with everyone else's... or else she'd remember building this virtual world machine! And that just wouldn't do.

So, well.... The first few tries were a little bothersome to work with. No matter how hard I tried to tweak their personalities and give them motives, they always ran out of time and left me having to reset! But, ah... I knew from the start that working with real dolls would have its challenges. That's where the stakes are! If I could just overcome this, it would be the best death game ever written!

So eventually, when my beloved first protagonist actually made an attempt to kill... and failed... I stepped in and finished the job. Just a little bug in the system, not a big deal. And from there, it was absolutely perfect! Death after death after death, everything lining up exactly as it should. The perfect drama, the perfect despair, exactly as it should be!

I continued to moderate from within the game, and luckily, no one even tried to kill me! Though, my self-insert was simply a boring old plain jane, so it's not exactly surprising....

There were a few tough spots... and right when I thought the project was tying itself up for a beautiful finish, one of my players somehow ended up convincing the AI to release us, and send us back to reality.

Now... everyone is quite mad at me for placing them in my incredible fictional reality. None of them are certain who they are, or which of their memories are real, and normally I would simply overwrite their memory and start over again, but... here is where I might be TA....

I believe that one of the characters I've written, as played by a very beautiful and talented person, has taken my heart. She was one of the first to be killed, but instead of anger like everyone else, she held my face and told me that her god has forgiven my sins!

Aaaah! I can't help but squee just thinking of it! How can one person be so talented, so beautiful, so charming?! The way I'm feeling, I might as well be a yuri protagonist!

So, well... now I'm reluctant to start over. This girl is technically a character of my own creation, or at least her memories are. But after so much effort, and sacrifice, and torment endured by the other 14 participants... WIBTA if I give up on my project to elope with this girl?? She wants to lead a cult in my name, which I find just sooooooo romantic and hard to turn down!! But should I instead press onwards, and continue writing my perfect story??

[submitted by @mx-shingujis based on a canon-deviant au fic idea that I will probably never get around to writing!]

[therottenkingsreckoning]

As it turns out, writing the sections after the big reveal are significantly harder. Nevertheless, I have completed another chapter for you, and have plans for many more!

As bonus, I'll also add at the bottom the lil clipart that inspired the Emperor's Treasure. Nothing special, but I might as well include it.

Enjoy!

~Little Flame, Chapter 6~

Frank loved bugs. The shimmering beetles and bright butterflies; cute fluffy moths & beautiful, deadly mantises and hardworking ants. Even the creatures that weren't technically bugs: spiders spinning their webs, snails with their elegant spiral shells, worms crawling blissfully under the dirt. As much as he loved studying them, they loved to catch them even more, the thrill of the hunt and the joy of exploring all in one. It was his favorite thing to do.

And today was the perfect day for it.

Net in hand, they scanned the horizon, eyes landing on the shimmer of a beetle's wings amongst the leaves. A pretty thing, orange and blue and white, as yet unaware of the approaching scientist. Slowly creeping forward from a crouched position, he took the swing and-

WHAP!

"Gotcha!" Frank shouted triumphantly, holding the scuttling insect inside their net. Quickly scooping it into a jar, he stood up, hissing and groaning as their joints protested the movement. "Oof, I'll have to get used to that," he said, hand on the growing belly that stuck out of their shirt. "You make this hard to do right now."

He was about 20 weeks in by now, Frank had kept track of that. Both for their own love of organized notes and with the encouragement of Jaya, who was naturally eager to be kept abreast of his health and the baby's. My baby, he thought contentedly. They still couldn't believe that it was actually true. All those daydreams & what-ifs, all the things he'd only imagined they'd ever have- all of that was real now. He had a home to call their own, a bunch of friends, a husband to love and who loved them back. And soon, a family.

"daydreamin' love?" A familar voice piped up from behind him, the mailman stepping off the road to stand beside them in the shade of the trees.

"Eddie!" Frank exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise. You're not normally over in this part of the woods."

"Well, thought I'd drop by and see how you're doin'," Eddie said with a chuckle. "Even if it does mean being in the... buggy part of town."

"Aww, my brave man," Frank teased, kissing him sweetly. "You don't need to worry about me sweetheart, I'm doing fine. Just, well, thinking about our little one."

"I still can't believe that's true!" Eddie said, "I'm gonna be a daddy soon." He pulled his mate into a careful hug, the cautious, floaty grasp he'd been doing for several weeks.

Frank let out a huff, making the concious effort to squeeze him tighter. "Oh honestly, you treat me like I'm some china doll right now. I promise I won't break if you hug me. I'm stronger than that."

Eddie broke away and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I-I know that's probably true," he said. "But Poppy told me..."

"Poppy worries," Frank stated matter-of-factly. "She worries constantly about everything. Last thing I need right now is both of y-"

He froze, eyes wide as a flash of color suddenly appeared over their husband's shoulder. There was no mistaking it: the rosy and curlicued wings of an Emperor's Treasure.

On instinct they crouched down low, motioning Eddie to do the same. "I never thought I'd see one in person," they breathed in awe. "They're so rare!"

Eddie turned to look at what was so important behind him, then carefully crept out of range of mate, chuckling softly. He knew what was about to happen.

Slowly, cautiously, Frank raised their net. This was it. The prized jewel of their collection, the one he'd longed for for ages. If they could just catch this one, all his dreams would come true. They tensed his muscles, aimed and-

WHAP!

The net hit empty tree bark, its prey fluttering quickly off to settle on a different branch.

"Aww, ya almost had it!" Eddie laughed, starting to rise from his spot. "You'll get it next-"

WHAP!

Another miss. The butterfly flew higher now into the branches of the tree, seeming almost to mock Frank with its refusal to run away entirely. They started to reach up, preparing to climb, but a hand on his shoulder stopped them. "H-hey now darlin," Eddie started, all laughter suddenly gone from his voice, "please don't be climbin' things right now. I know you want it, but that's really not-"

Frank shrugged him off without a word. Their mind was a lazer beam of focus at this moment, a frenzied loop of the single desire to catch. that. bug. he scaled up, net in mouth until they reached a point where he could swing, the butterfly so close that he could practically already feel it in their hands. Releasing one hand from the branch it was holding, he began to pull the net from their mouth, preparing to take his shot.

It might've been the strange position he was in, the unaccustomed added weight put on a single branch admittedly just a bit too small to support it. But suddenly, with a horrid CRACK the branch splintered and broke, the scientist letting out a yelp of shock that was drowned out by Eddie's scream of "FRANK!!!"

Wind rushed out of Frank's lungs as they collided with something on the ground. Or rather, two somethings, those being the arms of his husband who had dove to catch them. "Frank..." Eddie grumbled, not yet looking up from where his face had hit the dirt.

Above, the butterfly soared on, its brilliant pink hues disappearing into the sky. "Oh, hurry!" Frank exclaimed, reaching around for his net. "There's still time, I can-"

"Frank."

"Just gotta-"

"FRANK YA AIN'T LISTENIN' TO ME!!!!"

Frank paused, hand still reaching out towards the net. It wasn't just the sudden shout- a thing Eddie rarely did at all- but the undeniable note of pain inside his words. They turned to look at him, and as they'd suspected he was...crying, fear and anger and grief plain to read on his face.

"Eddie..."

He sniffled. "I love you. I... Frank, I love you both so much." His voice was small and fragile now, his hand laid over his partner's belly. "Can't begin to tell ya...how happy being a father makes me."

Frank carefully put a hand over their love's, looking into his teary eyes.

"And..." the man continued, "I don't...I don't know what I'd do if I lost either of ya. And I know ya think I'm overreactin', I know ya think it doesn't matter, but...p-please...please just..."

"Ok."

Eddie looked up at this, and met Frank's eyes which themselves were now brimming with tears. Gently cupping his face with a hand, they went on. "I'm sorry. You're right, I wasn't considering you or the baby at all. That's not fair to you."

They sighed. "And you're right. Much...much as I hate to admit it, I do need to be more careful now. At least until the baby's born." He straightened up and said "from now on, no more catching bugs."

Eddie chuckled weakly, wiping the tears from his eyes. "W-well, I wouldn't go that far. I just don't want ya climbin' trees about it or nothin'."

"Ah."

"I wouldn't be that mean." he pulled his mate into another hug this time, squeezing tighter than before although he was still taking care not to press too tight.

"You're not mean," Frank huffed gently, leaning gratefully into the embrace. "I get it, you do it because you love us."

They kissed him. "And we love you too."

[opheliajupiter99]

Lil' Gid - A Fanfic to go with my voodoo doll Gid art

(Not sure when in the timeline this'll take place. Also I know I've done like, seven posts in two days but damnit, had a lot of inspiration lately lol)

It was a remarkably quiet night, for once, in the fetid swamp that surrounded the Inn at the End of the Road. Bugs buzzed about and the murky water bubbled, little frogs bouncing from lily pad to lily pad and ribbited as they went along their merry ways, some hoping in pairs and others alone. It was calm, peaceful even, which even in the safe areas of the Feywild wasn't exactly common.

A sudden, albeit small, noise cut through the silence though. Wet soil crumbled and cracked away as a small, cloth hand bust up from beneath the earth, a few fireflies buzzing out of the way in surprise as the tiny figure clawed its way free of the muck. As it crawled out from the soil, the area around it was illuminated by a soft, flickering light.

The little figure was a red cloth doll, a pair of large dark grey buttons sewn in place of eyes, and a stitched smile along its face. The flickering light came from the bundle of pitch-black string tied to the top of its head, as if it were hair, and while it was indeed merely string, the potent magic that gave the doll life in turn set its mop of string hair ablaze.

As the doll moved forward, the little metal chains that were shackled to both of its arms dragged along the ground, leaving marks in the mud and occasionally grinding against pebbles that were stuck amongst the muck. It had only one article of clothing; that being the black and red pair of overalls and suspenders, stitched quite expertly and of the same quality leather that real version wore, and upon its revealed chest was a stitched black heart, put precisely where one's heart resided to indicate where to land a lethal blow.

The doll took a moment to brush itself off, patting away bits of grime with its mitt-like hands, before turning its gaze towards the inn. It wasn't too far away; there was no need to emerge at a distance when there was soil all over the place, especially given it was so small that even a short distance could take forever to travel. It waddled its way up to the wall of the inn, looking WAY up towards the window, pondering to itself silently why even living voodoo dolls had to be barely a foot tall. It thought for a moment how to get up, then looked down to the chains on its wrist, and got an idea. It swung the little chains up; it took a few tries, but it managed to hook onto a crooked piece of chipped wood and began to pull itself up.

Sometime later, Kremy laid in bed in his room, his hat gingerly placed upon the bedside table, his arms curled up and supporting his head. He was having a hard time getting to sleep, truth be told - something about tonight just felt...off. He hadn't heard jazz, and things weren't anymore misty than they usually were outside, and beyond Gid's room he hadn't smelt any cigar smoke, so he figured he was just being paranoid, but even still, he couldn't quite settle his nerves.

He was suddenly startled by the sound of something metal rapping against the window, several clack-clacks in quick succession. He tensed instantly at the sound, his fists clenching instinctively. That...was metal; not a bird's beak, not a pebble tossed, not a fingernail knocking, that was -metal-. He again tried to convince himself he was just being paranoid, but even an expert lie couldn't make something up at this rate. Paranoia was usually a fine answer to worries, but in his case...

He sat up, and after a few deep breaths, slowly turned his head to look towards the window. He didn't see anything at first, but after a moment of staring, a flickering light came into view, illuminating the foggy darkness beyond the glass, quickly followed by a pair of button eyes, and even though there were no pupils, he could just -feel- that the doll was looking at him specifically. Normally, seeing a little ragdoll that's barely a foot tall in a window would be at most creepy, and at least downright silly, but for Kremy, that sight was enough to plummet his heart right down his gullet.

Kremy sat there for what was probably just a few seconds, maybe a minute, but what felt like forever, just staring wide eyed at the doll as it climbed up further into view, until it fully stood in the windowsill, staring at him with that stitched little smile. Kremy just...kept on staring, a million thoughts racing through his mind in a contained, but very, very real panic.

What had he done? Had more time passed than he expected and he'd already run out of time on his debts? But if that was the case, why couldn't hear the telltale ominous jazz? Why wasn't an eerie fog filling his bedroom? Why wasn't there the heavy scent of cigars and rum? He supposed the Baron could be trying to be subtle - but why in the hell would the Baron of all Loa want to be subtle? Usually when the Baron took a soul you could tell from the next town over; he was just too theatrical to not make it into a big production.

The doll rapped its chains against the window once more, pulling Kremy from his thoughts. The doll made a lifting motion with its stubby arms, indicating him to open it up. After a bit of hesitation, Kremy moved up oit of bed and towards the window, lifting it open, half-expecting a skeletal hand to jut out of nowhere and drag him away. That didn't happen, however, instead the doll simply hopped off onto the floor at his feet, staring up at the man in an almost expectant fashion.

"Look...I dunno why you're here, but if I've done anythin' wrong, I swear I can make up for it." The doll shook its head, leaving Kremy even more perplexed than he already was. "So...why the fuck ya here then?" The doll looked about for a moment, then waddled over to a small worn crayon near the bedside table, likely left behind by Hootsie when she'd came scampering in after a nightmare earlier that night. It picked it up, having to use both hands since it lacked fingers, and moved over to the wall, beginning to write upon it clumsily. It wrote 'HeLp' upon the wall, then turned towards Kremy and pointed to him.

"...The Baron, sent ya to help me?" The doll nodded enthusiastically. Kremy let out a deep breath of relief he'd been holding since the first knock upon the window came, putting a hand to his face. "Oh thank the fuckin' gods...ya scared the shit outta me, lil' man." He said with a chuckle, the doll putting a hand to its mouth in a silent chuckle of its own. "Well uh...shit. Wasn't exactly expectin' company but...ya can hang out in here, I guess? I know ya don't sleep but, ya can chill in here til mornin', then I'll tell the others about ya, okay?" The doll nodded, then held up its hands joyfully as if to say 'uppies!'. Kremy sighed with another chuckle and carefully picked the little doll up, the stitched smile upon its face seeming much more genuine now.

[voraciousvore]

In the Belly of the Giant (20/39)

***Contains hard vore and soft vore***

Chapter 20

Mr. Henderson lumbered along the sidewalks on the school grounds. As usual, he towered over everyone with his great height, even the giant students. The humans scampered away from his giant shoes like small bugs and hid in the grass, afraid. He moved with purpose toward his destination: the human dormitory. The tremendous crashes of his footsteps shook the earth and vibrated the miniature building to its foundation. He got down on his knees and lifted open the roof on its hinges. He heard tiny screams inside as the humans scrambled to escape. However, he scooted forward and blocked the only exit, the front door, with his knee so they couldn’t get out. He observed with amusement their turmoil as they bounced around frantically inside the confined space like scattered ants. 

The hungry giant reached inside and gleefully snatched up his first victim, a short little girl. She cried and pleaded for him to spare her as he raised her up to his lips and pushed her inside his drooling mouth with his finger. He crunched down on her with his teeth and chewed her up before gulping down her broken body. He grabbed the next human, licked the blood off his teeth, and shoved her inside his maw. He swallowed this one down whole, and could feel her legs kicking as she plummeted headfirst down his throat. He seized a whole handful of human students and shoveled them in all at once, breaking their bones into splinters and their flesh into pulp with the powerful chewing movements of his jaws. After he ate them, he feasted on every last human in the building, popping them one by one in his mouth like popcorn and gobbling them up. He rubbed his bulging belly with satisfaction as the humans still living writhed within. 

Just when he thought he had ingested all of them, and moved to close the roof, he saw a pair of blue eyes, like the eyes of a doll, staring up at him. He had missed one. He pinched her between his fingers and dangled her high in the air, above his head. He tasted her with a lick of his tongue before engulfing her in his mouth. She didn’t cry or scream, and stayed quiet as she slipped down his throat and splashed into his stomach to join the others in digestion. 

Mr. Henderson awakened from his nightmare in a cold sweat, feeling worse than ever. While he was relieved to find he was only dreaming, he recognized that his real-life situation had only deteriorated from the prior day. He was still obnoxiously hungry, having thrown up his dinner last night. His daughter was still missing. And now he had a bite-sized human in his home that he had to worry about. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his clammy forehead with a sigh. On the bright side, the welt on his head was less swollen today and had stopped bleeding. 

As much as it pained and humiliated him, he realized he’d have to do the right thing, for the human’s safety. He couldn’t afford to have her around if there was a risk that he would give in to temptation and consume her. He owed it to her to explain to her the truth, even if he scared her, and politely rescind his offer for her to stay in his home. 

He felt sick inside, knowing she had nowhere to go, and she’d be cast out into the giant streets again to suffer. But, on the other hand, she’d be alive. She wouldn’t have a frightening ogre like him hovering over her, lips soaked in saliva with the anticipation of devouring her. The mental image made him lick his lips nervously. His nightmare was still vivid in his imagination. 

If he were honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he could man up and tell her his appalling secret. He’d never told anyone, least of all a vulnerable human. The thought of how she’d react turned his stomach. She’d probably be terrified of him, look up at him like some sort of grotesque monster. She’d see him for what he truly was: a giant, bloodthirsty predator. She’d likely run away from him, screaming. Maybe faint again. He was overwhelmed with sadness. He didn’t have much of a choice though. If he cared about her in the least, he had to confess his sin to her. 

Resolved, he moved to get out of bed before he lost his nerve. He didn’t want to lay in bed all day again, wallowing in depression, especially when he had a small guest to tend to. He sighed and sleepily hauled his feet to the floor, about to stand up. A startled exclamation from the carpet made him freeze. He looked down, afraid at what he would see, to behold the miniscule human cowering between his giant bare feet. He realized with horror he had almost inadvertently stepped on her. His face grew hot with embarrassment. 

“S-sorry!” he stuttered. “I didn’t know you were there.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Um… why are you here anyways? Is everything okay? Do you need something?” He felt even more awkward when he recalled she wasn’t the most loquacious, and in all likelihood wouldn’t be able to answer his questions. 

