#them tall skinny boys

[mt-nynj-queer]

[junotter]

My redesigns for aged up gaang

[sunarctus]

you’d think the safehouse was big enough to not run into each other....

....you’d be wrong, Rudy is tired...

based on photo under cut from @ihatemyself-lmfao​​

I’m probably gonna finish this so ppl pls lemme know if I should actually draw Rodolfo or just leave him in blocky form to convey his fatigue

[caenor-au]

your physical body and your mental body being radically different gives you such specific ass dysphoria i hate it. why can't real life also have incredibly complex customising screens that allow you to always have the exact appearance you're after

[ambreiiigns]

i love wearing shoes i don't usually wear that are Cool i never wanna take them off i've been wearing these heeled boots for the past three hours that i've been home just. laying on the bed kicking my feet like light yagami. sitting at my desk drawing ghouls. in heels

[bbeelzemon]

yknow, i think going just by sheer numbers, i have probably drawn humanoid characters with a fat body type more times than ive drawn literally any other body type combined

[cagesings]

@honorhearted​  sent:  7.  is  your  muse  the  big  spoon  or  the  little  spoon?  9.  is  your  muse  attracted  to  any  features  in  particular?

 7.  is  your  muse  the  big  spoon  or  the  little  spoon?

 i’ve  actually  had  conversations  about  this  and  the  conclusion  is,  well,  complicated.  i  think  johanna  would  rather  be  the  big  spoon  due  to  her  body  image  issues.  part  of  her  doesn’t  want  her  romantic  partner  to  discover  what  she  considers  to  be  a  fault  (  which,  in  reality,  are  usually  non-existent  or  incredibly  minor  ).  johanna  is  almost  very  claustrophobic.  she  won’t  be  in  a  room  if  the  door  is  locked  and  refuses  to  wear  prefers  shawls  to  coats  in  her  nineteenth  century  canon  because  of  the  straight  jackets  at  foggs.  even  something  like  being  the  little  spoon  might  set  it  off.  however,  i  think  she  ends  up  being  the  little  spoon  most  of  the  time.  for  one  thing,  she’s  tiny.  but  she  secretly  loves  to  be  held  like  that.  it  takes  a  lot  for  her  to  admit  something  like  that  because  yes,  even  though  spooning  does  not  have  to  be  sensual  at  all,  she  lowkey  considers  it  to  be.  cuddling  is  something  only  reserved  for  romantic  partners  because  in  her  mind  in  general,  it’s  too  intimate  for  anyone  else,  and  with  the  anything  within  the  more  sensual  activities  category,  it  needs  to  be  communicated  and  talked  out  a  lot.  then,  she’s  comfortable  being  the  little  spoon.  

 9.  is  your  muse  attracted  to  any  features  in  particular?

 this  is  something  you  will  never  hear  johanna  admit  to  herself.  that  said,  she  is  incredibly  attracted  to  tall  men.  she’s  very  short  and  she  crushes  on  tall  men  because  they  can  protect  her  and  they’re  so  tall  and  ahh!!  also  hair  is  a  big  one  for  her.  i  ramble  on  and  on  about  how  much  johanna  loves  her  own  hair  so  why  wouldn’t  it  be  a  feature  she’s  super  attracted  to?  she  doesn’t  have  a  specific  type  of  hair  that  she’s  into.  it  just  needs  to  be  soft  and  look  like  she  could  run  her  hands  through  it.  to  a  lesser  extent,  she  looks  a  lot  at  arms.  do  they  look  like  arms  that  could  wrap  around  her  and  make  her  feel  safe??  cool.  she’s  into  that.  

[deadghosy]

Hey!! I have a request! Could you do the hazbin hotel characters and fem! CatNap reader! I know CatNap is a boy but I would like to see what kind of head canons they would have for a female version of CatNap. Also maybe reader would love chasing things around since cats do that?

HAZBIN HOTEL X FEM CATNAP!READER HEADCANNONS

prompt: you are female resident who helps sinners with insomnia

OKAY FIRST OFF! YOU DEFINITELY STILL SMELL LIKE VANILLA AND LAVENDER!🦆 NO ONE CAN ARGUE ABOUT THIS TO ME 😭

What I headcannon is kinda cartoony as reader has her legs cross as she just nods listening to a sinner’s sleep problem as she is just wearing glasses and a vest. Dead ass she just knocks them out like. “Problem solved!”

Charlie made you a room so residents and sinners could come in and have you help them sleep. Like either you knock them out and walk away. Or you actually stop being a lazy mofo and help them personally.

I headcannon based on the fluffy plush bodies that reader is still flat like the male catnap, cause obviously she doesn’t have a chest just like the plush body of Bobby bearhug. That’s basically how I imagine reader’s body is with her being like a little more skinny but definitely having trouble with people asking what her gender is.

“I’m a fucking cat, that’s what I am.” Is what reader would say irritated as it’s obvious in her feminine/decent voice.

Sassy catnap!reader is a goal as you would literally just do shit for shits and giggles😭✨🔥

Headcannon you have a purple vest with a white dress shirt and a black or white skirt with a few moon patterns on it while the color of your dress shirt as a moon pendent💗🦆

You straight up knocked a person out with your red smoke because they had sexualized you during the session and all you had to say was. “Oh really? Count to three…” “count to wh-” immediate knocked out as they fell face first from the chair as you smile with a full grin.

You used your claws to cut open a piece of candy for nifty as she hugs you and walked away happy. You love helping….

Alastor ran from you as you were chasing after him like a predator because he said he doesn’t need sleep…okay so imagine this….

You are sneaking like a lion behind Alastor as he drinks tea and he is like “I feel watched” with a sweatdropped and next thing people see in the halls is you grinning as you drag a motionless Alastor who still holds his tea up.

You wrapped your tail around Charlie to help her put up a banner as you file your claws as it was time to trim them. Like I imagine that as vaggie is like “What.” With a blank confused face seeing her girlfriend get lifted by a 8ft tall female cat

I can see reader having those teas that help people to sleep just incase they don’t like being passed out “force”. So you just make them tea as you listen to them rant as they fall asleep

Imagine reader reading a book as Lucifer is having a hyper moment behind her as she just peacefully reads….

It gives off “calm friend x hyper friend” vibes

Lucifer had one time patted you, and kept petting you until you purred so he can feel relaxed. He likes your purrs.

The duck king definitely has a picture of you purring on his lap…he even has it as his wallpaper kinda because of how soft and good smelling your fur is

OOOH IMAGINE YOU AND ANGEL HAVING A FASHION SHOW IN HIS ROOM💗🦆

Angel definitely gets you some nice clothes to match your aesthetic or purple clothing with white and cream.