She craned her neck back to gaze up at him with those striking blue eyes of hers. To his surprise, she opened her mouth and chirped something. Whatever she uttered was too quiet for him to hear. He crouched forward, casting a shadow over her. He realized with regret how intimidating he must look, a colossal being looming above her. Slowly, so as not to scare her, he reached his long arm to the ground and offered her his palm. He was even more surprised to see her, without hesitation, scamper into his hand and sit down. He carefully raised her up and placed her on his pillow so she would be comfortable, then laid down and rested his head on the pillow so he could see her better. 

When he got a closer look at her, he was stunned to see how different she looked. In fact, he hardly recognized her. She had taken advantage of the luxury of a human-sized bathroom to take a shower and wash off all the grime that hid her appearance. She had discarded her makeshift clothes in favor of borrowing some of Eren’s, which draped loosely on her emaciated frame. Her light brown hair was still brittle and lacking luster from poor nutrition, but no longer ratty and tangled. She was radiant, like a miniature angel. 

“Wow… you’re lovely…” Mr. Henderson found himself saying, before he considered whether speaking such words out loud would be wise. She flushed and smiled shyly. He could feel a tint of pink on his cheeks too. He felt a pang of regret as he realized he was going to have to ruin her life, just when things were turning around for her. 

Procrastinating the inevitable, he moistened his lips with his tongue and asked her, “I wasn’t able to hear what you said earlier, when you were on the floor. Would it be too much for you to repeat yourself?” 

Her smile faded, and her eyes seemed to glisten a bit with excess moisture. She opened her mouth to speak and stood gaping, with no sound. She finally uttered, in a hoarse whisper, “I… I…” She struggled to finish. Mr. Henderson didn’t move a muscle as he waited. He knew she could speak, if she tried. She looked again into his warm coffee eyes and found the strength she needed. “I’m… lonely…” she choked out just above a whisper. Her eyes filled up with tears. “I’ve been alone… for so long…” 

Mr. Henderson felt like his heart would break, witnessing her distress. Here he was, planning to kick her out, and she had nobody else in the world to help her. He didn’t have it in him to be so cruel. He lifted up his arms timidly to the pillow and gently cradled her in his hands. She hugged his fingers and cried. He drew her in until she was pressed up against his immense chest. His touch seemed to soothe her. He stroked her gently. 

“You… remind me…” She spoke haltingly, her quiet voice cracking. “My husband… he was killed…” She cried harder. Mr. Henderson finally began to understand her behavior. That’s why she seemed to be so drawn to him, to trust him so quickly. Somehow, he was reminiscent of her dead husband, despite being a giant. She was a grieving widow; she must’ve seen something terrible happen to him. 

He refrained from speaking and allowed her to cry out her feelings, holding her closely. He needed to set the record straight and tell her the truth, as difficult as it may be, but he figured he could wait until she was calmer. Her tears gradually subsided into hiccups until she was breathing normally again, her body no longer wracked by sobs. She pressed herself harder into his chest, gripping his nightshirt in her fists. He exhaled slowly. 

“Listen…” he began as he looked down at her fragile body encapsulated in his hand. “I’m not… I mean…” He selected his words carefully. “I understand you miss your husband. I’m sorry for your loss. But I’m not the same person.” She sniffled and nodded, indicating she understood that fact all too well. 

He sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. “There’s something I need to tell you… about me. Something important.” She looked up at him, her crystal blue eyes full of innocence. She had no idea what was coming. His guts grumbled audibly and she trembled slightly in his hand. This really, really wasn’t going to be easy. He sighed again. “I…” He stopped, his words hitching in his throat. 

His tongue went dry and stuck to the roof of his mouth. Now he was the one having trouble speaking. His shame and self-loathing threatened to overcome him. She was going to panic, surrounded by his hand and trapped on his bed when he told her. But he needed to tell her, to protect her; he knew that. His burden was becoming too much for him to bear. He closed his eyes and ordered his thoughts. He just had to say it: Just spit it out, without thinking about the consequences. He opened his eyes again. 

“You’re not safe here, with me,” he confessed. She gave him a confused look. He forced himself to continue, as much as it hurt. “I… have cravings. Strong, primal cravings, to eat humans.” Her eyes widened. She was plainly bewildered, but stayed frozen in his hand. “It’s not that I actually want to, but I’m scared if you stay here I won’t be able to control myself, and I’ll…” He gulped. Tears started to prick the corners of his eyes. He raised his voice as the strong feelings he had been holding back for so long poured out of him. “I didn’t choose to be this way! I don’t want to be a monster! I have a human daughter, for crying out loud! I’m a principal at a school with human students!” She cringed in his hand at the volume of his vocalizations. “I hate myself!” 

Strangely enough, despite the circumstances, the giant felt better after confessing his deepest secret, as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest. He studied the tiny woman for a reaction, expecting her to become frightened, or faint, or run away. But she stubbornly stayed in his hand. When she could see he was done letting it all out, she quietly spoke, in that distinctive halting way of hers. “Is that… why you threw up? Last night?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I had some unpleasant thoughts about eating you, and I couldn’t keep my food down. I haven’t been able to eat or keep food down for a couple days now.” 

“So… if the mere thought of eating a human… makes you vomit… what makes you think you’ll actually be capable of eating one? Have you ever? On purpose, with malicious intent?” Her speech was beginning to flow smoother, the more she talked. 

Mr. Henderson blinked. He hadn’t thought about his problem that way. “No. I’ve never voluntarily eaten and killed a human.” 

“Never eaten… a student at your school? Or your daughter? Despite living with her?” she asked. 

“Of course not!” he answered with indignation. The very concept was offensive to him. He had never even been tempted to eat Eren. 

“I’ve been… eaten before,” she said. Her speech faltered and broke at the recollection. Mr. Henderson was horrified. “Giants… that are evil and cruel… you can see it… in their eyes. You don’t have it in you to eat anyone. Your eyes… are kind. Like my husband’s.” She smiled at him. “Even if you tried to swallow me… you’d just throw up anyway.” She had a point. He suddenly felt much better, despite the aching emptiness in his belly. 

“Why don’t we… try eating breakfast?” she suggested. “I’m hungry. Maybe… you’ll be okay this time.” 

Mr. Henderson agreed and stood up, keeping the human close to his torso. He carried her to the kitchen, thinking deeply. This little human amazed him more than he could have ever imagined. He assumed she’d be terrified of him after his dark confession, but she completely subverted his expectations. She had admirable perceptive abilities and laudable resilience. He supposed she would have to, in order to survive whatever horrors she had undergone. The fact that she had been eaten before truly horrified him; he couldn’t imagine such a petrifying experience. He was even more curious about her now, but didn’t want to upset her by asking her invasive questions and dredging up traumatic memories. She had only just started talking. He figured if she decided to share her life story she would tell him when she was ready. 

He felt a lot better after talking to her. His fears, bottled up inside him, had magnified into an insurmountable obstacle in his mind. Her logic had made him realize his terrors were largely irrational, a manifestation of his guilt and self-hatred, more phantasm than reality. He still suffered temptation, but he suspected he wouldn’t throw up this time if he ate normal food. Eating food wasn’t immoral, obviously. He knew that. 

They went into the kitchen. Mr. Henderson decided to try something easy and light, like cereal. He still had one of Eren's human-sized boxes of cereal, which he handed to the woman along with a miniscule bowl and spoon, careful not to crush the items between his fingers. He poured himself a larger bowl of cereal and gave her some milk using the smallest measuring spoon that he owned. 

As she eagerly dug into her cereal, Mr. Henderson stared at his own bowl, his stomach churning. His colorful imagination was working against him again. He pictured the little woman floundering in his milk, surrounded by flakes. His giant spoon hovered idly above the bowl. She was small enough to fit inside the curved end. He could easily scoop her up, slide her through his lips, and slurp her up. Yet again, he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He felt paralyzed. 

The woman finished her cereal and noticed he hadn’t even started eating his. She walked over to one of his hands, which was resting on the table, and patted his finger. “Go ahead,” she said soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re hungry. Take a bite.” 

He glanced over at her, feeling a warmth inside that calmed his nerves. He dipped the spoon in the bowl and brought it up to his lips. Hesitantly, he allowed the spoon to enter the threshold of his mouth. His teeth clinked against the metal as he accepted the mouthful of cereal and removed the empty spoon. He swallowed. His belly revolted a bit, but he kept the food down. He uncertainly took another spoonful and ate it. And another. Bit by bit, he downed the cereal until the bowl emptied out. During the whole process, the human continued to rub his knuckle with her hand and talk him through it. He was able to stomach the entire meal without vomiting. 

The giant slumped in his chair with relief. He hadn’t realized how tense his body had been while eating. He finally did it; he had vanquished his imaginary foe. He felt so much better, both mentally and physically. The burning in his belly was gone, replaced by a pleasurable fullness. Now he just had to fatten himself up until he was back to a normal state of mind. He looked down at the human gratefully.  

“Thank you,” he said softly. “You’ve helped me so much.” She lit up with joy. “By the way, now that I can finally talk to you, what’s your name?” he asked her. 

She beamed. “I’m Millie.” 

Chapter 21

Chapter 1

[tuiccim]

Almost Had Me Believing It - Part 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader    

Word Count: 1569

Warnings: Mutual pining, smut

Summary: An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes’ wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A/N: Divider by @whimsicalrogers​

Almost Had Me Believing It Series Masterlist

A few days later you and Bucky sit at breakfast discussing how to get more information about Frank. 

“Well, we know one way I could get in his house but I’d rather chew glass.” You grouse.

“You, uh, you don’t find him attractive?” Bucky stutters.

“No. I mean, Frank’s a good looking guy, but he’s not a good person. He gives me the creeps, honestly.” You shudder. 

Bucky reins in his smile at hearing that. He hated the idea of you liking any other man. At some point while running through the meadow yesterday, he realized you weren’t afraid of him. He was chasing you and you had this glorious smile on your face. There was no fear or anxiety about you as he tackled you to the ground. You had laughed as he did it and held onto him during the ride as if you felt safe with him. It was nothing short of a miracle in Bucky’s eyes. Very few people in his life watched him approach them without some apprehension in their eyes or tension in their body and nobody looked to him as a refuge of safety but you had. He still didn’t think he deserved it but he was determined to be a safe place and friend to you. 

“He’s not like you.” You say the sentence, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts, while causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 

“Like me?” Bucky says in surprise. 

“You’re a good looking guy but you’re also good and sweet and kind. You want to help people, not destroy them, not hurt them. And you don’t give me the creeps.” You laugh lightly hoping to cover the emotions you feel towards the man in front of you. 

Bucky chuckles, “I’m glad I don’t give you the creeps.”

“Not at all.” You smile at him. 

“You’re a peach.” 

You smile at him and then the light bulb goes on over your head, “I have an idea.” You grab a large cup from the cabinet. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks. 

“Well, we are out of sugar.”

“No, we’re not. It’s right there on the counter.”

You take the container and dump it out in the trash, “Oops. As I was saying, we’re out of sugar. I’m gonna go borrow a cup from our neighbor.”

“How does that get us more information about him?”

“He’ll invite me in and I’ll plant a bug.” You say as you pull one of the devices out of your pocket.

“I’ll go with you.” Bucky says. 

“That’d look a little strange. Maybe he’ll let his guard down if I’m alone.”

“I don’t like you being alone with him.”

“I’ll be fine, Bucky. If I can take you to the mat I don't think I’ll have a problem with Frank.” You smirk at the supersoldier. Bucky gives you a nod and crosses his arms looking unhappy. “I’ll be back.” You say as you head for the door. 

Frank answers his front door within a couple of minutes and smiles, “Hey. What’s up?”

“I’ve come to beg a favor of a benevolent neighbor.” You repeat the phrase Frank had used a few days ago. 

Frank laughs, “Are you in need of coffee?”

“Sugar. I knocked the container over and lost it all on the floor. Do you have some to spare?” You keep your expression self-deprecating and sweet. 

“Of course. Come on in. I have all kinds of sugar you can have, gorgeous.” 

“I just need the white granulated kind,” you giggle as you slip past him into the house.

You follow Frank to the kitchen. He takes the cup from your hand and goes to the pantry to retrieve the sugar for you. Taking a quick assessment of the available real estate for a bug, you attach it to a space where you hope it can pick up sound in both the kitchen and living room. 

“So, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you.” Frank says as he emerges. 

“Yeah?” 

“About a job.”

“Oh! Great. Where?” You ask. 

“Do you have any bookkeeping experience?” Frank asks. 

“Yes. I worked for a couple of small offices where I doubled as the office manager as well as nurse. I’m pretty decent at that kind of thing. Where’s the job?”

“Here.”

“What?” You look at him utterly confused. 

“You know I’m a landlord and I have several properties. I need someone to do billing, take the payments, handle utilities, deal with the tenant requests. The accounting side has never been my strong suit and I added three more properties in the past year. It would just be part-time. If you're interested…”

“Part-time is exactly what I’m looking for right now. Do you want me to bring you a resume?”

“I’ll take you at your word.” Frank winks. “Why don’t you come back after lunch and I’ll have everything together for us to look at?”

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship, Frank.”

“I’m sure, gorgeous.” Frank puts an arm around your shoulders as he walks you to the door. “I’ll see you this afternoon, right?”

“Okay. Thanks, Frank.” You smile as you head back to your house. You find Bucky in the office messing with the receiver. “Is it working?”

“As soon as you attached it, I could hear everything. A job offer, huh?” Bucky raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. A lot of access that way.” You smile. 

“A lot of time alone with you.” Bucky grouses. 

“I’ll be okay, Bucky. This is good.” 

--

You had spent the afternoon with Frank going over everything with him touching you nearly constantly. Your skin crawled but you managed to play him off. His books really were a mess and you arranged to work with him for the next few afternoons to get things in order. This would afford you the opportunity to plant more bugs. Hopefully, this would also help you gain Frank’s trust and get him to eventually reveal his not so legal dealings. Bucky was unhappy with your report of the afternoon. He did not like you spending so much time alone with Frank. 

“Come here, Doll.” Bucky beckons to you from the living room.

“What’s up?” You ask. 

Bucky puts his arms around you and his hands grab your ass, “Jump.”

You wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck and jump wrapping your legs around him. Bucky presses you against the wall and you whisper, “Frank watching us?”

“Yup.” Bucky says as he presses his lips to the side of your neck. You arch your neck to give him better access. “Thought he might need another show. Don’t want him getting any ideas that you working for him is gonna get him anywhere.”

“I appreciate that.” You are desperately trying to hold in your moans as Bucky kisses your neck and your hands grasp his hair. Giving in to your own impulse, you pull his head back and meet his lips with your own. Bucky melds his mouth to yours and you feel his hands flex their grasp on your ass. His tongue slides into your mouth and the moan you had been holding in slips out. Your hips shift of their own accord and you can feel Bucky’s erection pressed against you. Bucky pushes away from the wall and carries you down the hallway. He pulls his lips away from yours and gently lowers you to the floor outside your room.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, you?” 

“Yeah.” He looks at you for a moment. “I hope you didn’t mind. I know I was touching-”

“Bucky. It’s fine. You’re just trying to keep Frank off me. I appreciate that. Plus, you're my husband, right?” You smile. 

“Yeah. I just, I don’t want to take advantage of the situation.” Bucky says. 

“I know you wouldn’t do that, Bucky. Don’t worry, okay? Good night.” You hug him around his torso and scurry into your room. 

Bucky retreats to his room and flops down on the bed. You had reassured him that you knew he wouldn’t take advantage, but that’s exactly what he was doing. He saw an opportunity to touch you again and he couldn’t pass it up. You had felt and tasted just as sweet as the first time he’d touched you a few nights ago. You were the one who’d kissed him though. For a minute, he allowed himself to indulge in the thought that you had wanted it, that you had enjoyed it. That your moan had been real. The kiss had been real. The way you rolled your hips against him was because you wanted him, too. 

Bucky’s hand moved of their own volition and pushed down his sweats. His cock was painfully hard and he had to relieve the pressure. Fisting himself he remembers your sweet whimpers when he had rutted against you the other night, the moans you released as the two of you kissed tonight, and he imagines his hand is you wrapped around him. He thinks of how wet you would be as he presses into you and the breathy little sounds you’d make as he bottomed out inside you. “Fuck.” Bucky whispers as he imagined your face scrunched up in ecstasy. His hand speeds up as he pictures you riding him and he bucks up into his hand. “Fuck.” he whispers one more time as he comes all over his stomach.

Part 5

Masterlist

Permanent: @bubbabarnes​ @badassbaker​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @strangersstranger​ @cherthegoddess​ @buckyluvrs​ @sherlocksmanwatson​ @cap-n-stuff​ @finleyjayne​ @caplanreads​ @connie326​ @daydreamerinadazedworld​ @bugsbucky​ @chrisevanscardigan​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @palaiasaurus64​ @rebekahdawkins​ @maaaaarveeeeel​ @tllynn15​ @learisa​ @jelly-fishy-babie​ @fistmebuckyskywalker​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @liebs82​ @honestly-dontknow​ @a-really-bi-girl​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @baddie-barnes​ @aikeia​ @paleo-runaway​ @marvelgirl7​ @starlightcrystalline​ @xxloki81xx​ @kcd15​ @slytherinambitious​ @sallycanwait68​ @slytherdorxmd​ @fangirlforever2412​ @rainbowkisses31​ @whisperlullaby​ @thejemersoninferno​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @supraveng​ @dispatchvampire​ @juenenfeu​ @sxbby-barnes​ @allonszassbutt​ @y-napotat​ @reallymagnificentinfluencer​ @is-it-madness​ @harold231​ @buckysbaby32​ @purselover23​ @ene-rene​ @chrisevansbaby​ @rosesanchez12298806​ @xxpapasfritasxx​

Almost had me believing it: @farfromjustordinary​ @iheartsebastianstan @7minutes-tomidnight​ @thechaoticargonaut​ @marylimlp​ @buckybarnesdevotee​ @janaienaae​ @its-a-simply-me-thing @rosalynshields​ @oliviastan17​ @onlyjamesbuchananbarnes​ @fangirl-swagg​ @wrdro​ @vicmc624​ @lokilokilokilokilokiloki​ @fangirl-swagg​ @jonhsrevelation @ivettt​ @detroitobsessed​ @mypoisonedvine​ @thebuckysoldier​ @teenagedreams-bucky​ @chipilerendi​ @bloodyproudpotterhead​ @jaywolf840​ @mysfitdragony564 @disasterbii​ @daddys-minty-princess​ @whatrambles​ @emmabarnes @pitypartycityy​ @srrymydood​ @legendarysuitstudentfan​ @wittyrosebushb @stuckysavedmylive​ @perfectlymaximumphilosopher​ @potatopineappleposts1 @yolandamontezistherealwildcat​ @irishflutiegirl​ @itsaliceheree​ @fictionalhoomanofnowhere​ @thatchickwiththecamera​ @wendyswildwonders​ @empath-bunny​ @the-lake-is-calling​ @thebadassbitchqueen​

Strikethroughs could not be tagged.