You carry nifty in your mouth as if she was your kit….its cute okay…like niffty straight up smile as you hold her like your own kitten.

“This is ma mom now!” Nifty says happily as you just walk around with the back of her dress in your mouth.

Cherri bomb was good about you by Angel dust as Angel had put an image of how cool and badass you are at not following the rules. She always tries to persuade you into giving her your red smoke to make bombs out of it. SHE ONLY WANTS TO CAUSE DESTRUCTION!!!🦆‼️

Sir Pentious brings his egg boiz to you when they can’t sleep so you can use your red smoke on them. They snuggle in your purple fur as you just play a lullaby for them

I imagine you and husk purring by each other out of no where confused…but it’s because of your peaceful scent installed in your fur and body.

You still have your signature cocky smile before you knock a bitch out with the gas coming from your mouth.

I can see how you have a moon ring as [favorite hazbin hotel character] has a sun ring to show off your friendship with them

Imagine how reader gets groomed by the whole hazbin hotel crew because of their 8ft tall frame…there’s a lot of extra work in grooming your fur.

You definitely have those candles as well with that lavender smell with hint of vanilla. You have so much aromatherapy stuff for people. You might as well be the aroma goddess-

I headcannon you using your demon form (basically that form where the player sees catnap as a skinny monster) to scare people 😭 you’re an asshole as I imagine Angel getting ready for his morning to only see you behind the shower curtain with a creepy smile

Angel screamed and ran out the room looking crazy…..😭 Charlie found out and made you apologize to Angel as he was locked in his room..

He’s definitely not going to the bathroom alone-

Just like my other catnap! Reader, you definitely walk around slowly but stealthy releasing that poppy gas just incase a resident or your friends try sneaking out. “It’s time for bed…” you says quietly as you move smoothly around the hotel hallways

Just like before, Lucifer was scared of you until you showed him you can be quite the loving person you can be. Like Lucifer will lay on your body for comfort if he was getting busy from paper work in his office.

I can imagine Angel trying to get you to use your gas on Valentino and you’re like “sure” as you put a jar to your mouth and release it and give it to Angel.

[sansaorgana]

— STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — He's a psychotic killing machine and you're a shy and innocent lady. You have nothing in common except for the fact your bloodlines have been manipulated for centuries to create a match. And you seem to be destined to be together.

REQUEST — (1) // (2) // (3)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I don't write children!Readers unless it's for the retrospections and memories. That's why I combined all these requests into one fic. Some parts of the requests didn't make it but I felt like it was already getting long 🙈 I included the trope of Feyd and Reader being destined to be together – some sort of Soulmates AU, I guess? ✨

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, spiders, mentions of Baron Harkonnen abusing Feyd, SMUT, fingering, oral, hints of innocence kink, The Harpies being a bit non-consensual

WORD COUNT — 7,500

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

Giedi Prime was surely a scary and intimidating place for a twelve years old girl. The lack of colour and friendly faces made you shiver and anxiously cling to your father’s hand. You couldn’t understand why he had insisted on you accompanying him on this official state visit for the meeting with Baron Harkonnen. He would never want to take you with him to much more pleasant places. You were too young to understand the hidden agenda, the Bene Gesserit scheming – whose plans had been destroyed by Lady Jessica giving birth to a son instead of a daughter. They needed a new match for the young na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, The Baron’s nephew. After years of searching and studying many possibilities, they had decided to create a union between your House and The Harkonnens. Your father was more than happy – it was an honour to bond with such a powerful family. You were from one of the planets of a lesser importance. That was the reason for The Baron’s distrust towards the plan. He would rather see his nephew marrying a great lady, perhaps even an Imperial Princess.

While he talked to your father, you were left alone with no one but one guard in an empty room. You were sitting on a black couch and looking with awe at the portraits on the walls. All men looked the same on them – big, bald, hairless and scary. They fascinated you as much as they intimidated you.

After a while, the doors leading to the corridor opened and you startled at the sight of a boy more-less your age entering confidently with a contemptuous look upon his face. He looked like all The Harkonnens – sickly and scary. He was wearing clothes you had only seen on gladiators and warriors before but it looked disturbing on a body so skinny and small, even though he was tall for his age. There was a splash of blood upon his face and it made you gasp and take a step back. He smirked at you.

“So, that’s you? Disappointing,” he commented harshly as you swallowed thickly.

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” You looked nervously at the guard but he remained stoic.

“I’m Feyd,” he introduced himself. “My training has been interrupted and I’ve been told to meet you for whatever reason. Haven’t expected such a scared, little bunny,” he sneered and you spotted his teeth were black. They didn’t look rotten, though.

“What happened to your teeth?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“My Uncle made the medics paint them black to intimidate my enemies,” he answered, proudly.

“What kind of enemies might a twelve year old have?” You asked, surprised.

You had no enemies. Your life was of a typical spoiled young lady – full of mother’s kisses, father’s embraces, candies, ponies and maids braiding your hair in the evening while telling you tales of handsome and brave prince charmings. You couldn't imagine that it was different for other people.

“You’re stupid,” Feyd pointed out and you shut your mouth, feeling hurt at his words as tears pricked your eyes. He approached you and you took a step back, scared of him. “Don’t cry,” he tilted his head at the sight of your wet eyes. “Has no one ever told you that you were stupid?” Now it was his time to be surprised and you shook your head. “Do you want to see something?” He proposed as his eyes sparkled.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, genuinely.

“I will protect you,” he offered his pale hand and you looked at it with fear in your eyes.

“I am scared of you,” you raised your eyes to lay them on his face again while you explained.

“Good,” he nodded with a chuckle. “But I’d get in trouble if something happened to you. You are the daughter of my uncle’s guest. Come,” he encouraged.

Your status gave you courage as your curiosity only fueled your desire to actually follow him. Just like the portraits on these walls – he was as intimidating as fascinating to you. Perhaps because you had never before met such a boy.

You took his cold hand and a shiver went down your spine. For a short while, you thought you would faint as an odd feeling filled your small body. A familiar warmth that you only felt when you were back home, in your bed, feeling safe and sound with the nanny or your mother caressing your head to help you sleep. Like he was home. But he couldn’t be. You had never met him and he was scary. 

“Have you felt that, too?” You gasped.

“No,” Feyd lied. “Come,” he dragged you behind him and the guard opened the doors in front of you.

Feyd took you down the corridor and led you downstairs to some sort of dungeons beneath the fortress. You were starting to have a bad feeling about it but something deep inside you made you trust that odd boy. Without understanding it yet, you were starting to realise he was the one who had been meant for you from the day you were born. There was some connection between your bloodlines that was drawing you towards each other.

You found yourself in an old, dark and damp room. It smelt of something rotten and it was full of spiderwebs.

“What is this place? It’s disgusting,” you pointed out as you winced. Feyd let go of your hand and sneered at you.

“Life is unpleasant. The sooner you learn that, the better,” he pointed out and suddenly, he reached for a short knife by his waist you had not noticed before. You yelped at the sight, convinced he had only dragged you there to kill you.

“Don’t be silly, I won’t hurt you,” he rolled his eyes and you nodded, unsurely. “Do you want to see me kill something?” He smirked playfully at you.

It felt wrong and you felt the anxiety rising in your abdomen when you realised you’d get in trouble for that. On the other hand, you did want to see him kill something. It was curiosity mixed with excitement to witness something forbidden and something you had been sheltered from.

“Yes,” you nodded, eagerly. He was a little surprised at your reaction but he only smiled.

Feyd beckoned you over by waving his hand and you followed him, quietly. Then you gasped and covered your mouth as you gagged out of disgust at the sight of a big, fat spider in the corner of the room. It was huge – nearly as big as you were. But it was also fat and slow. The legs were long and thin, furry black sticks.

“I found it a few days ago,” Feyd told you as he looked at your disgusted face. “Gross, isn’t she?”

You nodded.

“She reminds me of my uncle,” Feyd explained with hatred in his voice. “Do you see those small spiders on the ground?” He asked and you looked down. It was full of smaller spiders but they were all laying there dead. “She feeds off of her own children.”

You took a step back, utterly disgusted and sick. Feyd snorted at you and turned his back on you to gut the big, black spider. You watched with terror how much satisfaction it was giving him. He struck the monstrosity so many times that you lost count. He kept striking when it was already laying there dead.

“That’s enough,” you whispered and Feyd froze before turning around to face you. There was pure murder in his eyes and when he walked towards you with a knife in his hand, you were sure he would kill you now, too.

You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes, expecting the worst. But when you felt his breath on your face, you heard him hiding the knife away.

“Stupid little bunny,” he told you and you opened your eyes, hesitantly. He was staring at you as if he was studying your face.

The door opened suddenly and a few guards entered, sighing out of relief. Your father was standing behind them, scared. Baron Harkonnen was there as well, floating ominously.

“There you are!” He raised his voice and you spotted that all Feyd’s confidence was gone in a second. The boy looked down and blushed. “I’ve told you to behave. Why are you scaring Lady (Y/N)?!”

You turned around to face The Baron, hiding his nephew’s from his sight with your small body.

“He did not scare me, my Lord,” you assured with a slight bow of your head. “I wanted Feyd-Rautha to show me around,” you lied to protect him.

You had a feeling his uncle would punish him and he looked like a man you would never want a punishment from.

“She’s naive,” your father tried to save the situation. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he reminded you and grabbed you by your wrist to pull you closer to him. “Forgive my daughter, my Lord Baron.”

“She is forgiven,” the big man smirked viciously before lying his eyes on his nephew. “The boy, however, is not.”

You wanted to protest but your father gave you a stern look and announced it was time for you to leave now. So, you obeyed and walked away, following the guard leading you out of the corridor. But you kept looking behind, trying to see Feyd-Rautha for the last time.

“Will I see him again?” You asked your father, looking up.

“Who?”

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” you explained and your father sighed as he looked down at you.

“You will in eight years,” he announced. “You will become his wife.”

Those eight years you had not wasted a day, practising for your new role every day. Learning all about The Harkonnens; their culture, their history, their customs and war strategies. You knew that their nobility would not give you an easy time for being a Lady of the lesser house. You wanted to prove your worth with knowledge.

Your wisdom was your only weapon because you lacked confidence nor experience in nearly anything. Sheltered your whole life, surrounded by books and teachers, you were shy and innocent. The spider incident on Giedi Prime still remained your only sin – that no one except your husband-to-be possessed the knowledge of.

You had not been in touch with him at all but the stories had reached you about his nature and his victories in the gladiator arena. You believed them all because your short encounter had been enough to give you an idea about what kind of man he would become. You had never protested whenever your marriage was mentioned but you felt anxious. You didn’t belong on Giedi Prime, you didn’t fit in the world of death and violence.

Tested by Gom Jabbar, you nearly failed the test. The scary Reverend Mother gave your mother a look of disapproval. On the very next day you were shipped to Giedi Prime for your wedding, though. You had survived the trial and only that mattered – the long-planned scheming couldn’t be sabotaged.

On the day of your arrival, you were led with your parents to a room you had remembered from your last visit. There was the same black couch and the same portraits on the wall – only now there was one more than before. The last one in line, of a young man with handsome facial features, signed with your betrothed’s name. You opened your mouth slightly as you kept staring at it. He was a young and handsome na-baron; a strong warrior surrounded by men and women who admired him. You could only imagine how inconvenient a marriage had to be for him. Especially to an uninteresting and unimportant woman like you.

The doors opened and you turned around to see him in real life as he entered the room in black gladiator gear. He looked better than in the portrait – raw and magnetic, dangerous. Your parents stiffened at the sight of him and they both bowed their heads.

“Lord Na-Baron,” your father greeted him. “We have delivered our daughter to you, according to the agreement,” he explained. “We have hoped to be greeted by your uncle The Baron.”

“He’s busy,” Feyd interrupted your father in a low and raspy voice that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes were only fixated on you – curious and mocking. You bowed down slightly as well, not wanting to disrespect him.

“Y-yes, of course, my Lord…” your father took a step back.

“You’re grown now,” Feyd-Rautha stood in front of you with a smirk and you took a deep, shaky breath in.

“So are you, my Lord Na-Baron,” you nodded.

“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Feyd turned around to give your father a contemptuous look. “A timid little bunny. But it’s no surprise since she’s been raised by a coward and bootlicker like you.”

“My daughter is of many qualities, my Lord, I can assure you…” your father panicked.

“A wife only needs one quality,” Feyd sneered at him as your blood ran cold at his words. “Show them to their rooms,” he told the guards and left the room.

“I can’t believe you’ve made deals with these people,” your mother snapped angrily at your father who was standing there with his head kept low, ashamed.

But it was not like he had any saying in this. It was the plan of the Bene Gesserit. You were nothing but pawns in it. You tried to remember that Feyd-Rautha was a pawn, too.