[theladyismyshepard]

I love your characterizations of the daughters and all of your imagines they are fantastic! i was wondering would it be okay to request an imagine where the reader says to the daughters like during an argument or something,“you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” and they all react to her in different ways? plz take ur time with the imagines and don’t feel pressured/rushed as ik writing should be something that is fun and not feel like a chore, thank you for all the content you have written so far :)

@frustratinglyinquisitive also maybe this could double as your #28 prompt? 🥺👉👈

Why Does Everyone Wanna Kiss Me So Bad?

The sunset was shining bright enough to sting and obscure eyesight, but that didn’t stop you from staring up into the pink and orange hues. Every time you blinked, the phantom flash of the sun still danced along your eyelids, leaving a glare across your vision. You weren’t even bothered by it, not when this numbness had clung itself to you, leaving you idle and just there. You flexed your fingers, and it rattled the chains locked around your wrists, bringing you back to where you were.

The boxed confinement you were trapped in felt more of a cage rather than the carriage bumping along the rocky trail that led you to your new prison — yes, Castle Dimitrescu sounded to be just another form of punishment, though you were uncertain as to why you were to be moved from Heisenberg’s watch to Lady Dimitrescu’s estate. You could hardly call it a step up from the twisted games he forced you to play within his factory.

You were sure you were on borrowed time and it was nearly time to collect, and you were certain that time had come when the four Lords surrounded you with Mother Miranda playing the head of the beast, leaving you cowering on the floor. The familiar iron hammer and the stench of billowing cigar smoke was on your right.

Standing next to him was quite possibly one of the ugliest... things you’d ever seen. A cloak hid a majority of his body, but you had the suspicion that the misshaped person next to Heisenberg wasn’t entirely human... you got that vibe from everyone in the room. Especially the weird doll that couldn’t seem to reign in its excitement as it bounced in the veiled woman’s lap seated next to Mother Miranda.

There was nothing human about the golden eyes that peered into yours from under the brim of a wide hat. They seemed calculating, curious, if not a tad bit confused as they surveyed your weak form. You looked away, unable to handle the weight of the woman’s gaze, and that was how you caught Mother Miranda’s bright eyes cutting into you from behind her bird-like mask.

“Oh, how I have been waiting to meet you, little one.” her voice demanded respect, but all you could do was gawk. “You are a stubborn thing, I’ve heard.”

Her gaze slowly crept over to Heisenberg as she said it, and you couldn’t help but feel a tremor of fright at his angered snarl, his arms crossed petulantly. It was true, you had endured many weeks at the hands of the leather-clad man, and while he did his worst, you refused to succumb to his torture, though for how much longer, you couldn’t say.

“I cannot fathom what keeps you here, but there is nothing special about the common human.” said Mother Miranda, and the mounting irritation was crystal clear. “You might have one looking like a dog chasing its own tail, but let us see how you fare in Castle Dimitrescu.”

You could immediately tell who dwelled there with the way the woman wearing white was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. She was completely predatory and was feeding off of Heisenberg’s disgrace and fury, and between the two, you weren’t sure who the best option was, not when her eyes turned to you and she looked like she knew exactly what she wanted to do with you.

“Do not worry, Mother Miranda,” the woman promised, already moving to stand, and the way she towered over you had your neck craned straight upward. “It’s been some time since my daughters had a plaything.”

That comment alone had the other occupants of the room guffawing and whistling. Everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy the prospect of her daughters getting their hands on you, even Heisenberg had his eyebrows arched in surprise. Who the hell are these girls? Mother Miranda seemed to know and that was all that mattered.

“You are about to see what real monsters are.”

And that was how you found yourself roughly chained up inside the carriage that guided you to Castle Dimitrescu. You weren’t entirely sure why it was such a slap in the face to Heisenberg, but he seemed rather indignant as he loaded you up, spitting insults through the whole process.

You couldn’t say for sure how long you had been traveling, but it was enough to have all of your joints achey and your ass numb by the time it was all said and done. Hell, it was long enough to feel the temperature drop as you trekked back around the mountains that stood between the factory and the castle. Though that wasn’t to say that you were in any big rush to get there. In fact, your heart dropped when the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

Panic gripped at your heart, and it felt as though fingers squeezed tightly around it. It left you motionless where you sat, wide eyes glued to the door that you were shoved in through. You could hear Heisenberg muttering and rustling as he approached, but aside from that, you couldn’t hear the distinct clanking of his iron hammer. He had such little faith in your survival skills that he didn’t even bother with arming himself to release you. Not that he needed to... You’ve seen what he can become, and you’ve seen what he houses in his factory. He’d kill you dead in a few seconds flat if you tried anything.

But at this point, what did you have to lose? Mother Miranda made it very clear that you were to be eliminated at the hands of these daughters, so did it really matter if you died at the doorstep or in the dungeon? You might have accepted death, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a last fight out of pure stubbornness. So that was how you had every intention of kicking forcefully at the door once it began creeping open to have him stumble back, possibly cracking him straight in the nose in the process, but that didn’t go as planned right off the bat.

Not when the door was nearly ripped right off the hinges in the haste to open, leaving you jarred, mouth hanging. The sunlight was now faded and replaced by the beams of the moon, but it was a bright night, leaving you capable of seeing that this was definitely not Heisenberg. And neither was she... or her. Uh oh.

“Mother! She’s here!” squealed the redheaded girl closest to you, clapping happily.

“Thank you for the gift, Mother,” said the brunette, her smirk not reaching her dead eyes.

“We will not disappoint you.” promised the blonde, her eyes observing your every move like a hawk.

“Have fun, daughters, but do remember that this one comes special from Mother Miranda, so do not forget to thank her.” their mother instructed, as if you weren’t there.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” all three said in unison before three different pairs of hands grabbed whichever part of you that they could.

Heisenberg clicked his tongue from where he leaned against the side of the carriage. He had an arm crossed while the other brought a cigar nestled between two fingers to his lips. You couldn’t read his eyes from behind his circular sunglasses, but you could read the entertainment in his toothy smile before he took a drag. When he blew it out into your direction, his satisfied grin spread again.

“Now, you have fun now, too, ya hear?” He mocked, chuckling as he turned on his heel, mounted the carriage, and prompted the horses to carry him off into the night.

“We’re gonna have lots of fun.” giggled the redhead, her smile the widest of the daughters as she tugged at your arm, dragging you along the pathway towards the castle.

“Not if I get to her first,” the brunette chimed in, her own grip on your other wrist tightening and pulling, almost like she was trying you get you away from the other.

“Who said either of you get the first turn?” the blonde interrupted, frown etched into her face as she tangled her fingers into the collar of your shirt.

“Enough,” drawled Lady Dimitrescu, voice barely more than a bored mumble, but it still had the daughters zipping their lips. “Bela, you are the oldest, and less likely to break her before your other sisters get a turn, so you may have the first turn.”

The blonde grinned brightly while the other two scowled but saying nothing in front of their mother. Your eyes couldn’t decide where to stay as you glanced between all four women as they finally led you through the entrance of the castle. You noticed that the temperature didn’t really increase from taking shelter, the walls giving off their own chill to substitute for the lack of outside wind.

You didn’t even have time to marvel at the interior before Bela was tugging at you with renewed eagerness. You caught the slight growl from the brunette’s direction, but one glare from the Lady and it ceased. What the hell was really going on here? You never had time to process anything before sister after sister said something that left you reeling.

“Aww, her heart’s racing!” announced the redhead, her eyes wide and unblinking as they stared at your chest. “Please let me-”

“Daniela, no,” snapped Lady Dimitrescu sternly, her frown lines on display. “You will be last, and that’s that.”

Daniela’s face twitched in her attempt to bite her tongue to prevent her argument from bursting forth. It didn’t stop her from turning and giving the brunette a glare however. You gasped when her body dissolved into a swarm of bugs before your very eyes. They dispersed and flew this way and that, and you honestly don’t know why it still shocked you when the brunette followed the same exit style. A nose pressed against the side of your neck and you jolted so hard that you nearly broke free of the hand that was now caressing your shoulder.

“Such a jittery, little thing,” whispered Bela so quietly that her following inhale was louder. “Though I hardly smell the sweet scent of terror... Is this one broken, mother?”

You couldn’t help it, you had to chuckle at the complete honesty in Bela’s question. Your lack of fright baffled this girl almost as much as she baffled you altogether, and suddenly you were staring each other down. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously as she cut her gaze up and down your body. Even Lady Dimitrescu arched a finely sculpted brow at you, seeming more interested now than she did among the other Lords.

“Mother Miranda assures there is nothing special about this one.” said Lady Dimitrescu.

“Why do you not fear me?” demanded Bela, almost sounding offended, her grip on your shoulder tightening. “Your heart is pounding but you aren’t oozing that smell that I like!”

“It’s kinda hard to fear death when you don’t even care about living anymore.” You deadpanned without much feeling, your eyes finding the ground more interesting. “Heisenberg rid me of everything that made me who I used to be.”

“And just who were you before my dear uncle dug his claws into you?” pressed Bela, and you refrained yourself from showing any outward reaction to their connection. You swallowed as you looked her dead in the eye now.

“Someone who would have the common sense to know just how dangerous you are.” You answered, and her brow furrowed.

“Who are you now?” She questioned quietly, her eyes softening a bit under the chandelier light. All you could do was shrug, you had no concrete answer for her, yet you knew you had to supply something.

“Someone who thinks that being abducted by three beautiful women isn’t exactly the worst case scenario,” you chuckled mirthlessly, the bitter smile on your face cutting into your cheeks almost painfully.

Bela stared at you almost dumbfounded before she had to look at her mother, almost as if to double check that she indeed heard correctly before she burst into a fit of giggles. Lady Dimitrescu didn’t even meet her eye, she was too busy staring into your soul. Only when your eyes fell to your feet did you hear her heels clicking away up the winding staircase.

“Remember what she’s here for, dear,” she drawled, never turning back, and leaving you alone with Bela.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just get it over with.” You spat, attempting to sound brave rather than defeated.

Bela’s smile was almost animalistic with the way blood smeared across her lips and stained her teeth, and you couldn’t help but to feel like the prey when she took slow, deliberate steps around you.

“Oh, no, where is the fun in that?” Bela countered, reaching out to graze over whatever part she could touch as she continued to stalk around you in circles, taking you all in. “You are my pet now.”

“I thought I was a plaything.” You couldn’t help but throw back into her face, and you were surprised when Bela merely cocked her head instead of getting angered by your outburst.

“Mother Miranda might not find anything special about you, but call me fascinated.” said Bela, stopping in front of you, her fingertips caressing your throat. “You belong to me now.”

“Us,” corrected a sudden voice behind you, and the haze that was settling over you in Bela’s presence was lifted when you jerked forward.

You tried to whirl around on your heel out of reflex to back away, but Bela’s fingers dipped from your throat to grip at the collar of your shirt to keep you still and facing her. You flinched away from the sudden hand that tangled in the bottom of your hair, pulling your head back until it was resting against a shoulder. Brown hair cascaded down into your eyes.

“Mother Miranda gave her to all of us.” corrected the brunette, the edge in her voice making it like steel.

“Cassandra’s right,” sang Daniela in a sing song voice, and it had a shiver running down your spine, which prompted a round of wild giggling. “Did you like that, pet?”

“If we’re being technical,” Bela piped up with an eye roll, trying to pull you closer and failing when both Daniela and Cassandra tightened their own grips on you. “Mother Miranda gave her to us to tear apart, so she wasn’t meant for anyone.”

“Buuuuuuut?” You interrupted, hoping to add a touch of humor to your case.

Daniela giggled and Bela shook her head in mild amusement, but you found that Cassandra was the more difficult one to crack. She didn’t offer a single facial expression as her eyes surveyed every inch of your body, and you couldn’t tell if she was appreciating the view or if she was sizing up which part of you she wanted to rip off and take for herself.

These three women spoke so callously and so nonchalant right in front of you. These three women were what Mother Miranda referred to as “monsters” compared to the actual beasts you had seen lurking within Heisenberg’s factory. These three women were spattered in blood that you somehow knew wasn’t theirs, and they wouldn’t stop touching you. Hm.

“Aren’t you funny,” Cassandra said nearly monotonous, but her smirk was on full display, and you cursed the light, fluttering feel of your chest.

“I try,” you whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would be taken as a threat to these crazed women, but you did look her in the eye to gauge her reaction.

“Can we keep this one, Bela, please?” whined Daniela, pouting at the blonde.

“I don’t think mother would allow it though.” Bela worried, finally releasing her hold on your shirt, and that had Cassandra and Daniela pulling you closer (and almost apart).

“She is ours to do as we please, we’d kill her if she tried anything.” snapped Cassandra, looking like the whole situation was stupid to her.

“Obviously she will not try to escape!” insisted Daniela, nodding her head furiously towards who you were guessing was the older sister, before turning to you. “Right?”

Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were all looking at you expectantly, and you couldn’t help but feel warm under the spotlight. You could practically see the thoughts flicking through Bela’s calculating eyes. Cassandra was cool and reserved as her eyes gave nothing away, but her wicked smirk showed she wanted something from you, whatever that might be. Daniela’s eyes were intense as they bored into you, and her smile was almost unhinged, and honestly who were you to break it?

“I could never say no to three pretty girls.” You flirted, wagging your eyebrow to each sister, and the response was immediate.

Bela’s mouth parted in a silent gasp before she latched onto the front of your shirt again and started giggling. Cassandra looked entirely predatory now as her eyes flashed and her smirk showed all of her teeth, her own chuckles slipping out. Daniela, who was curled around your arm the whole time, had stars in her eyes at your answer and she smiled widely, throwing her own cackling into the mix, and suddenly it was a symphony.

“I want her first,” pleaded Daniela, eyes never leaving you.

“Mother said it’s my turn with the pet!” said Bela, tugging at you again.

“Why should we get her after she’s been used?” Cassandra argued, her arm now wrapped around you from behind.

“I won’t break her!” snapped Bela, her pulling useless when it was a deadlock between three pairs of hands.

“I don’t care!” cried Daniela, one arm curled around yours and her other hand reaching up to grab your opposite shoulder, locking you in. “I want her!”

You swallowed past your suddenly dry throat. The three sisters were not only talking about a possibility of keeping you around, but it sounded as though they were fighting over you. Your cheeks were aflame as you averted your eyes.

“Look who’s bashful all of a sudden,” jested Cassandra, both her hands falling to your hips. “Where’s all that talk now?”

“I can smell you blushing.” Daniela interjected, sniffing aloud and moaning. “You smell so good... we need to make you blush often.”

“Are we sure we can hide this from mother?” Bela asked one last time, almost like she was seeking permission from her younger sisters now. Daniela and Cassandra shrugged.

“We’ll just have to find out, now won’t we?” You pressed, looking to solidify your place among them... you’d take the position of “pet” over the one of “food” any day.

“Brave little thing,” Cassandra cooed, her fingers rubbing circles on your hips. “I need you with me.”

“Dammit I said it’s my turn!” snarled Bela, finally poking and prying at her sisters fingers locked around you.

“Just because you’re the oldest-!”

“You’re damn right I’m the oldest, and I-”

“You look so stupid,” spat Cassandra petulantly, having enough with going nowhere in the argument, and you could see that this was about to get old quick if you didn’t ease some of the tension.

“You all wanna kiss me so bad it makes you all look stupid.” You sucked your teeth between your lips when it grew deadly silent.

Bela had a crease between her brow as she stared at you in shock, uncertain if she heard you right. Cassandra was a blank slate as she absorbed you taking her insult and turning it back around on her as well. Daniela was wide eyed as she gaped at you for a full five seconds before she snorted and her megawatt smile lit up her entire face.

“I won’t let them get rid of you.” Daniela promised, and you couldn’t recall the last time that she blinked.

“Okay, okay,” sighed Bela, glaring at her sister. “We’re all going to keep her.”

“I hope I don’t break you.” chuckled Cassandra, and coupled with her breath so close to your ear, it had warmth flaring in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t get bashful on me, now,” you smirked back, relishing in the giggles that surrounded you.

“Come along, plaything,” quipped Bela, winking at you as she dragged you along, the sisters following along with her this time. “We’ve got to show you your new home.”

Wild giggling echoed throughout the castle, and it was becoming your new favorite tune.

[ibis-gt]

I honestly would love to read about the first time Cam finds out Luther is shrinking because he has feelings for him. In that hanahaki disease au.

ask and ye shall receive.... cam figures it out. just shy of 2000 words.

~~~

“Aaaand… there,” Cam said, and gave the screwdriver one final twist. He pulled on the little contraption in front of him a few times to test its stability and sat back on his haunches, finally satisfied. “You’re all set.”

It is one of four little rope and pulley elevator systems that he’d set up around Luther’s apartment. It consisted of a small wooden plank that Luther could stand on and use the rope system to raise or lower himself. Each one was operable at height ranges between about a foot and a half to four inches. They let him get up onto his sofa, his bed, the kitchen counter, and the bathroom sink.

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” Luther protested from his position just behind Cam. “I mean, I don’t get that small that often, I probably won’t use them that much.”

Cam laughed and pushed a stray wisp of hair out of his face, looking up at Luther. “What are you talking about? You’re always shrinking around me. It’s okay, I’m happy to help. That’s what friends are for.” He watched the usual blush spread across Luther’s face, the telltale shiver run down his spine, and smiled as Luther shrank another inch. He’d lost some height here and there during the installation process as they chatted, and had gone down to about five foot even, if Cam had to guess. “Anyway, you let me know if you have any trouble with these, and I’ll be over to fix ‘em as soon as I can. And there’s the bells if you’re in any real trouble - those strings there, see? They’re hooked up to a bell in my apartment, ring that and I’ll come right over.”

“My cat’ll have a field day with them,” Luther murmured, brow furrowing. “Maybe we should do something other than string.”

Cam chewed on the end of his screwdriver in contemplation. “Hm. Good point. I’ll figure something out later.” He slipped the screwdriver in his toolbelt and slapped his hands on thighs as he stood up. “Well! I’d better get back to my place and start dinner. You’re coming over, right?”

“Oh! As long as it’s not an imposition? I mean, I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Nah, s’alright, you’re always welcome. Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. See you in an hour?”

Luther’s blush deepened and he lost another two inches. “S-see you then,” he managed.

Cam chuckled fondly to himself as he left. He tried not to think of Luther’s condition as cute or funny, because when the shrinking was really bad it put the poor guy in danger. But he couldn’t help but find it amusing when Luther lost just a little height, ending up just a slightly shorter version of himself. And when he went on one of his long rambles and shrank a little bit at a time all throughout, it put Cam in mind of a deflating balloon, which was just too silly not to laugh at. And when he ended up really tiny, and he was just like a little doll, and fit so perfectly in the palm of Cam’s hand…

Cam shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, that was too far. He shouldn’t think like that, no doubt it was terrifying for Luther to be so small and vulnerable. He sighed as he shouldered his door open, hands full of leftover wood and string. He set them on the little table where he kept his keys by the door, then unbuckled his toolbelt and hung it on the coat rack, lost in thought.

He’d been puzzling over what caused Luther to shrink for a while now. Was it just at random? Was it like an allergic reaction, and some kind of food or environmental thing kicked it off? He had a brief vision of Luther sneezing and instantly shrinking down to bug size. No, knock it off, he chastised himself, not funny. A little funny. But don’t laugh at it.

Anyway, he hadn’t seen Luther ever sneeze when he shrank, so that probably wasn’t it. What were the symptoms? He’d make a list, that would help him narrow it down.

Cam slipped an apron over his head - one of the novelty ones his sister kept getting him, he didn’t bother to read the witty joke about buns printed on the front - and started on the dough for his spaghetti. Whenever possible, he liked to make things from scratch. Besides, having something to do with his hands let his mind work better. He worked the problem around in his mind just like he worked the dough in front of him, kneading it, pushing it around, looking at it from different angles.

So. What were the warning signs? Luther tended to get awkward and shy just before he shrank. He’d blush, stammer or trip over his words, either avoid eye contact or stare like he couldn’t look away, and of course the final sign was that signature shiver right before a loss of height. A lot of those symptoms could be attributed to anxiety as well - was that what triggered the shrinking, just whenever he was anxious? But that couldn’t be it, Luther had been anxious plenty of times without shrinking. Not to mention he worked a high-stress job, waiting tables at a local diner, and wouldn’t be able to make it through the day if anxiety made him shrink. So that wasn’t it.

Cam rolled the dough out flat and cut it into strips. He hung the fresh noodles up to dry and put water on to boil, then opened the fridge and pulled out the meatballs he’d shaped that morning.

His brain kept chugging along on the issue as he worked, hands going on automatic. He came back to the present long enough to taste the sauce he’d made, hem and haw, and add a little more garlic, then went right back to it. There was something tugging at the back of his mind, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

A sound startled him out of his thoughts - the ringing of a bell.

“Shoot,” Cam hissed, dropping the sauce spoon. It clattered onto the stove and left little pools of sauce cooling on the glass surface. He’d deal with that later though, Luther needed him now. He switched the burners to low and headed for the door.

Luther’s door was locked, so he had to duck back inside his apartment to grab the spare key. He opened the door slowly and called out.

“Luther? Was that just the cat, or do you need me?” Cam scanned the room, looking for that distinctive neon green jumpsuit. It clashed horribly with everything, but it was useful for spotting him when he ended up tiny. Sure enough, there he was by the strings for the bell, waving an arm to get Cam’s attention. He was easy to spot, as far as things went, standing about a foot tall. Cam hurried over.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Cam took a knee in front of Luther and leaned in close, inspecting him for injuries. Luther took a step back, startled by the sudden rush of worry, and Cam made himself pull back as well. It had to be scary to have someone looming over you like that, he told himself, give him a little space.

“I-I’m fine,” Luther said. “I just… well, this happened, and now I can’t really open my door, so I was hoping you could give me a lift over for dinner? Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve used the bell. I could’ve texted you.”

The tension flooded out of Cam and he laughed in relief. “No, that’s fine, I just jumped to conclusions. I can give you a lift, sure.” He cupped his hands and held them out to Luther, who climbed on and settled in, sitting down with his legs crossed. Cam rose slowly, being careful not to jostle Luther, and began to amble back towards the door. A thought occurred to him.

“What did it?” Cam asked.

Luther looked up, startled. “What did what?”

‘“What made you shrink this time? I’ve been trying to work it out on my own and I’m just not getting it. There’s gotta be a common thread, right, you’re not just shrinking at random?”

Luther stared at him in open-mouthed shock, face growing steadily redder.

“I mean,” Cam continued, “if you were just shrinking at random, it’d be hard to hold down a job, y’know? Do you ever shrink at work? And anyway, didn’t you say - ” His eyes widened as that thing that had been nagging at him finally became clear. “You said you don’t shrink all the time! But you shrink pretty often whenever I’m around. Am I doing it, somehow?”

“No, no, no,” Luther said hurriedly, but Cam could feel him getting smaller.

“Oh, liar!” Cam chortled. “Nice try, Pinnochio, but I’m literally holding you right now. Is it actually me?”

“It’s - it’s not - not always?” Luther was practically cowering away from him now, and Cam realized he’d been a little harsh.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay? It’s your business, I shouldn’t’ve pried.”

“No, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, it’s just… hard to say out loud, um…” Luther fidgeted with the collar of his jumpsuit, avoiding Cam’s eyes. He was red as a tomato, mouth drawn up in an adorable little pout, and so small and cute that Cam’s heart ached. Then it clicked.

“Oh. Is it me, like… because you like me?” Cam asked. “Like, you have a crush on me, is that it?”

Luther let out a sound like a tea kettle whistling, shrinking down at an alarming rate to only five inches tall. Cam couldn’t help himself. He laughed so hard he snorted. When he finally got a hold on himself again, the wounded look on Luther’s face sobered him instantly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but you don’t know how long I’ve been trying to work this out, and the answer’s been right in front of my face the whole time! I swear I’m laughing at myself, not at you. Anyway, you wanna go out sometime?”

Luther gaped up at him for a long moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally he shut his mouth and nodded furiously. Cam grinned.

“Or this could be like our first date, right? I’ll get some candles and dim the lights. We could even 'Lady and the Tramp' it with the spaghetti! Or - okay, okay, sorry, I’ll stop.” Luther had started to shrink again, and Cam didn’t want his cooking to go to waste just because his guest was too small to eat it. “Hey, I joke a lot, but I want you to know I’m being serious here,” he said gently. “I’d like to go out with you, if you’re alright with it. Is it going to cause problems, though? Like are you going to shrink every time we’re together?”

Luther shifted and looked away, finally finding his voice. “I - I don’t know. The doctor said if I told you about how I felt, it would get easier. But he didn’t say it would go away entirely… if that’s not something you want to put up with, we don’t have to - ”

“No, no, that’s fine, I don’t mind it. Just if it was a problem for you, is all. I like you a lot, Luther. I’d love to be your partner, if you’ll have me.”

Luther looked back up at Cam with a huge, genuine, relieved smile on his teeny tiny face. Cam’s heart melted.

“I’d like that.”

[obsessive-ego]

Night night

Beetlejuice jerks it while watching you sleep again cuz someone asked me to

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Nsft content

Its been a good few days since you've last seen your undead pal, the ghoul claimed he had a business meeting in the netherworld, though you still dont believe the demon had a legit paying job, the man was a freeloader, not that you minded, you enjoyed his presence, more so then youd like to admit to be honest, okay so maybe you thought of him on those long sleepless nights, not that youd ever say it out loud.

You were a coward with those feelings, beetlejuice was impossible to read, the heavy flirting, the touching, who's to say he wasnt just messing with you.

You sigh as you continue to fold your laundry, normally on quiet days like this, when you were alone, youd try to catch up on chores since there were no distractions nor interruptions.

Your mind begins to wander with this simple mindless task, so you didmt exactly notice as you room gets colder and the air gets heavier.

"Honey, I'm home~" a familiar voice growls in your ear

You Yelp at the surprise, and fumble with the shirt you were folding, before spinning around to see the culprit.

There stood beetlejuice, smug as ever, a big toothy grin, amber eyes practically glowing, spots of pink emerging from his hair, both head and face.

"BEETLEJUICE"

"Oh how I missed that sound~ that sweet sound on my favourite breather screaming" he moans leaning back circling his own nipples.

You suppress a laugh, not wanting to give the demon encouragement for making a fool out of you.

"Welcome home" you sigh, before turning back to gather up the folded laundry and place it in the basket.

Unbeknownst to you the ghoul has let the soft pink spots take full control of his once green hair, a dopey love sick smile now graced his mug, the demon let's out a soft sigh, welcome home, something so soft and simple, it ment nothing when he said it, but from you? You were basically inviting the ghoul to live with you forever, that you considered your home his aswell.

Turning back to the ghoul you smile

"Well?"

Beetlejuice snaps back to reality, raising an eyebrow at you tilting his head as if to focus more on you.

"How was the whole business trip?"

"Oh, that? dull, not even worth discussing" he smoothed back his hair, as if he was whiping the pink away in favour of his default Forest green.

You frown, beetlejuice wasnt exactly open with talking about the netherworld, maybe because he found it boring, being born dead he's probably already had his fill of the place, you shrug it off, not wanting to spoil the mood of your departed friend being back.

"Soooo~ ya miss me?~" the ghoul coos pulling you into a rather enthusiastic dip before leaning in close, puckering his lips and making kissing sounds. You snort out a laugh and try to push beej away.

"Of course I did, as nice as the quiet is, i miss you when you're not around"

You literally had no idea what you were doing to him with all this corny honesty and kindness, all without blackmail or threatening, you openly enjoyed him, bugs and all. No one has ever wanted him for nothing, beetlejuice was powerful so be wanted always had a catch, but not with you.

"Oh~ do you think of me when you're all alone late at night?" He purrs in a mocking tone, as much as beetlejuice was infatuated with you he still enjoyed teasing the hell out of you.

You snort out a laugh trying to escape his grasp

"Come on doll, say you think about me at night~" the demon purrs pulling you close, taking a slight nip of your ear causing you to yelp out.

And as if your yelp was what he was after the ghoul let's you go.

Frazzled, embarrassed, and slightly confused you stumble trying to regain yourself.

"I take it back, I didnt miss you" you mumble

Beetlejuice only laughs "no backies babes"

It wasnt a new thing, beetlejuice teasing you, flirting with you, being up close and personal, you just didnt exactly know if he was joking or being legit, but you didnt mind, you enjoyed his attention, as embarrassing as it was, and let's be honest beetlejuice  was thrilled you enjoyed it, so he could get up close and personal with his favourite breather, now if only he could get you to admit you loved him first.

...

It was nice to have your freeloader back, a few days of peace and quiet are nice, but things do get lonely, so having your ghost back was wonderful, the two of you spend you evening the usual way.

You ordered pizza, beetlejuice scares the piss out of the delivery guy and makes you laugh, the two of you spend hours watching b list horror and joking all the while.

The night was a delight, but fun things couldnt last forever, unlike the demon, you needed to sleep.

"I'm gonna head to bed beej" you yawn.

During your little movie night the ghoul manged to worm his way into your personal space, pulling you into his side, draping an arm around your shoulders.

You squirm your way out of the demon's grasp, beetlejuice grunts in protest, not exactly thrilled with you absence, it's been days since he had you so close, your warmth, your scent, oh how he missed it, hell he already starting to get get hard from that close contact alone.

"Aw come on sweets, you have the day off tomorrow, and I just got back from a long boring trip alone, humor me" he shrugs knowing full well you wont.

You yawn "sorry Bee, I can barely keep my eyes open, we can hang out more tomorrow, night Bj" you waved him goodnight before shuffling to you bedroom.

The ghoul huffs in disappointment, one day you'll agree to stay up all night with him, well, more of you'll TRY to stay up all night with him and fall asleep up against him, gold for teasing.

The ghoul didnt want to continue with watching movies, it wasnt the same without you laughing at his jokes, nor did he want to play video games, again, they weren't fun without you, he COULD bug your neighbors, but he wasnt exactly in the mood.

Raising from his seat on the couch he huffs, it was nice to be back after those soul sucking few days in the netherworld, the ghoul floats over to your bedroom door, phasing his head through the door, unlike breathers the demon could easily see in the dark, there you were out cold, he smirks, you really were tired.

With the coast in clear the ghoul phasing the rest of his form through the door.

Beetlejuice makes his way over to your sleeping form, oh how he missed this, yes the two of you were apart only for a few days, and yes you two have been apart for longer periods of time. But spending time with the Deetz and the maitlands was a different kinda time apart, he wasnt alone, but being in the netherworld? It was lonely, cold, and felt like an eternity, plus he had to deal with his mother. But that unpleasantness was over, and here he was, in his favourite breather's home, where he belonged.

The ghoul hums as he makes his way to your bed, the ghoul floats and adjusts himself, now laying on his side hovering inches above your bed and inches from you.

One of Beetlejuice's favourite late night pass times was watching you sleep, he was a creep with a massive crush on you, both in the sappy way and 'I'm gonna fuck you senseless way'.

"Really missed ya sweets~" he purred in a gravely whisper

"I missed your voice, I missed you laugh, I missed you warmth, i missed you scent-" the ghoul continued with his list as he slowly freed his half hard cock, it's been a few days since he last cleaned his pipes, and being up close and personal with his favourite breather moments earlier really got his motor running.

As lovely as it was for the demon to watch you sleep, another favourite pastime of his was to tend to his personal urges while watching you sleep, an activity he has partook in multiple times.

Electric pink quickly took over the mossy green of his hair, the demon was already buzzing with excitement, pink hue so bright it illuminated the room, Beetlejuice's strokes started off nice and slow, as much as beetlejuice wanted to rush into the fun, he wanted to enjoy his first night back home even more.

Leaning forward the ghoul takes a deep long sniff if your scent "Mmmm" he stifles a moan "I bet you taste as good as ya smell babes" he groand through his clenched teeth.

As hot as the idea of being caught was, having you wake up and see him jerking off only inches away from where you lay, having you be incredibly flattered and turned on at such a gesture and then begging him to fuck you, as hot as that fantasy is, that's what it was, a fantasy, in reality youd probably be sick to your stomach at such a scene and banish him then and there, but hey, a ghoul can dream.

"I bet those pretty hands would feel alot better then mine" he groans, slightly picking up pace.

"Maybe next movie night you could treat me to a little handy J sweets, unless youd prefer to use that cute mouth of yours, you know I'm not picky" he sighs, the image of you getting bored during movie night and getting handsy with the demon was one of his favourite fantasies, simple, yet naughty. Beetlejuice's hips buck into his hand begging him to pick up the pace as his mind wanders to all his dirty fantasies of you, his amber eyes never breaking away from your face.

If the ghoul was good at anything, other then being an absolute pest, it was edging himself. Beetlejuice slows down his strokes, almost as if to stop.

"Ya know doll, anything you'd do to me I'll repay ya, I'm dying again to get my tongue inside that sweet little pussy of yours~ if your panties are any indication you're gonna taste real good~ I'll eat ya out for hours-" beetlejuice freezes as you shift in your sleep, you let out a soft unintelligible noise.

The ghoul let's out a sigh he didnt know he was holding, his hands make their way back to his cock, that sweet little noise, oh how his missed those sounds you uttered in your sleep.

"Oh sugar, the sounds you'll make when old mr beebleboose gets ya riding his cock are going to be beautiful" he moans, the image having you sitting pretty straddling him, cocked buried deep within you, having you do all the movements at first while he admires the way your chest will bounce, and the faces you'll make, until the demon takes charge and pounds mercilessly into you, oh how he dreamed to hear your screams of pleasure and praise on how good the ghoul made you feel.

Beetlejuice's hands were busy at work, tending to his cock as the ghoul's imagination ran wild as he stared at your sleeping face, he was close.

"Oh y/n, FUCK, babes I want- no, i need ya, I need ya so bad sweets, I missed ya so much babes, fuck" beetlejuice babbled as his pace picked up jerking his cock, hips bucking hard to meet his hand.

Beetlejuice leans back into you face, taking another deep inhale of your intoxicating scent, and lingering a tad longer to steal a quick kiss,as much as the ghoul wanted to shove his tongue down your throat this was the best he got.

"Baby, I'm gonna- fuck y/n-" he uttered before he finally blowing his load, splattering his glowing cum all over your bed, it was quite the amount, beetlejuice sighs leaning back and admiring his handy work

"Its been while since I made that much" he lets out a soft chuckle, electric pink hue slowly dying down.

He sighs, as hot as it is to have you sleep in cum covered sheets, you wouldnt be too pleased waking up to see this sticky mess.

With a snap of the demon's fingers the mess vanishes, as disappointing it was to he his work vanish it was for the greater good.