After the scary and bloody wedding party, you were taken to your husband’s bedroom where you were supposed to be prepared for the wedding night. However, it was not the maids waiting for you there. Three bald Harkonnen women were sitting on your husband’s bed and smirking at you, showing off their sharp teeth. They were dressed in black leather and clinging to each other as if they were one body instead of three.

“We will prepare her for the Master,” one of them told the servants who had taken you there. You looked at them with panic and they only looked back with guilt and compassion before walking out as quickly as possible, leaving you alone with the scary snake-like creatures.

They were circling around you, sniffing you and chuckling contemptuously. You didn’t understand anything but you tried to bravely keep still and endure. Then, one of them approached you and licked a fat stripe across your cheek. Your eyes widened in terror.

“Oh-so-innocent,” she commented. “Have you ever pleased a man?” She asked.

You were terrified and embarrassed, you didn’t know what to do.

“N-no, my Lady,” you stuttered and nodded your head, unsure how to address her.

They all found it amusing as they laughed.

“My Lady, she calls me. I might like this one,” the woman caressed your hair with some sort of perverted delicacy that made you feel even more scared. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands turned cold and sweaty. “I’m not a lady, na-baroness. I am your husband’s whore,” she informed you and you nodded again, hesitantly. “We are his favourite pets. You see… Our Master likes perversion,” her hands landed on your hips as she pulled you closer to her body. “We will teach you how to please him and how to take him.”

“He’s a lot to take,” another woman stood behind you and grabbed your breasts from behind.

“W-won’t he mind, my husband?” You swallowed thickly.

“Not at all,” the third one giggled. “He always shares his toys.”

“Not this one,” the doors opened as Feyd-Rautha entered the room. He glanced at the women angrily and they immediately let go of you and moved away. “She is not a toy, she is your na-baroness. What are you doing here?” He snapped. “Have I not forbidden you from entering this room from now on?”

“Oh, Master…” one of them approached him to put her arms around his neck but he pushed her away.

“Get out,” he hissed and they ran away.

When the doors closed behind them, Feyd looked at you and sighed before approaching you and caressing your cheek.

“You alright, wife?” He asked.

“Y-yes, thank you,” you nodded and flinched at the feeling of his cold fingers brushing your cheek. An odd and out-of-place warmth started to fill you like all those years ago. It made him startled, too, and eventually he took a step back.

“You must be exhausted,” he only said as he looked away, awkwardly. “We can perform our duties in the morning.”

“Th-thank you,” you nodded. “I’ll go take a shower now…”

Feyd pointed at the doors leading to the bathroom and that was all for that night. When you came back to his bedroom, he was already gone. You went to sleep without him, confused by his behaviour.

Baron Harkonnen watched carefully with his own eyes and through the eyes of his servants. He observed and he listened – nothing could ever escape him. But the new na-baroness was as easy to read as a book. When she joined him and Count Rabban by the breakfast table, she didn’t wince while sitting, which was an obvious sign she had not been claimed by Feyd the previous night. The Baron smirked when the new na-baroness began to eat the meal, keeping her timid gaze down, terrified of her surroundings.

If Feyd-Rautha refused to be her friend, The Baron would surely find her a purpose. She would be an easy tool to keep Feyd in place. A silent, obedient shadow following her husband everywhere. A perfect spy.

“Na-Baroness,” he addressed her and she flinched before looking up, scared. “I would like you to join the council after the meal. Your husband rarely takes part in them since he is too busy training but now you are an extension of him,” The Baron forced a smile and she nodded. “I’ve been told by your father you are well-trained in Harkonnen history and customs.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” she bowed her head.

“I know that Feyd-Rautha is not an easy man to be around,” The Baron continued as Rabban raised his head, curious about his uncle’s scheming plan. “He’s been like this ever since he was a child. I’ve been trying to temper him.”

“I remember,” the young woman whispered.

“You can tell me about anything that is worrying you,” The Baron assured her and she smiled genuinely. “Has he hurt you?” He squinted his eyes, knowing the answer already but wanting to test her honesty.

“No, my Lord. Feyd-Rautha did not spend the night with me at all,” she answered and he nodded as Rabban sneered.

“You have to forgive him, my Lady. He prefers other… forms of entertainment,” The Baron explained softly.

“I believe I have met them, my Baron,” the woman looked down.

“Most likely, yes. They don’t like to share him,” The Baron chuckled.

“But the heir…”

“Do not worry about the heir. You are both still young, you have time. There is no need to hurry anything. Take your time to adjust on Giedi Prime first,” The Baron tried to calm her down and she looked up with so much gratitude in her eyes that he was sure he had succeeded. She was his agent now.

To your own surprise, you found new friends in your husband’s family – his uncle and brother – but not him. Feyd-Rautha was mostly avoiding you and a few attempts to claim you were ending in a fiasco. You couldn’t understand why he would pull away suddenly and leave you without a word or fail to get hard enough no matter how long his touch lingered upon your body. It made you feel as if you were lacking, because you knew for sure he had no problems of this sort with his concubines. They often bragged to you about it. They had offered to help you to excite him and you nearly agreed to that but Feyd hated to see you around them. He snapped whenever he caught you talking to them or them approaching you.

He hated to see you around his uncle and brother, too. He had been warning you about them but it felt cruel to do so. Did he want you to not have any companionship at all? To be sad and lonely and miserable all your days?

You weren’t appreciated in marriage but you were appreciated as a part of this family – representing the na-baronship during the council meetings with your decisions and advice. The Baron seemed to be pleased with you and Count Rabban had stopped to make fun of you over time. Still waters run deep, The Baron would often say about you as your cheeks heated up and eyes sparkled. Perhaps all the years of studying the customs and tradition of this House would not be useful in your marriage but they seemed to be useful when it came to your political presence.

It still bothered you that Feyd-Rautha was acting so weirdly towards you. You remembered the boy he had been eight years earlier. You had never feared this union because you had been sure there was some sort of bond now between you two, some sort of connection. Perhaps you had been wrong.

It was right after one of Feyd’s failed attempts to claim you, when he left you half-naked in bed with tears pricking your eyes. He walked away and most likely went to his concubines as you fixed yourself and left the room, too, not wanting to remain in the chambers filled with the smell of embarrassment and humiliation anymore. You nearly crashed with your brother-in-law walking down the corridor.

“My Lady,” Rabban nodded at you. “Is everything alright?”

“Y-yes,” you answered, trying not to show your nervousness. There was no need for him to know the details about the problems your marriage was facing.