Beetlejuice's gaze moves from your bed spread back to you, his expression changes to a soft toothy smile, soft pink colours taking over his hue, with a snap of his finger his trade mark striped suit was vanished leaving him wearing nothing aside from a pair of striped boxers. Beetlejuice slowly and carefully removes the covers from your body and gently slides in next to you, covering himself up with the freshly 'cleaned' blanket he sighs through his nose, greeted by your delightful warmth, one of his favourite things about breathers, how warm they were.

There was only ONE last little thing to make this welcome back 'party' perfect.

With a snap of his fingers you're sleeping form shifts and slowly crawls into the ghoul's arms before collapsing back into your motionless slumber, beetlejuice smirks at this as his arms wrap themselves around you, possessing someone in their sleep was a little annoying, but little things like that were a peice of cake.

With this pipes cleaned and you in his arms the ghoul was ready for bed,

"Welcome home, home" he muses on the words you beamed at him when he returned to you. "Guess that really rings true huh? Night y/n" he kisses your forehead before finally closing his eyes.

Bonus

You jolt awake moments after beetlejuice has snuck into your bed, anxiety taking over due to the weight about your body that you did not go to bed with, you sigh in relief once you see it was your resident freeloader demon, a tad embarrassed how you ended up cuddling the ghoul you shrug it off, to be honest the nights you were without him were sleepless, it was lonely without him.

You pause for a second before leaning up and giving the ghoul a quick peck on his scruffy cheek before nuzzling back into his soft chest, his hands resting softly on your back.

"Good night Lawrence" you mumble before dozing back off for a long peaceful sleep.

[alarawriting]

52 Project #24: The Princesses and the Peas

(Inspired by a post on Tumblr and if I can ever find it again I will link it here.)

(Not proofread, beta’ed, or even read through a second time because this is massively late and if I don’t post within the next hour it will officially be next week everywhere in the United States and I will have failed in my mission. I’ll try to re-read and proofread and edit next week. Also this note is highly unprofessional, but I learned my relationship to my audience through fanfic, so this is how I roll.)

***

Surely you have heard a similar tale before, almost but not entirely like this one, of the queen who sought the perfect wife for her son, the crown prince.

The queen had ruled the land alone since the death of her husband. She was praised for her wisdom and her benevolence toward her people. But she was no longer young, and it was time to make sure her son made a politically beneficial marriage, to strengthen his position when it came time for him to take the crown. Many in the land whispered that the young man would make a terrible king, and wanted him to abdicate in favor of his younger sister, who was beautiful and bright and smiling. Celia, the young sister, could look anyone in the eye and make them believe that in that moment, they were the most important person in her world. Arien, the prince… could not do that.

The prince had a talent for mathematics, and it had expressed itself very young. Some said he should be the chancellor of the exchequer rather than the king. But Queen Leyta knew her son would make a compassionate and wise ruler as well as a prudent one. He also had a gift for seeing the humanity behind the numbers he calculated, of being able to think of the impact they would have on the people he would one day rule.

Once, when he was a child of six, his nursemaid lost him. Leyta found him behind the kitchens, picking through the garbage bins to find table scraps. She would have punished the kitchen staff for allowing such a thing, but Arien insisted that she should not. “It’s not their fault, Mother. I ordered them to let me, and I’m the prince, so they had to obey me. I told them that if you became angry at them I would tell you that they were only obeying my orders. They can’t get in trouble for obeying their liege.”

Leyta sighed. She could punish them for obeying their liege, when their liege was 6 and the thing he wanted to do was eat garbage, but she wouldn’t, because she knew why they obeyed. When the prince was thwarted, he would ask why. And if he received an answer, he would argue with it and present his position. Sometimes, this debate would lead to him accepting the necessity, and calmly going about his business, seeming to forget all about what he’d asked. More often, if he didn’t get an answer to “why”, or he didn’t like the answer and thought it didn’t make sense, and he was still thwarted, he would start to scream and hide under tables, or scream and run around and break things, or scream and slam his head into the wall, and he wouldn’t stop even when offered the thing he wanted. It was very, very hard to calm him once he started shrieking. So instead of punishing the kitchen staff, she asked Arien, “Why were you eating garbage?”

“Our food is bought with the taxes we take from the people,” he said seriously. “If we wasted less food, we wouldn’t have to tax the people as sorely as we do, and they would have more money to buy things for themselves.”

So she took him aside and told him that the scraps were fed to the dogs, who helped the palace huntsmen bring down game, or the goats and fowl, who gave the palace milk, meat and eggs, or they were tilled into the ground to make the fields around the palace more fruitful. They did not, in fact, go to waste; food that wasn’t wholesome for humans to eat could still feed animals, who would turn it back into wholesome food.

Then she had a lengthy discussion with him about tax policy, and listened gravely to his suggestions as to how they could ease the burdens on the people, and told him what the problems with his ideas were. And when some of his ideas didn’t have significant problems, she told him so, and discussed them with him, and even implemented a few as policy.

Arien also had a great love for bugs. He spent much of his days wandering the grounds, sketching every insect he saw, capturing some to study them and figure out what they ate. When Leyta learned of this, she found a learned scholar of insects, and hired him to be Arien’s tutor in the matter of insects, only. The man was at first openly resentful of being required to work with a small child, assuming that Arien would be a spoiled princeling with no real interest in learning, but when he discovered Arien’s love for the tiny creatures, he embraced the boy wholeheartedly and tutored him as well as he could.

The prince had few friends. He was open and innocent, happy to make friends with any child close to his own age, but the honest children who truly wanted a playmate were put off by Arien’s tendency to talk about bugs and math almost constantly. The children who put up with Arien’s chatter were, to Leyta’s eyes, obviously coached by ambitious mothers, pretending to friendship with the strange young prince to improve their position at court. She arranged for most of these children to be sent away – either their mothers dismissed, or the family sent to one of the crown’s holdings with some duty to perform or another. Arien was saddened by the disappearance of his playmates, since he didn’t realize they saw him as mere stepping stones to power. Celia knew, and would comfort her brother as well as she could… but she didn’t have a lot of patience for math, tax policy, and insects either.

As he grew up, Arien continued to display a strange mixture of wisdom and childishness. He would run around the palace grounds, playing with children far younger than he was, and they were not old enough to try to manipulate him, so Queen Leyta left them alone. He enjoyed riding his horse and taking care of it, and was often found at the stables, for he believed his horse needed to cared for in just the exact way he did it, and he didn’t trust the stablehands to follow his instructions exactly. He would spend hours discussing the politics of the land and the problems facing various groups of his subjects with Leyta and her own advisors, and then he would scream and throw himself on the floor at dinner because a chef had put visible onions in his soup, and he would need to be put to bed with his favorite blanket and a knitted doll of a dog that he’d had when he was four.

People said that the boy was touched in the head, that he was slightly mad, and also, that a future king who threw temper tantrums over onions was not to be trusted. But they weren’t, exactly, tantrums, as Leyta saw them. They didn’t stop when the problem was solved, they usually didn’t include demands – in fact, usually it was hard to get the prince to explain what was wrong, because he seemed to lose much of his ability to speak when these fits came on him. And she could see in his eyes that he was terrified and overwhelmed, not angry and demanding. Arien needed the world to work a certain way, and when it did not, it left him adrift, frightened and lost in a world that seemed to make no sense to him anymore.

Some of these ways that the world needed to work involved food, and the importance of not being able to see onions, for an onion large enough to see was large enough to crunch in his mouth in a way that apparently was so disgusting it would make him lose his ability to eat all day. There were similar rules regarding peppers, and certain cream dishes. Other ways the world needed to work regarded his mother’s advisors treating him like their future king, not in terms of obsequious deference but in terms of actually listening to his ideas and explaining things to him – even when he was merely eight. And then there was the care of animals – his own animals needed to be cared for in an exact way, and if he saw anyone being cruel to an animal, he might actually become violent to that person. The same was true of stronger people being cruel to weaker ones. When he was fourteen, he heard a maid crying, and asked a kitchen maid to find out for him what had happened. And then, when he learned that a nobleman under his roof had ill used her and cast her aside, he went to his mother and demanded the man be whipped for his crimes. The political explanations she gave for why that couldn’t be done fell on deaf ears; he was a cruel man and he’d harmed someone he had power over, and that was all Arien cared about. Leyta only managed to satisfy him by sending the man on a probably futile sea expedition to try to find a cheaper source of rice.

This was the boy that Queen Leyta had to find a proper bride for.

Her mother-in-law, the Dowager Queen, had ideas, but it had been many years since the Dowager Queen had actually held any power; she was one of Leyta’s advisors now, nothing more. So the idea would have to be one that Leyta agreed with, herself.

A ball to introduce eligible young women with powerful families to the prince? No. The prince didn’t handle crowds or parties well, or meeting a lot of new people in one evening.

A series of daytime salons, where a small group of eligible women would converse over luncheon with the prince? No. That was still too many people and the prince  was self-conscious about people watching him eat.

Individual visits from each eligible young lady and her chaperones, to the palace, to meet with Arien, and also to be approved by Leyta? Yes! An excellent idea. Leyta had her secretary write up the invitations, to all the young women whose parents had written to her or the Dowager to express an interest.

In the palace was a suite of rooms that had been Leyta’s, once, when she’d lived in this palace to learn its ways before marrying the then-prince. She had that suite cleaned and prepared for the guests. Sleeping quarters to either side for the princess’s guards. Ladies-in-waiting to sleep in the antechamber outside the princess’s bedroom. And inside the princess’s bedroom, a bed heaped with several thick eiderdown duvets and pillows, incredibly soft, with sheets made from the finest linens.

And under the second eiderdown duvet, dried peas.

Queen Leyta tested the peas. When she sat on the bed, she couldn’t feel them. If she laid in the bed, she could barely tell they were there. But when she had Arien try it, he said, “You’re going to take them out before the guests come, right? The peas make the bed much too uncomfortable.”

“The peas,” Leyta said, “are to test whether a girl is right for you or not. It’s magic.”

Arien looked at her skeptically, unsure whether he believed in magic or not. “How are dried peas supposed to find me the right wife?”

“Magic,” Leyta said. “I can’t tell you exactly how it works. But it’s very important that you not tell them about the peas, or the magic won’t work.”

“Mother, I’m sixteen. I’m not a child. This whole story sounds ridiculous.”

“All right,” Leyta admitted. “It’s not magic, but I won’t be able to explain it to you until after it’s proven that it works, or doesn’t. But it is very important that you not tell any of your guests about it.”

Arien looked like he wanted to argue some more about it. Leyta said, “Trust me,” and he sighed, plainly remembering the number of times his mother had stood up for him or had come up with some scheme to help him.

“All right, Mother, but I’ll want that explanation afterwards.”

The Dowager Queen had her own theories. “You want to see if they can tell the peas are there?”

“To a certain extent,” Leyta said.

“You know that old wives’ tale about princesses being true and refined if they’re extremely sensitive is just a myth. I wasn’t a fragile flower who’d lose petals if you looked at her hard, and neither were you. And neither will Celia be.”

“I know that, Mother,” Leyta said – it was custom to address your mother-in-law as Mother, and Leyta’s own mother had died shortly after her wedding. The Dowager Queen had been the closest thing to a mother she’d had the entire time she was Queen. “I’m not testing for extreme skin sensitivity. Trust me.”

“It’d be hard for him to get an heir on a princess that fragile, don’t you think?” The Dowager chortled.

Leyta sighed. “No need to be crude about it. I have my reasons, and I’ll explain them to you, eventually. Let’s see if it works, first.”

***

The first princess was from the west. She had long straight hair and delicate-looking eyes with folded lids that left them shaped like almonds, rather than the eggs that the people of this realm wore in their face. She had pale creamy skin with a golden undertone, and she was demure and very polite, her etiquette perfect. She sat with Arien for hours, smiling at him with a face that expressed great interest, as he explained to her the complexities of life in a beehive.

In the morning, Leyta asked her, “How did you sleep?”

“Oh, wonderfully,” the princess said. “The bed was perfect! So soft! Your hospitality is wonderful.” She bowed her head.

Leyta saw her and her entourage off. When she returned, she asked Arien, “What did you think of her?”

“She was nice,” Arien said. “She listened to me. I’ve only had a few friends who listened to me, and they all moved away.”

Privately, without Arien present, the Dowager asked, “So what’s your verdict?”

“Unless none of them pass the test, she’s a no.”

***

The second princess was from the land immediately to the north. Her skin was tree- brown but as smooth as a tranquil lake, her hair floating around her head in a soft, curly cloud. Arien talked to her about beetles. She made excuses of not feeling well about half an hour into the beetle discussion.

When Leyta asked her how she slept, she said, “Your rooms are very nice. And the food last night was excellent, I’m so sorry I had to cut the evening short. But I feel fully rejuvenated today.”

Arien said, “She seemed okay, but she kept looking around while I was talking to her, so much that I think she gave herself motion sickness. I think that’s why she got sick.”

Leyta said to the Dowager, “A definite no.”

***

The third princess was from the far south. She had beautiful straight golden hair, cut short and asymmetrically, where it was shorter in the back than front and where it was parted on one side rather than in the middle.

She complained about her soup being cold. She complained about her roast beef being too bloody. She complained that the dessert course had small portions and also that it was too sweet. She screamed at servants for not bringing her wet towels for wiping her hands quickly enough and for refilling her wine glass too quickly. She insisted on talking to the seneschal about the servants who had served her, demanding that they be banished from the castle for incompetence. When Arien tried to talk to her, her demeanor was sweet, but every time he tried to talk to her about something he liked, she insisted that he show her another part of the castle. She made plans for room redecoration as if she had already become Arien’s queen.

In the morning, she was sickly sweet with Leyta, saying it was only a minor thing, really, but surely more competent servants could be found to make the bed? It was extremely lumpy. Leyta found out that she’d woken the chambermaids at 1 in the morning to demand an additional five featherbeds piled on top of hers.

Arien didn’t look at his mother. “Um… I don’t want to be impolite, but… I didn’t like her very much.”

The Dowager Queen said, “Please don’t tell me you’re considering that young harridan just because she could tell there were peas in the bed.”

“Oh, no. Not even for a moment,” said Leyta, and drew her quill through the name “Princess Carinna” on the list.

***

The fourth princess was actually the daughter of a powerful merchant, not an actual princess at all. She had deeply tanned skin and thick black hair, and beautiful dark eyes. She and Arien talked for hours about tax policy and accounting techniques, and she seemed genuinely interested.

She said the bed had been wonderful, and there was nothing wrong with it. Arien liked her. But Queen Leyta marked her as a provisional choice, the first on the list if no one passed her test.

***

And so it went with princess after princess. Most of them showed at least some slight sign of impatience when Arien monopolized the conversation, but none of them admitted to it, and few even tried to change the topic. No others were as rude as Carinna. No others admitted to detecting the peas, either. Leyta was on the verge of contacting the merchant to make an offer for his daughter to wed Arien. And then Princess Inaya arrived.

Princess Inaya was from further north than the second princess had been, her skin darker and her hair in braids that lay directly against her head, with ribbons and beads woven into them at the bottom. She didn’t look Leyta in the eye – or anyone else, really, keeping her head bowed demurely. She picked at her food, more or less eating only the potatoes, and she barely spoke… until she met with Arien.

He offered, diffidently, to show her the garden, and she accepted. He started to point out interesting bugs that he saw in the garden… and she began to point out interesting rocks. They soon began an animated conversation that sounded to Leyta more like two separate threads, where Arien would say a sentence or two about insects, then yield to Inaya, who would say a sentence or two about rocks. Sometimes they had a genuine back-and-forth when they talked about the habitats of pillbugs, who lived under rocks, or other areas where rocks and insects somehow intersected. Arien showed Inaya the notebook where he drew bugs and made his observations, and Inaya seemed to be thrilled with his artistic skill. She showed him her own notebook, with no art at all, where she wrote down the properties of rocks she had discovered and outlined the tests she did on stones to see what they were made of. Arien was fascinated with the efforts she’d gone to and how thoroughly she’d documented her findings; he’d never thought of doing anything to research the insects aside from looking them up in his tutor’s books.

At no point did she ever look Arien in the eye. At no point did he seem to care. He relaxed enough with Inaya to flap his hands when he grew excited; Inaya had a chain of polished stones that, instead of wearing around her neck, she tossed in the air as she paced.

In the morning, when Leyta asked Inaya how she slept, she squirmed.

“I, um. The bed was mostly very nice. Very good linens, nice soft down. But, uh. It felt like maybe there were… tiny pebbles in there somewhere? I’m not sure, I didn’t want to be rude and strip down the bed to look, but, uh. It was kind of uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Leyta said.

She made arrangements to ask Arien his opinion before Inaya’s entourage left, this time. He spoke very simply. “I love her. Pick her, she’s the one.”

“I thought you would say that,” Leyta said, and she finished drafting the offer to Inaya’s parents, and signed it. “Take this to her lady-in-waiting before they leave, to give to Inaya’s parents.”

“I can’t!” Arien said, looking all around. “I can’t be the one to do it because I have to give her a parting gift if I see her and I don’t have any nice rocks!”

So Leyta gave him a bracelet with a large inset opal, and smaller jades all around it. “Take this to her and tell her which kinds of stones are in it, and tell her she can wear it as a bracelet if she wants, or take it apart for the stones, whichever she prefers.”

Later she heard that Inaya collapsed on the ground crying when he made the offer, but that her lady-in-waiting reassured Arien that this wasn’t abnormal – that she did this whenever her emotions were too strong to control, even if they were happy emotions. Inaya confirmed that she was crying from relief and joy, because she had always thought that no man would ever want to marry her and if one did, he would hate her rocks and want her to do normal womanly things like embroidery or something, which she wasn’t good at in the slightest because her coordination was bad and she was always poking the needle into the wrong place, and she had never imagined that she would ever find a man who understood her and didn’t demand that she look in his eyes and liked to listen to her talk about what she loved. Then Arien asked her very gravely if she liked hugs, because most of the time he didn’t like hugs, especially when they were a surprise, but if she would like a hug he really wanted to give her one. They hugged, and declared mutual love (“as far as I can define the feeling of love, anyway,” Inaya said, “because I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before, so how can I know for sure that that’s what this is?” Arien had agreed with her, but said “I think that even if what we’re feeling isn’t the same kind of thing as other people feel when they’re in love, it’s close enough that we can use the same word, because who wants to have to make up a new word?” And then they spent several minutes amusing each other to the point of hysterical laughter in making up new words that sounded ridiculous, sometimes repeating them to each other ten or a dozen times.) When Inaya finally had to leave, Arien cried.

Leyta wasn’t there for any of that, but her spies were everywhere in the castle.

***

When the Dowager demanded that she explain her test, Leyta summoned Arien, who had washed his face so it looked more as if he had had a terrible runny nose and sneezes than that he’d been crying.

“You asked me about what it would prove, to put peas in the bed,” Leyta said, “and I was looking for two things, but one was more important than the other.”

“What were you looking for?” Arien asked.

“Arien… you know that you’re a special young man, and different in some ways than other people your age. I’ve consulted with many scholars. Children like you are often strangely sensitive to things that other people don’t notice… often to the point where it’s unpleasant. Such as your feelings about onions.”

He shuddered. “Please do not remind me of the existence of those devil vegetables.”

Leyta laughed. The Dowager scowled. Leyta knew she preferred that a king, or a crown prince who’d just been betrothed, have a serious demeanor. She also knew that Arien would be who he was, no matter what anyone asked him to be.

“So I thought, the peas might be noticeable to some of the girls, but they would be especially notable to a girl who was like Arien. More importantly, if a girl noticed it but claimed she didn’t… Arien, I know you are often taken off guard by lies, and you’re a very honest man yourself. I know you would prefer a wife who will tell you when something makes her unhappy, rather than her trying to guess how you feel about it and then telling you what she thinks you want to hear.”

Arien nodded. “Nobody can see inside someone else’s mind, so why would anyone even do that?”

“I wanted a girl who would be honest about something she found unpleasant, even if she had to offend her host to admit it. But, obviously, kindness and compassion and a lack of malice about it were necessary as well… we don’t want a Carinna anywhere near the rulership of the kingdom.”

“You can say that again,” Arien said. Leyta suspected he was setting her up so she could tell a joke.

“But I won’t, because I know you heard it the first time,” she said, smiling.

The Dowager frowned. “So you picked a girl who has the same kinds of problems as Arien? Was that wise? The kingdom may need rulers who understand the idea of telling lies when they must, who can be charming and adept with politics. I thought you’d pick a girl who would cover Arien’s weaknesses, not one with the same issues.”

“Your son understood me,” Leyta said simply. “It was an arranged marriage, but we quickly grew to love each other, because we respected and we understood each other. I don’t want the kingdom to have a queen who resents her husband because she thinks he’s strange… who may play politics behind the scenes to have him killed so she can take power. Or who takes lovers, so we don’t know if the royal blood is even in the heirs. It’s more important to me that Arien’s wife respects him and understands him, and that he understands and respects her, than to have rulers who can detect all the subterranean undercurrents of a conversation. That’s what spymasters are for… and Dowager mothers and grandmothers, and perhaps even younger sisters.”

“Mother,” Arien said, “thank you. I know the people think I’m strange, and maybe I am, but you’ve always watched out for me. I didn’t even know I needed to find a wife who wouldn’t lie to protect my feelings until you pointed it out, and now it’s obvious.” He looked at the Dowager. “And Grandmother, Inaya does complement me. I understand mathematics, and finance, and things like that. She was trained by her parents to understand logistics, so she could run the castle, but she went deeper with it; she understands things about what kind of weather will do things to the crops and what will happen to the farmers when that occurs, things I never even thought about asking. Together I think she and I can make our country one of the most prosperous and happy nations in the world.”

***

And so it came to be. Prince Arien and Princess Inaya were wed in a lovely ceremony that they immediately fled to go on their honeymoon as soon as the marriage vows were taken. They understood the economics of the nation, and other nations, as few kings and queens ever did, and when they needed someone to tell them that someone else was lying, they had the Dowager Leyta and Princess Celia. The country prospered as it never had before, with no beggars on the streets of the cities, because the King and Queen gave homes to those who had none, and living expenses to those too sick or weak or lacking in some ability so that they couldn’t work.

It would be a lie to say they lived happily ever after, because no human can be happy all the time, and they had arguments and problems in their relationship from time to time. But even Arien the Honest and his Queen would agree that we can say they lived mostly happily for the rest of their lives.

[honalele]

Seventeen

This will all be over soon.

A vow.  

Ranboo placed the final bright red package on top of the large stack that sat in the middle of Big Q’s restaurant and stepped back to admire his work. It almost looked like Christmas, but instead of ugly sweaters and scented candles, these gifts were full of gunpowder. Ranboo breathed in the familiar smell. Mr. Soot said that he couldn’t stand it. Not after what he’d done to L’Manberg and especially not after what he said to Tommy. Even the smell of gunpowder on Ranboo’s clothing was enough to cause Mr. Soot to gag. Ranboo had to be sure to clean himself up after this final blow. Soon the van would monopolize the business. Soon he’d have proof that Mr. Soot was a changed man. Soon the voices would die down. All Ranboo needed to do was get rid of the competition.

“What are you doing?”

Ranboo’s heart turned to lead when he heard the familiar voice behind him. He held the detonator close, uncertainty clawing at the lining of his stomach.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” He said with his back still turned to the door.

“I forgot my jacket.” The boy responded. Ranboo let his fingertips graze over the remote’s button. Whatever was in his head toyed him with visions of what could happen if he pushed it at that very moment.

Two birds, one stone.

Everything in Ranboo’s mind screamed at him to press it, but every fiber in his body told him not to. It was like someone was playing a game of tug of war with his body, both sides aggressively trying to gain control, but tearing him at the seams in the process. The world that once appeared black and white had now become a grey abyss and he was lost in it.

Acting without hesitation is the cure to a gelatin bone structure.

Mr. Soot’s voice rang in Ranboo’s ears. He wanted to press the button so badly. The trigger was one flick away. And yet,

“Ranboo. Turn around.”

Tubbo.

Ranboo turned to face him. The voice in his head started shouting at him in refutation, but Ranboo couldn’t make out the words. He was too focused on the tacky comic burger stitched into Tubbo’s uniform.

“It’s not what it looks like. This… it was supposed to be a harmless prank, but…” Ranboo shivered, his body was growing tired. All he wanted to do was blow this place to the ground. Even if it cost both him and Tubbo their lives.

“You’re not yourself.” Tubbo said as he took a step forward. Ranboo took a step back in response and pointed the detonator threateningly at Tubbo, but the boy didn’t seem to be fazed. “This isn’t you.” His voice was nicer than the one shouting in Ranboo’s mind. He sounded so calm and so sure. But Ranboo’s mind recoiled and flashed him a vision of the explosion. It would hit Ranboo first, but his skin was tough and would absorb most of the blow. Tubbo’s skin on the other hand was much softer, as proven in the scars on his arms and in his face.

His face.

“Ranboo, look at me.”

Why couldn’t he bring himself to look at Tubbo’s face?

Listen to me.

The voice spoke, clearer than it had in a while. Panic flooded into Ranboo. He couldn’t tell who was in control anymore. His memories started slipping away like a loose balloon in a severe storm. His surroundings faded in and out with every breath as Ranboo struggled to keep control.

He wasn’t sure where he was or what was happening. Was he at the mansion? What was he holding? Was it Michael’s doll? The one with the blue buttoned-up dress?

Button.

The detonator. Right. He was holding a detonator. To what? What was he detonating? Perhaps the garage? The shed?

Press the button.

Someone was speaking to him, but he couldn’t place the voice. Ranboo’s thumb hovered over the button. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Ranboo.” Tubbo’s voice came through. He was close.

Ranboo felt a small tug on the sleeve of his uniform.

Uniform?

Tubbo was standing nearby, cradling the hand that Ranboo held the detonator in. Ranboo could tell that the boy was staring at him, and even though the voice screamed and his whole body withdrew at the thought of looking back, he did.

Tubbo’s gaze gripped tightly to Ranboo’s as if Tubbo believed that it was the only thing that kept Ranboo from falling off the edge of the world. The space around Ranboo froze, and he felt himself come out of his body. All the noise in his head had become muffled; tossed into a glass box and locked in the back of his mind. The once ominous mansion setting melted away and now he and Tubbo were stood in the middle of a snowy landscape with the sun shining down on them. Ranboo watched from the sky as his body place its free hand under Tubbo’s. The small voice screamed at him to claw Tubbo off and activate the redstone, but it was about as powerful as the whispers of a rat. The air around them was almost magical, and reminiscent of something sweet as strawberry. And Ranboo watched as his body simply held Tubbo’s hand.

Ranboo wanted to be that person, but he felt like he was looking at a photograph from another universe. It all seemed so distant.

“Hey, hold on. Don’t stop looking in my eyes.” Ranboo’s stomach rolled and he felt his vision narrow as he was suddenly pulled back into his body. He didn’t even realized that his gaze had shifted, but Tubbo had drawn him back. The boy reached up and held Ranboo’s cheek in the palm of his hand. “Why does it have to be this way? Can’t we be seventeen? Is that so hard to do?” His voice made it sound like such a simple task, but his eyes were welling up with tears, holding the amount of pain a seventeen year old should never have to hold. “If you could just let me in.” Ranboo felt his grip on the detonator loosen and fall into Tubbo’s hand. The voice gave one final cry of defeat, and then disappeared. And suddenly, Ranboo was back under the fluorescent lighting of the burger shop. He was back in his smelly uniform. Back with Tubbo. Suddenly, Ranboo was seventeen again.

“There he is.” Tubbo said with a relieved smile. Ranboo felt a stray tear run down his cheek. It burned into his skin, but Tubbo wiped it away. “Purple was never a good color for you anyway.” Ranboo wasn’t sure what Tubbo meant by that, but he was glad that everything seemed to be ok now.

Then suddenly glass shattered and fire rained down onto Ranboo’s skin. All the noise and static came back in a vengeful blur. Ranboo thought he heard Tubbo screaming at someone, but he couldn’t open his eyes.

“He broke the glass! The aquarium!”

The tiny voices of Ranboo’s particles forced themselves into his ears, feeding him all of the information that he couldn’t see.

“He wasn’t going to do anything! I was handling it!” Ranboo heard Tubbo’s voice yelling on top of all the terrible noise in his mind. Then, he felt that hand, that firm and caring grip, pull him up onto his feet.

“Tubbo, if you leave here without explaining yourself, I’ll make you clean the fryer!”

“Come on Ranboo, let’s go, let’s go.” Tubbo said as he pulled Ranboo along. And the slight giggle in his voice told Ranboo that they weren’t in any real danger. Ranboo allowed Tubbo to lead him through Las Nevadas completely blind and felt a strange sense of joy tear through him as the water droplets flew off his body and Tubbo’s laugh filled the air. He felt something flee from his mind, but like a dream that you couldn’t quite remember, it was gone in an instant. Ranboo didn’t bother searching for it, instead he focused on the present moment. Running somewhere with Tubbo.

Together they bounded across terrain unknown to Ranboo. Eventually they stopped, out of breath and satisfied with their distance. Tubbo propped Ranboo up against something solid and helped wipe the water from his face. Ranboo blinked up at the boy, his vision blurred at first, but finally focusing in on those brilliant blue eyes.

“Are you ok?” Tubbo breathed. Ranboo nodded silently and gave him a small smile. Tubbo rolled his eyes back and heaved a relieved sigh before flopping himself against the large boulder that he’d propped Ranboo against. “Thank the gods.” Ranboo blinked a few more times and began to take in his surroundings. They were sitting at the top of a large hill that looked down on Las Nevadas. The sun was just beginning to set, its fiery rays stretching out over golden sand dunes and silver mountains. That precious scent of summer swam through the air along with the lazy lightning-bugs that flew around them. Ranboo wasn’t quite sure what they were doing here. He couldn’t exactly remember why he was drenched in water or why it felt like his head was about to burst, but he was with Tubbo, so he assumed that everything was ok.

Then Tubbo folded his hand into Ranboo’s.

“Never scare me like that again.” He said. Ranboo turned to the boy who was looking at him with a stern expression. Ranboo wasn’t sure what Tubbo meant by that, but he gave him a reassuring nod all the same. The worry in Tubbo’s eyes didn’t vanish completely, but he seemed content with the response, turning to rest his head against Ranboo’s shoulder.

Never scare Tubbo.

A promise.

A memory.

A vow.

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Dabi x reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rough sex, name calling, alcohol, angst Word Count: 4185 Prompt: Fuck against a door A/N: A big thank you to @honeytama​ for giving this piece a quick read through before posting.

Tags: @bakugoukatsukiswife​

When You Joined the League of Villains everyone warned you about the same thing. Stay away from Dabi. It was simple enough advice which you took to heart at first, trying your hardest to leave the room when he would come in and only meeting him with a small smile and wave everytime he would greet you.

But you began to wonder why people warned you to stay away. Yes they gave their reasons, but everyone told you different things.

“He’s practically useless,” Shigaraki told you. “He never does his job correctly. He usually ends up incinerating people and just leaves their bodies lying around for the police to find. It’s like he’s leaving a trail right to the hideout.”

“He’s hot, don’t get me wrong,” Toga said, “but he’ll just break your heart and move on to his next victim.” It was clear as day that she wasn’t speaking from personal experience, rather out of suspicion or hearing the unfortunate crying of girls he’s dumped or kicked out in the middle of the night.

Twice had both good and bad things to say about Dabi. “He’s the best partner a guy could ever ask for. That jerk! He’s such an asshole!”

It was strange to you how different all of their responses were, and that difference only made you more curious about what kind of person Dabi is.

Your first real conversation took place at the bar. You had just come back from a mission with Toga. Your villain costume was covered with mats of blood and dust, and while Toga told you it made you look even cuter, you still couldn’t help but complain about the new found rips in the fabric from tumbling across concrete and gravel.

“Double scotch,” you told Kurogiri when you sat down at the bar.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Dabi leaning against one of the brick walls, cigarette hanging off his lips like a water droplet about to fall from a faucet. He took a drag of the cigarette. His eyes shot daggers at you from behind the hazy cloud of smoke that came from his lips. A lazy smirk etched its way on his face when Kurogiri set the drink in front of you and you took the first painful gulp.

“That’s a pretty bold drink for someone like you,” he said, leaning his back against the counter.

“How so?” You didn’t look up at him, instead opting to stir the ice cubes around and watch as they ever so slowly melted into the drink.

“Well I’d expect a bubbly princess like yourself to order something a little sweeter.”

Your eyes shifted to glare at him. The light emanating from the bulbs hanging from the ceiling bounced off his staples. The way it shined down on half of his face illuminated his blue eyes making them seem almost pretty. “What makes you think I’m a bubbly princess?”

That was good. Dabi likes it when a person has a bit of a bite to them, and your teeth were proving to be sharper than he thought. “You’re prissy,” he said.

“Prissy?” Your voice grew shrill at his comment, only proving his point. Your eyes had widened as you turned your head to look at him.

“Exactly.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was a staring match between the two of you, and the first person to speak would lose. “I’m not prissy.” It sounded more as if you needed to say it for yourself than anything.

“Then why are you so upset about a little dirt and blood on your outfit, doll?”

The nickname sent shivers down your spine and a warm blush crept over your face. How did he know you were so upset over that?

“Isn’t it just so,” he paused for a moment pretending to look for the right words. “Trivial?”

Trivial. That must be what he thinks of you. That you would drown yourself in whisky over a messy outfit when there are real injustices in the world. You’re pathetic. “I’m not prissy,” you repeated under your breath. It’s as if you were a robot having technical difficulties and could only say the one line.

Kurogiri placed a shot of whiskey on the counter for Dabi and took the empty glass away seconds later.

“Oh?” Dabi’s eyes widened as the shot ran down his throat and settled in his stomach. “You wanna prove it?” The blush creeping up your face ran cold as Dabi placed a scarred hand on your thigh. “Why don’t you come with me, doll.” His other hand delicately tucked itself under your chin and his thumb caressed your bottom lip. “Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

You’re not sure what you were thinking when you stood up to follow him, and it’s safe to say you regret getting on your knees for him. But what you wish most of all is that you didn’t enjoy it as much as you did.

With a new realization of why your fellow league members urged you to stay away from Dabi, you tried your hardest to avoid him. It was proving to be much more difficult than planned. The week following your alone time together he was hard to find. You suspected he was either out on the town or spending time in whatever shit-hole apartment he probably lives in.

You appreciated your week alone from him. It was silent and gave you time for reflection. You thought a lot about the night you shared and what your friends warned you about. As shitty as you felt, you couldn’t shake the memories of his hardened cock slipping in and out of your mouth with tears spilling out of your eyes as he grabbed the back of your head and thrusted his member down your throat.

Memories of you wanting to touch yourself but Dabi slapping your hand away rang through your head.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself, did I, princess?”

Flipping your pillow over and burying your head inside, you let out a muffled whine. The more you thought of how much you enjoyed that night, the crappier you ended up feeling.

“I need a drink,” you said to yourself. Standing up from your bed, you left your apartment and walked the few blocks down to Kurogiri’s bar. The wind seemed to brush right through you as you walked the dimly lit street. Even so, you didn’t bother going back to grab a jacket.

The bar was near empty, as you expected it to be on a Wednesday night, aside from the league members who like you had nothing better to do with their time. Shigaraki was sitting in a booth playing some video game. Looking up at you as you walked in, he gave you an acknowledging nod which you happily reciprocated.

Spinner, Toga and Twice waved you over to the booth they were laughing in, but you respectively declined to sit at the counter.

“Double scotch,” you told Kurogiri.

It wasn’t long before you could feel a warm presence behind you and hot breath tickling the back of your neck. “It’s been a minute since I’ve seen you, doll,” Dabi’s sly voice croaked out. “Don’t tell me I scared you off.”

“I should be saying the same thing to you.” You smiled at Kurogiri as he set the drink down in front of you. Even after taking a sip you refused to look at Dabi. You weren’t trying to play coy with him, you just knew that if you did look into those piercing blue eyes of his, you would freeze entirely.

“I shouldn’t be complaining,” he chuckled, turning around so that his lower back was flat against the edge of the counter. “But we both know that this little confidence act you have going on is just a decoy.” His eyes shifted to glare at you. Dabi has a way with words, and he could tell just how flustered you were getting underneath the layer of makeup you had put on earlier that day. “So why don’t we just cut to the chase and you follow me around back.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand that he knew you would follow. Kicking back the rest of your scotch, you squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the burning sensation to pass. You stood up to follow him into the back room, all while training your eyes on the hardwood floor.