“I was just looking for you,” he confessed and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Tomorrow, my uncle wants me to lead the council meeting only for the most important members of the court. It’s about a matter of a very high importance and it’s confidential,” he whispered. “I hoped you would join me. Without my uncle there, I will be the only one representing our family.”

“But tomorrow Feyd has his fight. I am expected to be in the stands,” you looked up at him.

“Uncle will be there. You are more needed here, (Y/N),” Rabban tried to convince you. You could see his hands were a little shaky – he was stressed about the responsibility placed upon his shoulders by his uncle. “It’s not like Feyd will even notice your absence,” he added.

You bit on your lower lip. He was right.

“Alright, I’ll join you in the council,” you nodded your head. “Our state affairs are much more important than some fixed gladiator fight anyway.”

The servants’ slim fingers were applying the black paint upon Feyd-Rautha’s body as he observed his three harpies from the corner of his eye. They were giggling between each other and some of the words reached his sensitive ears.

“...naive…”

“Silly little thing.”

“...taste her heart…”

“What are you talking about, pets?” Feyd turned around to face them as he asked and they went silent.

“Nothing important, Master,” the bravest of them all answered eventually.

“I have a feeling you’re whispering about my wife,” Feyd pointed out.

“As I said, nothing important,” she chuckled and the rest giggled. Feyd squinted his eyes and approached them with a clenched jaw and an angry expression on his face. When he grabbed her by the chin, they stopped laughing.

“You are forbidden to even think of her,” he hissed out. “You’re not worthy of that.”

“M-Master…” She trembled as she pleaded for his softness. Her companions hid behind her and observed him carefully. “She doesn’t even know how to please you, Master.”

Feyd’s hand dropped down and the squeeze tightened around the woman’s neck. He watched her struggle to catch a breath for some time as he observed with a smirk. Eventually, he let go of her.

“My wife belongs to a different realm than you,” he stated. “She is not to be discussed, looked at, thought of… Am I understood?”

“Y-yes, Master,” they all nodded, obediently.

“Good,” he smiled and went back to the servant girls.

“You might be interested in the gossip, though, na-baron,” one of the concubines whispered. “We are your eyes and ears…”

Feyd pretended not to be intrigued although he was. He didn’t react, hoping she would say more. And so she did.

“Your uncle keeps the young na-baroness close. The rumour has it he wants to make her one of his agents. And she is slowly taking your place during the councils. Count Rabban is his Plan B if you fail. Then she will be given to him.”

“I’m sure Rabban won’t have a problem with fucking her,” the bravest concubine added as if his punishment had not worked at all. Because it didn’t. She loved his punishments. “Her innocence will only make him more eager. He will tear her apart.”

“Shut up!” Feyd growled, making the servant girls take a few steps back as he turned around to face the girl with a big mouth. “Let me remind you that I don’t need your tongue to fuck you,” he sneered. “Your sisters are better at using their tongues than you anyway.”

The woman looked down and he was informed that he was about to enter the arena in five minutes so he went back to putting the gear on, furiously clutching to his blades. He was grateful to his concubine for fueling his anger so much – he wanted to make good use of it in the arena.

But when he approached the tower with his uncle’s balcony to bow down, he spotted that his wife was not there. Suddenly, the fight made no sense to him at all. What was the point of putting on a show, what was the point of killing with grace when she could not watch?

He had been waiting eight years for her to come back. The timid little bunny girl that made him feel so warm inside. That made him feel like home. Nothing had ever made him feel this way. They were destined for each other. Now, when she was by his side, he had no idea what to do. He had been training his body for years to impress her and be able to protect her but nothing was working out the way he had planned. She was slipping away.

She was slipping away because of his uncle’s scheming and because Feyd-Rautha himself had no idea how to approach a creature so pure and innocent as this woman. If anything in this world was still able to save his rotten soul, it was her. But maybe he had been naive to think so. He was beyond saving.

He didn’t give the audience a show on that day. The fights were quick and swift. No playing with his victims, no tormenting. Just a kill after kill to finish it as fast as possible. And no bowing down at the end. He just walked out of the arena, still clutching his fists on the blood-dripping blades. He walked past the guards and servants, not wanting to change or bathe – he wanted one thing only. To find his wife.

The sounds of the cheering audience were becoming more and more quiet. They waited for him to walk back and bow down, raising his knife in the sign of victory. He had no plans in doing so. He would not kneel in front of his uncle. Not when his wife was not beside him, because it was her he had been kneeling for. Not Baron Harkonnen.

The council was over now but you stayed inside the conference room with Count Rabban to discuss what had been decided and what to tell his uncle. You were staring at the maps of Arrakis and wondering whether the Emperor’s assurances of help were trustworthy.

“What I’m saying is… If he is so willing to get rid of The Atreides just because he considers them to be dangerous… He might do the same to us one day. We are a real danger to him way more than any Atreides is,” you pointed out.

“Especially now when we have knowledge that can turn other leaders against him and…” Rabban’s words were interrupted by the heavy black doors opening rapidly. You flinched and instinctively hid behind your brother-in-law’s broad shoulders.

It was Feyd-Rautha himself walking inside with an angry look on his face. Wearing his gladiator gear stained with fresh blood and still wielding two bloody swords. He looked ferocious as his cold eyes searched for you. When he spotted you behind his brother, his jaw clenched and so did his fists on the handles of the blades.

“What is going on here?” He barked as you and Rabban looked at each other, questioningly.

“Husband,” you tried to be brave as you took a step ahead to approach him very carefully. “I see you’re finished now. I assume you’ve won.”

“(Y/N), wait,” Rabban grabbed your sleeve to keep you in place. He didn’t want you near Feyd in such a state. But Feyd didn’t like his brother’s gesture.

“Let her go, brother,” he snapped. “She is my wife and she will approach me if she wishes. I would never lay my hand on her,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

You felt Rabban’s fingers letting go of the fabric of your dress and you walked up to Feyd. Something inside you was telling you that he needed you at that moment. Perhaps that was the intuition of a wife.

“Oh, we all know that you don’t lay your hand on her at all, brother,” Rabban snorted at him.

You watched in terror how your husband’s face became even more angry than before. He yelled and attacked his brother with all the burning wrath he had before been trying to stop from outbursting with.

“No! Stop! Please,” you pleaded as they fought and struggled one against another. Rabban took out his own blade now, too, and they ended up wrestling on the floor like two children. “That is enough, please!” You cried out.

Your tears brought attention to only one of them – your husband. He was distracted by them and ended up with his brother’s blade pointed at his face. You froze and Rabban laughed with contempt.

“Such a great warrior you are, my brother. Trained day and night for years, got your little arena shows… And now you got distracted by a woman,” he pointed out.