It happened again and again. Dabi would approach you at the bar and you would end up with bruised knees the next day. At first it was a weekly ordeal, but after a while it became more regular. You were sucking him off so often that you were sure the other league members assumed you were dating. You were curious why no one bothered asking if you were a couple. Then you realized.

Dabi doesn’t do dating.

Still, you didn’t want to believe that you were nothing to him. He was the closest league member to you physically yet the most distant in all other forms. He had taken a liking to you so much that he let you put your mouth around his most intimate area. That had to mean something, right.

Walking into the bar on a Friday night, you scouted the booths of tipsy men gambling away what little money they have in order to find him. Tears pooled in your eyes, however, when you saw Dabi leaning against a booth talking to a young woman you had never seen before.

She twirled her fingers through her long black hair as she spoke to him, a tipsy smile on her face like she had just taken a hit off a joint. She reached out for what would be the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to her.

The sly smirk on his face didn’t go unnoticed by you. It was a smile your heart had grown to flutter at as you assumed he was only giving that smile to you.

The woman stood up and dragged him out of the building. As they walked right past you, he didn’t even bother to glance in your direction.

You cried yourself to sleep that night having finally realized what you were to him; a toy, his plaything, someone to abuse when he had nothing better to do. Loud muffled sobs echoed through your room as your feather pillows began to smell like mildew from the tears and snot that kept dripping out.

Your face was blotchy and the inside of your head felt like one big bug bite. You were miserable.

You ignored Shigaraki’s constant berate of texts and calls and missed your meeting with the league the next day, instead opting to watch reruns of shojo animes that appeared on your crap TV and eat copious amounts of instant ramen.

Eventually you texted Shigaraki back telling him you were sick. In a way you were. Every time you thought about going to the bar, more images of Dabi fondling that stupidly beautiful woman plastered themselves into your mind.

It’s not fair, you thought, how hard I’m falling for him and he doesn’t think to take a second glance at me.

Most of your day was spent yelling at yourself. You yelled at yourself for crying over a boy. You yelled at yourself for letting him get to you, for being so vulnerable that he could easily manipulate you into being his little puppet. But what you hated most of all was how you longed for him to stroke your hair, something he’s never done in a loving way, as you would sob into his chest.

Looking down at your knees, you frowned at the tender bruises that made you feel so exposed. You stood up to walk over to the poor excuse that you call a closet. The only items in there are a heavy duty jacket and a strapless dress that Toga got you as a birthday present. You never had a reason to wear it but it was long enough to cover your knees and that’s really all that mattered.

You slipped the dress on and spread it out with your hands. You modeled for yourself and couldn’t help but smile. She got your size right and everything.

Maybe you would go out tonight. You felt confident in the dress, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. After putting on makeup to hide the blotchiness of your face, you left your apartment and headed straight for the bar.

The bar was less crowded than usual for a weekend. Your fellow league members hung around their usual booths and a couple other parties of a few people looking to get wasted were strewn about various tables.

Strutting over to the counter, you could hear Toga gushing over how cute you looked in the dress she got you.

“Double scotch?” Kurogiri asked.

You scrunched up your nose trying to decide for a moment if that’s really what you wanted. “Let’s change it up. Gin and tonic.”

You watched as Kurogiri prepared your drink.  He handed it off to you and you thanked him. It was a lighter drink than you were used to, but you didn’t mind. If anything, you felt happier drinking something more bubbly.

“Howdy.”

You turned your head to face a rather confident stranger who had sat down in the stool next to you. You had never been approached by a stranger before. It was almost exciting. Maybe it was the dress or the lighter drink or maybe it was the sorrow you were trying so hard to mask over, but you felt as though you had a vote of confidence sitting next to this stranger. Taking another sip of your drink, you smiled at him. “Hi.”

“What is a fine young lady like yourself doing in a place like this?” His eyes raked up and down your form. Though you were slightly repulsed by the act, you giggled nonetheless.

“Just looking for a fun time,” you said, leaning your cheek against your hand.

The stranger bit his lip and looked down at your chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You were about to respond when a gruff hand grabbed your arm and yanked you away. “Sorry, pal. She’s not interested.” Dabi dragged you along towards the back room you two have spent oh so many nights together in. He flinged you in front of him and slammed the door behind. The only light in the room was coming from the full moon peeking its way through the window.

“What the hell, Dabi?” You raised your voice, something you were not used to. It felt off but at the same time empowering.

“What the hell? What do you mean what the hell?” The usual sultry look in his eyes was replaced with rage.

“Why did you drag me away from that guy?” You weren’t sobbing like you expected to be the next time you saw Dabi. No, the sadness that once clouded your mind was replaced with anger.

He scoffed. “Oh, so you think you can fuck any stranger just because it’s been a few days since I let you suck my dick.”

You cursed yourself for the small ache that formed between your thighs. And you hated that you could feel yourself getting wet as Dabi inched his way towards you.

“Nah, sweetheart. You belong to me.”

Those were the four little words that you longed to hear since the first day he forced his cock into your mouth, leaving a small bruise on the back of your throat. Now that you’re actually hearing them, all you wanted to do was scream.

“How can you fucking say that?” Now it was your turn to back him up against a wall. “I’ve seen you flirt with other girls at the bar. I’ve seen you leave with other girls at the bar. So don’t tell me I’m not allowed to talk to another guy when you’re clearly out and about fucking whoever. I don’t belong to anyone.”

You don’t remember the few seconds leading up to Dabi grabbing you and slamming you against the closed door. The next thing you do remember is his hands pinning your wrists against the wood. The moonlight illuminated his eyes that stared into you with a mixture of lust and anger.

It wasn’t long before he crashed his lips onto yours like you were the last meal he’d ever eat. It’s then that you realize that this was the first time he had actually kissed you. You had never fully tasted him until this point. He tasted like stale cigarettes and whiskey, an intoxicating combination.

Dabi pulled away, glaring at you. You tried to lean back in and recapture his lips, but you were stopped when one of his hands delicately gripped your throat.

“Do you really think you’ll find anyone who’s better than me?” Slowly and cautiously, his hand tightened around your throat, gripping it enough to feel your pulse in his hand. His deep chuckle bounced throughout the room. “You haven’t even seen what I can do.”

The hand around your throat left to wrap around your hips and hoist you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him. You couldn’t stop the look of shock from spreading across your face like butter as you felt the tent in his pants poking at your panties.

Dabi chuckled as he reached into your dress, pulling it down and scooping your boobs into his hands.

You gasped as you felt him latch his mouth onto your nipple. Your hands instinctively traveled to his hair to support yourself. You squished your body further into him.

“Someone’s eager.” His remark caused your nether regions to twitch. “Has sucking my cock not been enough for you, princess?”

You didn’t know what to say. So instead, you tugged on his hair letting him know that you wanted him to continue.

“I see,” he said. He began trailing open mouth kisses from your clavicle bone all the way up to the shell of your ear. “If you keep this up, I might just have to take you right here, where everyone can hear you screaming my name on the other side of that door.”

His words didn’t click immediately. All you could think about was the thought of screaming his name as his pierced tongue ran laps against your tender and puffy clitoris. “Please,” you whispered. “Please.”

It was one word that spoke numbers. Dabi’s shit-eating grin widened as he hiked up your dress. “Well then, I guess we better see how wet your little pussy is for me.” With your arms still wrapped around his neck, he gripped your ass with one hand, using his thumb to stroke up and down your already soaked panties. “You’re already this wet for me and I’ve barely touched you?” There was a hint of smugness to his words like he knew that he as good at sex and if you weren’t already soaked it wouldn’t be long before you were.

You bit your lips as the warmth from his palms dug into your core. In a split second, your panties were ripped and the remnants were left forgotten on the floor. You would have been mad if they were a nice pair or if you weren’t so focused on Dabi’s knuckles barely grazing your hardened clit.

“You want me so bad don’t you, you little slut?”

The words rang in your ears loud and clear. You do want him, more than anything.

Dabi sticks two fingers in his mouth and rubs them across your clit after gathering the slick from around the outside of your walls.

Your breath staggered a bit at feeling his warm fingers. You tried to grind your hips forward, matching his pace, but the way Dabi pulled at your hair and bit your collar bone told you to stop.

When he pushed his fingers deep inside you and your walls clenched around him, he could finally feel just how tight you were.

With your eyes squeezed shut and face contorting in ecstasy, Dabi could truly see just how beautiful you were to him. He slid two of his fingers inside and scissored them up and down, back and forth, just feeling the way your walls pulsated around him. He snickered at the sloshing sound of his fingers hooking around your walls and the little breaths that escaped your mouth.

Dabi pulled his hand out to spit on his four fingers, and rapidly rubbed them against your clit, causing you to cum instantly onto his palm. He caught you in his arms again before your knees could give out.

When the waves hitting you had finally subsided, you opened your eyes to find a smirking Dabi, clearly pleased with the performance you had just given him.

“Look at you,” he said, wiping his hand covered in your juices across your breast. “You’re so fucking messy. Did you do all of this just for me?”

The sight of you coming undone like that had him palming his dick through his black jeans. The ways your mascara trailed down your cheeks as tears rolled down the side of your face made him want to take you right then and there.

So he did.

Dabi made a big show of unbuckling his belt and letting his cock spring free.

Even though you had sucked his dick countless times, it looked so much more intimidating knowing it would be going inside you.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared, doll.” Dabi stroked his length, fondling the pieces of jewelry dawning its head and underside.

You found yourself drooling at remembering what his jacob’s ladder felt like against your tongue.

Hoisting you up again, Dabi slammed your back against the door. You could feel it wobbling against your back as your jaw went slack.

With your arms around his neck, Dabi pushed your still bruised knees to the side, exposing your tender pussy to the air. He held the base of his cock in one hand and gathered up as much slick as he could. Positioning his head along your opening, he snapped his hips forward, roughly penetrating you.

You let out a harsh moan that seemed to rile him up.

“That’s it.” Dabi eased out of you, only to snap his hips forward again. “Say my name.”

“Ngh. Dabi,” you muttered in a breathy moan.

“Louder.”

“Dabi!” Your throat felt raw at saying his name like that.

As his hips snapped forward and his piercing tickled the edge of your cervix, your back rubbed up against the old wood of the door. The burning sensation was beginning to feel unbearable, but the feeling of Dabi playing with your breasts and biting your neck distracted you from the pain.

“Who do you belong to?” he barked.

“You.”

“Who do you belong to!?”

“You dabi! I will always belong to you. I won’t fuck anyone else. Only you.”

He chuckled. “Not so much of a priss now, are you?” He grabbed your chin, forcing you to turn your head towards him. Your shaky breath tickled his face as he forced your hips further and further against the door.

You knew there would be bruises the next day, that you would probably ache all over, but you didn’t care.

Dabi pinched your clit and he thrusted into you and you couldn’t help but scream. Your pussy tightened and you came around him. He thrusted again, once, twice, until he shot his hot ropes of cum inside you.

He stayed there for a moment, knees shaking as your back was held against the wall. As the both of you caught your breath, you stroked a hand through his black hair, exposing a couple white roots into your sight.

Dabi pulled his softening cock out of you and tucked it back into his boxers.

Barely able to stand, you used his shoulder to prop yourself up and stretch your legs. “How do I look?” you asked, bleary eyes looking up at him. “Is my makeup too smudged?”

He smiled down at you, a smile you have never seen before. This one was sincere and in a way loving. “You look beautiful.” He wiped underneath your eye with his thumb “My little cumslut.”

As Dabi opened the door leading to the rest of the bar, you pulled the top of the dress back up to cover your tits and spread it down with your hands so it wouldn’t expose your pantyless ass. When you left the dark room you paused to see the entire bar was staring at you, both your friends and the complete strangers.

Toga had a shit-eating grin plastered along her face whereas Shigaraki looked at the two of you with disgust. Twice, in all honesty, looked like he was about to cry.

“Everybody here needs to back the fuck off,” Dabi said, looping an arm around your waste. “This one belongs to me.”

[lucycola]

The Lone Survivor: Part 5

TOS!Spock x Fem!Reader

Spock saves the reader from an icy starship crash, only to accidentally form a bond with them in the process. They are called to investigate a happening in the morgue, seemingly to face the unseen enemy that caused the crash in the first place.

PART(S) ONE TWO THREE FOUR

WARNINGS: Blood, violence, death, corpses, language, and sexual implications. The body eating gets vivid so if you can’t ride, please don’t. 

I’m so so so so sorry this took so long to come out. I’m not good at actions scenes so I did my best! Part 6 will be out soon. If I missed you on the tagged list I’m so sorry! 

Part 5: Isn’t is lovely? All alone. My heart made of glass, my mind of stone.

Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy tried to shield you from the carnage, but you broke through their human shield to see Commander Craft surveying the morgue with a grim expression.

Only a portion of the crew were brought aboard-the rest were still being recovered by multiple teams below. Along with Craft came other starships to help with the recovery. The tundra below was harsh and made recovery an even more difficult process. Bodies that were still intact were brought aboard the Enterprise to be identified. The others well were left in makeshift morgues below waiting to be put together with their other pieces.

What you hadn’t known before yesterday was that some of your crew had been devoured.

More had been devoured now. Bodies were littered about the morgue, torn from their bags. Some were only half eaten at the limbs and thighs. Heads and torsos were still left in contact where it was less meat and more viscera and soupy organs. The poor morgue workers were left alone.

“Blunt force trauma,” McCoy noted into his recorder. “Why didn’t it eat them?”

“It appears...it only ate the Calvary crew. The ones that had been on ice,” Kirk murmured, fist pressing into his teeth.

“It likes its food served cold,” you said, absent mindedly.

“Fascinating,” Spock said.

You glanced over the logs last input by the crewman, “He listed finding my father. Right here! Doctor L/N. My father’s dead. It must have kept his form.”

“Which must be why the creature could not be detected on our scanners. It perfectly mimicked the dead,” Spock said, bouncing ideas off of you, “It may be possible to feign the absence of a pulse or temperature-or perhaps it can alter its physical state enough to where it appears to be a lack of both.”

“Why did it take so long to recognize Doctor L/N, then? The man’s been dead for years.”

“The bodies were beamed up in droves, Jim,” Bones answered, “Then picked through. After were found the Calvary’s lone survivor we stopped bringing up one by one.”

“How...” Commander Craft said slowly, through ground teeth, “Could you be the only one?”

“I don’t know,” you answered.

“Four hundred men dead and you...still alive having wrecked in an escape pod,” the commander snarled, seemingly refusing to even look at you. He still surveyed the frozen dead.

“What?” you asked in disbelief, “I was in an escape pod?”

“Don’t play cute with me,” he jerked to look at you finally, eyes blazing, “You launched the pod right before the ship went down. My crew scouted out the area you were recovered from. Only a single pod launched with only you in it. Or did your husband not tell you that’s where he found you?”

“Spock, is this true?” Kirk asked.

“It seems I may have accidentally omitted such a finding...as I was not aware of it.”

“You’re a Vulcan-you don’t miss things,” Craft spat.

“One forgets my human half-although I have never found myself so personal with you, Commander, to share such a fact.”

Craft looked to you and back to Spock and then back to you again.

“You were both with one another the whole evening?” Commander Craft asked.

“I had two guards posted out side their quarters,” Kirk said, his temper flaring, “I doubt she’s in cahoots with the damn thing. Spock looked into her mind and it seems she’s nothing but a scapegoat for a monster to get its next meal! Now you can stop targeting my officers and start cooperating.”

You reached for Kirk’s arm desperately, “Captain, I didn’t put myself in that pod. Captain, I didn’t do this-you’ve got to believe me still.”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. What see is your crew in bits and pieces down here and that thing is going to do the same to my men,” Kirk said, patience wheedling thin. “Bridge, this is the captain. Issue a red alert. Lockdown all decks.”

“But captain,” a woman’s voice replied, “You just issued a command stating that the ship take a landing and to disregard any other orders.”

“Lieutenant, where was I when I gave such orders?”

“On deck three.”

x

The red alert beacon seemed like it would never fade into the background but it was eventually drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in your ears. Kirk had ordered you all to stay together after a trip to the armory and that you were all going to the third deck, whether the commander liked it or not.

The assent to the third deck was painful as the commander and Kirk had it out with one another. The lift felt extremely cramped, but the tension in the air made it worse.

Splitting up the party had perhaps been briefly suggested by your husband to cover more ground, to which the commander argued, “Don’t let Spock take her anywhere. I don’t trust those two!”

“No ones going anywhere unless it’s with me,” Kirk retorted, “Set your phasers to stun. We don’t know who the real crewmen will be apart from this thing. We don’t want to kill anyone else.”

“Then how to do we know you’re not the imposter then? How do we know the real you isn’t already on the third deck or even the bridge by now?” the commander asked, nearly spitting.

“I wouldn’t have asked to land. I’m getting really tired of you,” Kirk said.

The doors to the lift finally opened, showing and eerily empty third deck washed in the red light.

“Daddy?”

A small voice, a woman’s voice in fact so far away you could barely hear it.

The doctor stepped passed you eyes bugging out of his skull, “Didja hear that?” He whirled back around to you, “Did ya’ll hear that?”

“Indeed, doctor,” Spock replied, “It seemed to be coming from that corridor.”

“Daddy!” came the woman’s voice again, now sobbing and strangled.

“Joanna?” the doctor asked, immediately breaking away with full stride.

You seized him around the waist, trying to prevent him from going, “Wait-doctor-!”

“Simon!” came a wavering moan from the adjacent hall.

Commander Craft was less vocal than Bones and bolted immediately with a tailing Kirk who was then seized up by Spock, “Captain, don’t-”

“Daddy!” Joanna’s wail was blood curdling and McCoy broke free from your hold like a frenzied horse. You bolted after him immediately.

“T’hy’la!” Spock began to which in the confusion Kirk said, “Go after them-I’ll get Craft!”

x

Could it possible the creature could multiply? You hadn’t seen it for yourself, but fear blazoned in your body and drove your legs to pump themselves as far as they could go. You were younger than Bones, but your weak leg gave out. Spock was faster than you anticipated and with thundering footfalls you felt him upon you.

He swept you up quickly, “That was foolish.”

“It’ll kill him, Spock!”

“I do not think it can be many places at once or it would have acted upon the crew sooner.”