“That woman is my wife,” Feyd drawled.

You looked around in panic but the guards stood there petrified. They were afraid to attack any of the brothers. Usually shy and timid, you felt an odd outburst of courage as you took a blade from the guard standing nearby. He did not protest but only watched in terror as you approached the brothers and pointed the blade at Count Rabban himself.

“Don’t be stupid,” he laughed at you.

“Let my husband go,” your voice shivered but you managed to stand your ground.

“Or what?” Rabban sneered. “We both know you won’t strike me.”

In that very moment Feyd kicked him and got out of the direction of his brother’s blade. He ended up on top with his own knife pointed at Rabban. A smirk on his face revealed that he had never been defeated even for a second, he was only toying with his brother… and with you, too.

“She might not but I will,” Feyd hissed at his brother. “My marriage is none of your business, brother. And you stay away from my wife.”

“I am only representing you during the councils,” you tried to explain and Feyd looked up at you with his brow furrowed. “Your uncle told me I should because you rarely take place in them.”

“He’s scheming, can’t you see? Trying to turn us against each other. Thought you were smarter than this,” his anger was directed at you now.

He let go of Rabban and stood up to walk out of the room. You swallowed thickly and lowered your blade, scared of your brother-in-law’s reaction now when you were left alone with him after threatening him.

“Why did you take his side?” He only asked as you gave the blade back to the guard. “He doesn’t treat you any good. He never will.”

“He is my husband,” you explained quietly, avoiding his curious gaze.

“By name only. Your marriage is not even consummated.”

“Feyd was right,” you looked up. “Our marriage is none of your business, brother,” you emphasised who he was to you now before walking out to follow Feyd. It was easy because he left a trail of sand and blood from the arena behind him.

He went to your chambers so you took a deep breath in and pushed the doors open to face him in all his wrath and anger. He was struggling to get out of his gear with shaky hands as he shot you a furious glance over his shoulder.

“Should I call for the servants?” You asked.

“No,” he snapped and you sighed before approaching him and helping him yourself. At first he tried to shake you off but you were stubborn so he gave up and allowed your gentle fingertips to work on the pieces of clothing. “How do you even know how to do that?” He asked. “Did Rabban show you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, dear husband. I’ve read dozens of books about The Harkonnen art of warfare. I know your gears by heart. And Rabban is no gladiator,” you explained.

“Dozens of books about the art of warfare and The Harkonnens and yet it slipped your mind what masters of manipulation we can be?” Feyd barked at you and you chuckled. He didn’t find it amusing as he looked you up and down with contempt so you leaned in and placed a kiss upon his soft lips while your hands cupped his face. He was visibly taken aback by that, he didn’t even close his eyes for the kiss and he continued to observe you as if you would attack him any second.

“I have studied everything like a good pupil I was,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Your hands kept caressing his cheeks in a soothing manner. “And now I’m one of The Baron’s closest people. I’m your inside man, Feyd-Rautha,” you smiled gently and his eyes sparkled at the realisation.

“But… why?” He only asked, confused.

“What do you mean why?” You bit on your lower lip.

“I’ve been treating you… coldly,” he admitted.

“Well, that is another matter. But that is between you and me. The marriage is between a husband and a wife. Not between them and his uncle or brother,” you explained. “I still remember that big fat spider. I’ve known ever since I was twelve years old that the thing you crave the most is to gut your uncle like you did to that monstrosity in the dungeons. And as your wife… I will do everything I can to help you,” you assured him.

But Feyd was not convinced. He pushed you away although he did it way gentler than you’d expect. He walked away from you as he stepped out of the pile of clothes by his feet. He was wearing nothing but underwear now and you watched how his muscular body glistened with sweat after the fight. 

“You can be a double agent, wife. I don’t trust you,” he confessed.

“You have no reasons to,” you nodded. “Except for the fact we have fate and destiny bonding us. Am I the only one feeling this when we touch?” Your voice lowered as uncertainty began to grow inside of you. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you were the only one feeling that warmth indeed.

“No,” Feyd admitted, nearly inaudibly. “Why do you think I can’t fuck you?” He approached you again and you gasped at how close he chose to stand.

“Because you find me unattractive? Or boring perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “I don’t care about that. Our bond is stronger than physical attraction.”

“I can’t fuck you because that feeling is overwhelming me and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like that. You’re too pure for me,” he confessed, visibly uncomfortable with his own words as he looked away.

You were stunned for a moment.

“You’re an idiot, Feyd-Rautha,” you laughed eventually and he blushed. “I am not pure. I am flesh and blood just like you,” you told him. “For example now… When you’re standing in front of me… like this,” you allowed your hand to wander all over his hard muscles. “You’re starting a fire that will be difficult to put out later,” you looked up to meet his gaze. “Every time you start and don’t finish, you leave me in torment,” you confessed. “And nothing helps,” you pouted. “I writhe and I roll around and grow more and more bitter knowing that you’re giving your whores what you’re supposed to give me.”

He was nearly paralyzed in a way he was staring at you. You grabbed his hand and pulled your dress up to press his hand to your womanhood. You were soaking through your underwear now and he blinked a few times as his gaze intensified.

“I will never forgive myself if I break you,” Feyd took his hand away despite your protests.

“You’re breaking me by refusing to touch me,” you whined.

“Touch yourself,” he said suddenly as his eyes sparkled and you were left speechless. “Touch yourself for me. I will help you. I’ll make it feel good,” he proposed.

Out of desperation, you decided this was better than nothing – at least for now – so you agreed. As fast as possible, you got rid of your dress and remained in nothing but your sheer underdress. You laid on the bed and watched him approach you. Feyd laid next to you, observing you carefully. His eyes were admiring every curve of your body and every inch of your skin. Without waiting for his command, you pulled the underdress up and took off your underwear to toss the panties aside and start playing with your wet folds. It was embarrassing to see him watch but it also excited you in some twisted way. You toyed with your clit, moaning softly, showing him what kind of pleasure you could bring to yourself – what kind of pleasure you had to bring to yourself since he refused to do so.

“Easy, slow down,” Feyd breathed out and placed his rough hand on your waist. He was caressing you and joined your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His free hand undid the ribbon on the top of your underdress to free your breasts. They shivered under the touch of his big hand as he played with your nipples and buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

You shut your eyes close, trying to focus on the pleasure as your fingers rubbed on your sensitive swollen clit but it was not enough. It never was.

“I can’t…” You admitted your defeat as you tried to catch a breath.

“Yes, you can,” Feyd whispered into your ear in that low, raspy voice of his that sent shivers down your body and straight to your core. “What’s stopping you?”

“It’s just… I don’t know…” You didn’t know how to find the right words. “It’s not enough,” you admitted. “It’s not you.”

“Let me, then,” he raised himself to look into your eyes as his hand moved your hand away and his fingers replaced yours on your exposed clit. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips drawing circles and teasing your entrance. 

You pressed your hands to his chest and then you moved them lower to explore the hard muscles of his abs. To feel them underneath your fingers was enough to make your back arch needily, exposing even more of your hungry pussy. Feyd smirked at that and buried his fingers deep inside as you gasped out of pain but it was quickly replaced with pleasure.

His free hand grabbed your chin gently and when you looked up, batting your eyelashes and opening your lips slightly, he put his fingers inside of your mouth and you grabbed his wrist to hold on to it as you sucked and moaned. His other hand was bringing you close to your release as his movements were fast and rough and his thumb circled your clit.

You cried out but his fingers muffled it so you ended up choking on the sound escaping your lips as you came writhing under him with sweaty forehead and single hair strands sticking to your face, your whole body set on fire, trying to catch a breath. Feyd swallowed thickly as his eyes sparkled.

You yelped as he smacked your sensitive pussy right after pulling his fingers out of it and licking them clean, looking deep into your eyes. You were speechless as your mind was left thoughtless.

You could only watch him lower himself and open your thighs even further with his strong arms as he buried his face between your legs to lap on your juices. You were sensitive so it burned in the beginning but the uncomfortable feeling submerged into pleasure once again. Feyd’s tongue was cleaning your folds thoroughly and penetrating you while you threw your head back as you laid your hands on the back of his neck, keeping him close. But this time he didn’t let you cum so easily.

When you were about to reach the peak again, he moved his head away and the next thing you saw was his face right in front of yours, his chin dripping with your wetness and his cold eyes filled with so much fire that you felt like a prey trapped by a big predator.

But you loved that feeling. You loved to feel small and tiny under him, trapped, vulnerable. You dug your nails into his biceps and looked down. He had already tossed his underwear aside and his cock was hard now, swollen and aching for you, you could see it twitching and leaking black precum. He looked heavy and big and you wanted him badly to claim you and violate you to the point no other man would ever even think of touching you after him.

You had never made him that hard. You had never gone so far before. You were sure you’d succeed now.

“Take me, claim me, make me yours,” you pleaded. “Please, I want more of you.”

Feyd shut you up with a kiss and a strong, stinging pain of his hard cock finally penetrating you. Your eyes widened as you whined. He intertwined your fingers together and held you through the process of adjustment to his size. You were the first one to impatiently rock your hips to show him you wanted him to move. So he did, slowly and carefully. He winced from his attempts to keep himself in control and you let go of his hands to pull him closer by his shoulders and deepen the kiss.

You moaned softly and helped him to fuck you by you rocking your hips against him as your legs wrapped around his waist. You both had been waiting so long for this moment of unity that it didn’t take long for you two to reach your highs and the familiar feeling of warmth filled you whole. You didn’t remember your own name, the only thing you knew was that you were home and the man above you was destined for you; you were born to be his wife and he was born to be your husband. The thousands of years of manipulation of the bloodlines had led you to this moment and nothing could tear you apart now. No amount of rumours, scheming or the disability to show emotions.

You were catching your breath as Feyd was slowly coming back from his high above you, panting heavily and looking at your face with hazy eyes.

“You belong to me,” he leaned in to kiss your lips again. “You always have.”

“No matter what happens, we are one,” you agreed with a nod and intertwined your fingers with him as you held his hand. “Now, when that is settled, we shall focus on our most important task.”

“And that is?”

“Killing the fat spider in his nest,” you answered.

“Thankfully, we have experience,” Feyd teased before placing yet another soft kiss upon your parted lips.

MASTERLIST

[mt-nynj-queer]

Malvatrem

[mkscatgirl]

I've never had a crush that made me want to punch a wall to counter my feelings before

[bigification]

Step Daddy

"You really need to get over your stepdad man." My friend tells me, concerned.

"Look, I'll try this one last thing and if it doesn't work then I'll give it up." I respond. "Did you bring the sunglasses?"

"Yes, but just remember he's like 25 years older than you. He's probably not going to be into you, even after this." He says as he hands me a pair of old pilot shades.

I told him I could let it go, but I can't. I'm just putting all my eggs into this basket, the sunglasses. Apparently they're supposed to transform someone who wears them mentally and physically to match my type. He already is my type, but I guess I wouldn't mind him bulking up a bit and growing some hair. It would be sexy if he got more charming, but he's already charming as it is. I guess there's only one way to find out.

I wait on the living room couch watching tv. He always gets home from work at the same time, so I know he'll be here any minute. I sit and stare at my reflection in the glasses. Am I really ready to change this man's life so drastically. My friend said no one else would take notice of the change, so it'll be like nothing happened. As I'm thinking over it, I hear the roar of his engine from the driveway. I try to calm down, but I can feel my body vibrate from the nerves. The door flies open.

"Hey buddy, hows it goin?" He asks me with his hot southern accent.

"Not bad. By the way, I found these sunglasses lying around, and assumed they were yours." I try to play it cool as I lie to his face.

"Oh, thanks. But these aren't mine." He responds.

"Well you might as well keep em, they don't fit me anyway." I try to convince him to take them without seeming too pushy.

"Well alright, thanks kid." He swipes the glasses and throws them on.

That was easier than I thought. As soon as he put them on, he stopped moving. His jaw slacked as if there was not a thought running through his mind. It started slow, his button up started to look a little bit tighter. His once flat chest started to push against his shirt and the shape of a belly started to show. Then it started to speed up. His chest started to pulse, growing in size with each one. They grew until the button on his collar popped off, then another button popped, then another and another. His juicy pecs flopped down after being released from his shirt. His stomach was next. His midsection widened and his stomach grew into a respectable beer belly, straining against his shirt. It wasn't long before more buttons began to pop, until his shirt was completely open. His arms also looked like they doubled in size, filling out his sleeves with thick muscles.

Next his legs start to look like they're gonna burst out of his dress pants. I can hear the rips ripple through his pants as his thighs grow inside of them. His ass fills out all the space in his pants and proceeds to rip open his fly and snap his belt in half. I can tell his underwear is barely staying in one piece as a large bulge formed in between his legs.