“It’s just throwing its voice?”

“Possibly.”

He was moving at a light sprint, cradling you up like a baby.

“If it likes its food cold it will go for the bridge. It’ll wreck the ship to the snow below,” you breathed, clutching onto Spock’s uniform.

“I suspect the same thing-” his running faltered a bit, “-it will pursue the captain in attempt to control the ship.”

“Fuck.”

x

“Jim!”

“Sam?”

Long ago had Kirk lost sight of Craft, now lurking beyond every corner. It seemed the third deck was empty and he found out quickly why it was so quiet, save the bells. He came upon the mangled bodies of his crew, not eaten, but twisted like rag dolls in their heaps.

Now it was mimicking his brother. The bastard of a thing-whatever it was.

“Jim, help!”

“I’m coming, Sam!” Kirk called, moving carefully down the hall, phaser in hand. It was leading to him to his own cabin. He knew his brother was dead, but it was almost like he couldn’t stop himself. It was a painful desperation and it burned like fire in his chest.

He opened the door and stepped inside. His room was the same as it had always been. Bed in one area, dress and mirror in the other. His antique weapon collection of old era muskets, sabers, and spears freckled his walls but were hard to be seen as the lights were oddly set dim.

“Captain!” a distressed voice cried from the corner. A female voice.

“Y/N?” Kirk asked, moving closer, “Kitty, is that you?”

The person moved from the corner and into the light and indeed to the captain it appeared to be you. But how? Kirk questioned.

Your face was beaten and your body was bloodied. Your dress which once was white was almost completely dyed scarlet and it was ripped all the way down, revealing your right shoulder and breasts.

Kirk snatched the blanket off the bed and brought it to cover you. “How did you get here so fast? Did it do this to you?”

“It ran as soon as it heard you. It was a man. He looked just like you. I thought it was you,” you cried.

He skimmed the tears off your face with his thumb, “There, there. I’m here now.”

“You’ve got to help me. Spock tricked me, Jim,” you said, moving closer. “I need you.”

x

The third deck was so confusing you (the real you) thought you and Spock would get lost but you honed in on the doctor’s desperate cries of “Joanna!” like breadcrumbs.

You both came to a dead end to see the doctor there, bumbling at the wall, clearly confused.

“Doctor!” you cried in relief.

“I heard Jo one second and the next-I’m at a loss!” he attempted to explain, scratching the back of his head.

The doctor stared at the bare wall as if his daughter was apart of its making. She was there in his ears and the next she wasn’t.

“She was never there,” you sighed, still cradled in Spock’s clutch.

“It was a trick, Doctor,” Spock concurred.

“Lemme down,” you reached for Bones almost desperately.

You felt like you had to touch him to truly know he was alright. His face looked alright as well as the rest of his body, but his eyes were still large with bewilderment and grief. Joanna had not been there, but she had sounded so real and seemed to be in so much pain as the ghost of your own father had been.

“Doctor, are you well enough to care for my wife? It seems she has reinjured her leg to some extent,” Spock inquired, allowing you to bear weight on your good limb.

Bones reached for you immediately and then asked Spock, “Where the hell are you going?”

“I must relocate the captain and Commander Craft for their safety,” Spock explained, already having turned promptly to leave.

He broke out into another sprint, which looked faster than it had while you were being carried. Vulcans were faster, stronger than humans naturally, it seemed.

Bones fussed over you and you shushed him, “It’s just a limp-I’m fine-no, we are not going to sickbay!”

“Where do you suggest we go then? We might as well be sitting ducks.”

“We’re going to catch up with, Spock,” you said in a definite tone.

“In your condition and mine? it’ll take this old man two weeks to get you there,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hey,” you grinned, “It’s not the first time you’ve walked a pretty girl down the aisle.”

Bones face heated up with a large grin.

x

The door shifted open and Spock was greeted with the sight of his nude wife fondling his captain. Except you were had been left in Bones’ care behind him. Something white hot and broiling ignited in his very being.

You could feel it from down the hall.

He’s mad-why is he so mad? you questioned internally, limping as fast as you could.

Kirk fired his phaser immediately into the creature’s belly, after letting it draw itself close. The mirror version of you somehow enclosed its hand around the firing phaser, crushing it completely.

Kirk shook his hand free, screaming. The creature seized Kirk by the shoulders and flung him effortlessly into the wall. He hit part of his antique weapon collection, spears and swords clattering to the ground with him.

“Captain-!”

“I’m alright.”

The imposter whirled around and grinned like a Cheshire, “Well the infamous Mister Spock! I can read the crew’s thoughts y’know. Plenty of gals seem to like you. But you only like this one, don’t you?”

The imposter ran her hand down her naked form, taunting him.

“Too bad your captain got the upper hand on your wife first. Didn’t even stop himself when given the opportunity.”

“That’s a lie, Spock,” Kirk choked.

Spock shot at the creature, phaser still set the stun. The creature was knocked back only a little, seemingly unfazed. Spock shot multiple times only with the same result.

“I like it rough,” the creature laughed, “Keep on.”

“Why did you place Lieutenant Y/L/N in the escape pod when you could have devoured her?” Spock inquired.

“I seek the weakest link of all that visit my land. I seek their fears, their sorrows and hers was most adequate for my use,” it said, “The other ships that follow after every crash always tend to stay longer when there’s someone to blame. Everyone likes someone to blame.”

“How many other starships have you sabotaged?” Kirk asked, moving slowly about the weapons on the floor.

“Enough to feed me my due.”

Kirk launched one of the old spears at the imposter and it grazed its belly, spurting purple blood.

“Run, Captain!” Spock ordered.

The creature seized the spear and thrust it a Kirk as he ran to the door. Spock was faster and quickly moved in front of Kirk, catching the spear deafly with one hand. The blade was merely inches from his nose. The phaser clattered to the ground.

“Fascinating,” the creature said mockingly and changed it form from you to Spock himself.

x

Eventually you and Bones were able follow the trail of downed crewman to the captain’s cabin. Upon opening the door you were gifted with the sight of two of your husbands wrestling with one other over some ancient spear.

Where the hell did that thing come from?

Long forgone on the floor was Spock’s phaser and you knelt to grab it.

“Jim!” Bones exclaimed.

Kirk was once again a heap on the floor, already having been assaulted twice by the imposter and saved by Spock. He was bleeding from his right flank.

Bones quickly moved to him, dragging you long with him.

“We’ve got--got to kill it--” Kirk stuttered, staggering upward. You caught him under the arm, supporting him. “The phaser doesn’t seem to work on stun. You have to set it to kill.”

Bones caught the other, “But how can we? Which one is it?”

You shakenly pointed the phaser even though it seemed it had no effect.

“Alright you two!” Kirk yelled, ‘Stop or we’ll be forced to shoot the both of you!”

The wrestling came to a still and the spear was tossed aside, rolling to your feet.

They were identical, completely. Fuck.

“T’hy’la, it is I,” said the one on the left.

“No, that is incorrect,” said the one on the left.

Down to the nose, the hair, the faint hue of green in their cheeks and lips. The familiar warmth pulled you at the back of your mind.

“Kitty, what are you doing?” Kirk began.

You moved forward, with two fingers extended, “Husband, attend.”

The one of the left immediately came forward and you felt the warmth surge closer at is it, enveloping your mind as your fingers touched.

“Fools!”

The one of the right’s entire mouth opened up as if it was a venous fly trap, launching itself at you and Spock. You fired the phaser, blasting a hole on its left side but it still came.

Kirk was faster on the draw, and launched the spear into the creature’s mouth, splattering purple liquid everywhere. Its lifeless body hit the ground with a wet thud.

The spear had ripped through its body and pierced itself into the wall behind it.

“Good shot, captain,” Spock said. “And you as well, wife.”

“Second time’s the charm,” Kirk said, holding his injured side.

You let out a dry sob, mixed in with a laugh. Bones patted your shoulder, letting out a large sigh.

PART SIX

tagged: @groovyfluxie @dontgivedeath @lumar014 @pringtella @moonchildlonan @superninjapervert420 @love-wanderlust15 @ischysiaclark@imyourspacegirlfriend @hiddlestonme @fandoms4ever97 @mywellspringoflife @rebelchild93 @nilalunis16

[thewalkingdead-imagines]

Negan Imagine ~ Magic

Summary: Negan takes you on a surprise trip to one of his favorite places on earth.

This is my entry for twdsunshine’s 3k followers writing challenge! I hope you all enjoy it!

The soft purling of the streak sounded through the air, mixing with the gentle breeze that whirled through the crowns of the trees, just enough to let their leaves rustle as you watched nature’s beauty unfold right before your eyes.  Tiny blossoms of lilac heather peaked through the spots of earth in between the rocks that formed the streak, their color enhanced by the warm light of the dusk that broke through the trees and danced over the water. It glimmered, like little diamonds that adorned the crowns of the waves as it made its way down the stream. It looked like a view you’d only see in movies, so filled with magic that you couldn’t peel your eyes from it. “Sweetheart, I’d love to stay here longer but I gotta get us to your surprise destination before sunset...’cause that’s where the real damn magic happens”, you heard Negan’s deep voice rumble, a chuckle falling from his lips as his warm hand grasped yours a little tighter and made you finally look back up at him,”Promise, it’s gonna be even prettier than here.” “Not really sure if that’s possible”, you said with a soft grin, watching the roguish smirk on his face expand a bit more over his handsome features. “Lemme prove it to you”, he said, winking before he nodded towards the small beaten path you’d been following until now,”It’s not far anymore.” “Alright...I’m curious”, you said, feeling a warm tingle run through your body as Negan tugged softly on your hand.  It didn’t need more than that for you to follow him, move back onto the path as your excitement grew with every step you took. Barely a minute later he lead you off the trial, into the undergrowth. It wasn’t too thick, just enough to still comfortably walk through it, though this little twist peaked your interest all the more. You kept looking out for something, kept observing Negan to see whether his reactions changed but he kept his pokerface on until more light started to gush through the spaces between the trees.  You could peak through them just enough to divine a glade behind them, though the curve of the small hill you were walking up kept you from seeing its entirety yet.  “Ah wait”, Negan suddenly said, stopping as he shot you a grin and earned a curious but confused look of you. “Surprise is surprise, right?”, he chuckled, his hand leaving yours for the first time in a whole while as he moved behind you. “What are you doing?”, you asked with a small laugh, turning your head towards him just as he rose up his hands to your head and you started to put two and two together. “Baby, I know you. If I’d tell you to close your eyes for the last few feet you’d peak. You’re curious as fuck”, he said, chuckling deeply as you let out a groan and nudged him softly with your elbow.  “Just sayin’ the truth, now close your eyes and lemme put my hands over that beautiful face of yours”, he said, winking at you one last time before you turned your head back around and allowed him to place his large, warm hands over your eyes.  “If you let me stumble over rocks or roots, I’ll chase you”, you chuckled as you made your first careful steps upwards, testing the ground beneath your shoes’ soles while a deep laugh rumbled through Negan’s chest. “I’m faster than you, doll”, he teased back, still leading you forwards,”Won’t let ya fall though, promise.” You only hummed in response, still focusing on your movements before you started to feel the soft breeze becoming a little stronger, barely noticeable but still enough to realize that the trees that had been shielding you from it up until now were gone.  “Alright, gonna let ya go now but I need you to keep your eyes closed for just another second, I wanna see your reaction”, he said, waiting for you to nod before his warmth left your face. You listened, keeping your eyes closed as you heard him move beside you while you almost bursted with excitement. “Okay”, he finally said before you started to open your eyes that slowly began to adjust to the light around you. 

For a moment, your breath seemed to stop as you started to take in the beauty that unfolded right before you, even more beautiful than the view earlier, just as he’d promised.  A small valley was stretching out right in front of you, most of it covered in the blossoming, lilac heather and here and there, a few bright green grassy spots were peaking out in between them. A few birches had struck roots within the deepest spots of the valley, their white stems were lit up in warm, orange tones right where the evening sun hit them and from up here, they almost seemed small. Right beside them, a few deers were grazing peacefully while two or three others were napping in between the heather, though you were sure there were more of them hiding in between the flowers, finding their peace for the night.  it looked magical, from the flowers, to the trees, to the deers, everything seemed to be bathing in the warm dusk light that let the scenery look like straight out of a fairytale.  “Wow”, it fell from your lips as you were still staring at the landscape, so taken aback by its beauty that you could barely say anything else. “I was right, huh?”, Negan asked, a big grin plastered over his face as you peeled your glance from the pretty view and nodded. “How did you find this?”, you asked, glimpsing at him as he let out a deep chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “Magic”, he grinned, though a small snort left his lips as you tilted your head a little and raised your brows, too curious to be satisfied with his answer. “My mom used to take me here sometimes as a kid”, he finally said with a small sigh, his glance wandering back down the valley,”Y’know, when things got too hard and she thought we just needed a break from reality.” You gave him another small nod as he glimpsed back at you, the big grin now a small but warm smile as he moved in to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you gently into his side. “Always wanted to take you here but it only blooms like that once a year”, he said, nodding towards the heather,”It’s always beautiful but I thought it would be the best to introduce you to it when it’s in its full damn beauty.” A bigger smile started to grow on your lips and a fuzzy feeling spread through you as Negan glanced down at you and tightened his arm around you a little, “And ‘cause I thought the both of us could use a damn break from reality too...well, I thought now was the right moment.” “Thank you”, you mumbled, still taken aback as you wrapped an arm around him to hug him back, nuzzling your nose against his shirt as a wider smile grew on your face,”I don’t even know what to say.” “Already? This isn’t all though”, Negan retorted with a chuckle, enough to let you look back up at him as he gestured towards the backpack that hung from his shoulders,”Didn’t pack this fucking big bag for nothin’.” An excited expression pressed in over his features as he didn’t say more but instead loosened his embrace and grasped your hand so he could start to lead you down the hill.  You didn’t move all to far down, just a little until you could spot a small, natural platform that had formed through the hill’s curves, a sweet little spot between some small heather flowers that seemed like a perfect place to rest.  You watched as Negan let go of you and moved towards the spot, kicking a few smaller rocks off of it before he let down his backpack and pulled a wrapped up picnic blanket out. He was quick to spread it out over the grassy ground and dragged his backpack closer before he plumped down onto it and grinned up a you. “C’mon, lets get comfy”, he said, patting the blanket as you moved towards him and sat down on the fabric while he reached back into the backpack, grinning wider as he could see the curiosity plastered over your face.  “Alrighty, here we go. We’ve got our two besties, whiskey and wine”, Negan said proudly, pulling two bottles out, wiggling some cooling pads off of them that fell right back into the bag before he moved his hands to feel the glass surfaces and let out an excited sound,”Those fuckers actually stayed cold...can’t believe this cooling shit actually worked.” He grinned to himself before he reached back inside and first took two glasses and then two smaller boxes out, holding them up for a moment as he gave you another wink. “And some snacks...got some bread, spread, fruit and some of those bacon-cheese sticks stuff you liked...y’know all that good shit”, he said, placing them beside the backpack before he pulled another one out and let your mouth drop slightly open as you saw how much of an effort he’d made. “Baby, if you keep your mouth this open some bug’s gonna fly in there”, you heard him say with a smirk as he looked back up at you, moving his finger up to gesture with a wiggle at your lips before you let out a snort and playfully swatted his finger away. “Idiot”, you laughed, only watching the smirk on his lips grow wider ,”I’m just impressed....that surprise worked.” “Good”, he mumbled, before he moved over to grasp your hand and give you a nod, “C’mere.” You didn’t need another invitation to climb over to him and move into the spot between his legs, sighing as you could lean back against his warm, broad chest. His arms were quick to wrap around you and cradle you closer, holding you tightly as he pressed a kiss against your temple. A thick but content sigh fell from your lips as you felt his rough beard stubble brush softly against your skin, nudging you to sink deeper into his embrace. “You wanna drink something?”, he mumbled against your skin before he backed a little off and raised his brows at you while you quickly nodded. “Yep, can’t let it get warm after you did all that to keep ‘em cold”, you said with a grin as Negan reached for the bottles, “Think I’ll start with the wine.” “Yes, Ma’am”, Negan chuckled, moving in to pour some wine in one of the glasses for you before he got some whiskey for himself and handed you the drink. “Cheers”, he said, raising his glass to you before he let out a deep chuckle,”Oh and look into my damn eyes, doll. Y’know what they say, no eye contact during a toast gets ya seven years of bad sex, can’t have that.” “Well, I don’t think bad sex is possible with you either way”, you chuckled as you raised your glass to him as well, grinning as he let out a thick laugh. “Damn, you’re trying to make me blush?”, he chuckled back, winking at you before he let his glass clink gently against yours, sure to keep your eye contact. “Maybe”, you chuckled, before you took your first sip and let out a content sigh, “That’s good.” “Sure hope so”, Negan grinned back, gulping down some of his whiskey while you leaned back against him and cuddled closer, feeling how he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist and rested his head against yours as your glance swayed over the landscape.  The sun was starting to sink behind the skyline of the trees, surrounding their crowns with a glowing line of its last but warm light, while its last rays were dancing over the grass and the heather. It seemed to look more magical with every passing moment, with each new spot you seemed to discover and with each glance you got at the flowers, the grazing deers and the softly swinging trees. A large smile was spreading over your face as you cuddled closer into Negan’s embrace, allowing him to engulf you with his warmth and comforting scent while more and more happiness washed over you. “Thank you...so so much, it’s perfect”, you mumbled, placing your glass securely beside you before turning your head a little so you could look at him ,”You’re the best...I got so lucky with you.” Negan’s eyes lit up as the small laughter lines at the sides of his eyes wrinkled softly and his dimples sunk slightly in as a warm smile widened his lips. You knew how badly he needed to hear this last sentence from time to time, reassure him that he was being a good partner to you. And he was, not only a good one, he truly was the best you could have ever wished for.  Glancing only a mere second away he placed his glass beside himself, sure to not drop it before his glance captured yours again as his rough hand reached up to cup the side of your face. Leaning in, he let his lips meet yours in a kiss, loving and surprisingly soft, yet with enough passion to let you realize how much joy he was feeling as well. “I love you, Sweetheart”, you could hear him mumble against your lips ,”So goddamn much.” He moved in to peck your lips once more, allowing you to taste the hint of whiskey that was still laying on his lips before he backed a little away to look you over, the adoration in his eyes giving you an even warmer feeling than the one that was already cozily making itself at home in your body. “I love you too”, you mumbled back with a bright smile before he moved to cradle you back against himself, hold you tight but comfortably as you watched the sunset fill the rest of the sky.  Sighing softly, you sunk deeper into Negan’s embrace, trying to soak up everything about the moment that would turn into a dreamish night, with drinks and snacks, the most beautiful view you could imagine, and most importantly, with Negan right by your side.