Finally his face begins to change. His once skinny face fills out with fat, giving him a rounder look. I can see that hair is falling out of his hat until he is left completely bald under there. Though in return his clean shaven face grows a bushy beard. But the hair doesn't stop there. It continues down his chest and to his belly, and presumably the rest of his body. He finally regains control of his body. He sighs as he stretched out his arms and cracks his knuckles before looking right at me.

"Come here, son." He says in a deep buttery voice.

A shock travels through my spine as I think he might know what I've done to him.

"What'd I say boy!" He raises his voice.

I jump a bit before I walk closer to him. I realize how imposing he is up close. He must have gotten taller because he seems well over six feet tall now, and at least 250 pounds.

"Daddy had a stressful day, why don't you help him release some tension." He says as he pushes me to my knees.

I blush, this is everything I wanted from this, it just happened so much faster than I thought.

"Don't be shy, boy. This will be our little secret." He says as he pulls his underwear down.

[luveline]

could i request teacher!reader with hotch? like maybe she’s jacks teacher

thank you for your request! fem!reader, 1.2k

You're a teacher: you're always tired. Overworked, underpaid, everybody knows how it goes. And maybe you've let yourself go because you don't have any real material hopes for the future beyond getting Macy Danish to read at a first grade level, but how were you supposed to know that Jack Hotchner's father would be so overwhelmingly attractive? It's not fair. 

He's handsome though older than you'd been expecting, but that isn't the cut and dry of it. When he comes in, it's alone, in a well-fitted suit. He's tall and remarkably dark-eyed, shaking your hand without trying to impose any authority, as some of the fathers tend to do, and when you call him Mr. Hotchner, he says, "Aaron, please," but continues to call you Ms. L/N.

"Aaron," you say, pulling your skirt under your thighs as you sit down. You're dressed in nice clothes for the parent-teacher conferences, but you could've covered your sleeplessness better. "Jack is the nicest boy in class. He's actually my loveliest kid. Um…" You search through your notes for the preliminary assessment of Jack. "Sorry, two seconds." 

"Take your time. I know what it's like to dig through a mountain of paperwork every day." 

"Jack mentioned you work in the government, he calls you a special agent," you say, smiling. "You get the bad guys." 

"I am a special agent. Supervisory." Aaron is conscientious enough to pretend he doesn't notice your surprise. "I'm chief of the behavioural analysis unit." 

You can't even begin to guess what that entails. "Oh," you say breathlessly. 

"I understand that it sounds fantastical." 

"It sounds impressive," you say, floundering to correct yourself. Behavioural analysis? It must be obvious to him how nervous he's making you, then, and when you realise that, you get worse. "I'm so sorry about this. I should be more organised. I usually am." 

"That's alright. Take your time." 

Does he always speak that way? His voice is like fucking silk? Is he messing with you?

You yank the notes you made for Jack from the pile and flatten them across the desk. "Okay, sorry. Like I was saying, Jack is really the nicest kid, him and his friend Molly. They're both lovely, and teachers shouldn't have favourites, please don't tell the other parents, but they're my favourites." You smile at him quickly and return your eyes to the paper. The words swim in front of your eyes. "Jack can read better than you could ever hope for a first grader, he's immensely intelligent for his age group. He's patient. He'll explain anything to anyone if they ask him too, and he does it well." 

"I'm glad to hear that," he says, again so softly. 

You pick up one of your skinny biros to have something to fidget with. He's a very good looking man, but you're a good teacher. You can focus on what to say. Some parents need good things only. Some need reassurement that they're doing a good job. Aaron is harder to read, but you know what he needs, too. 

"He can be lonely," you say, looking him in the eye. "I don't think that that's down to any fault. I'm sure you know better than I do why he might feel that way." You know about his mom's passing over a year ago. You've seen grief in children too many times. "He… I understand if this isn't okay with you, but he eats lunch with me sometimes. I encourage him to sit with his peers, of course, but I think he runs out of energy pretty quickly." 

Aaron nods thoughtfully. His brows quirk into a furrow that you're afraid is directed at you. 

"I don't think he necessarily has trouble connecting with his friends." 

"What do you think?" 

"I think something awful happened to your family, and Jack will feel it for the rest of his life, but that it won't stop him from being great. It already isn't. And… he clearly has a father who loves him and who he admires. You're his second favourite topic." 

"What's his first?" he asks. 

"He's really into Fruity Fridays," you say with a laugh. "I bring in fruits you don't get often in America. Someone would've had to sign a form." 

"No, I remember signing it. He likes that?" His smile is golden. "I can't get him to try new things." 

"He had all the leftover gold kiwi last week." You rub your lips together. Time is ticking. You have nearly thirty parents to see tonight, but talking to Mr. Hotchner has been so normal. He's a regular person in a sea of inattentive helicopter narcissists. It's a relief and a half to meet him and know a kid as gentle as Jack is in good hands. "Mr. Hotchner, I have to tell you, I'm really relieved to meet you." 

"Aaron," he corrects.

Your tone drops too low. "Aaron." 

"I'm more than relieved," he says. "I knew that this year would be harder for him. I didn't know… I'm grateful to you, for being so kind with him." 

You look down at your notes, flushed from head to toe despite your airy skirt. Crossing your legs, you shake your head. "It's my job." 

"To let him take up the only break you get all day?" he asks. 

"It's not like that. Jack doesn't bother me." You fold your notes in half. "I can see his role model measures up." 

"I could say the same thing." 

The next time you see Jack, bright and early Monday mooring shepherded by his aunt Jessica, he's very happy to see you. You offer him a hug and pat his back when he wraps his arms around your hips. "Hello, Jack. Was your dad pleased with your drawings?"

Jack smiles at you. "I have a note for you." 

"You do? Can I see? Where is it, honey?" 

Jack takes off his backpack and pulls out the note and a tupperware container. "Oh, wow, did you make treats for the class? Jack, that's so nice!" 

"No. Dad said those are for you. He said you should have nice for nice, or something," Jack informs you. 

"You'll share with me, though? I can't eat them all by myself," you whisper. 

He nods with enthusiasm and runs off to put his backpack in his cubby and his coat on the hook. You look down at the cookies and note, which is actually an envelope. 

You open it with your thumbnail. The writing is Aaron's usual tight cursive.

Dear Miss L/N, 

I hoped to thank you again in person, but work makes that hard. I appreciate everything you do for Jack. There are teachers who work, and there are teachers who go above and beyond. I can feel confident anywhere in the country knowing Jack is being taught by the latter. 

Gratefully yours, 

Aaron Hotchner. 

P.S. Please don't feed Jack too many cookies. They're not for him. 

You keep the letter even if it's lame to do so. When is the next parent teacher conference, anyways?

[xrollingmyeyesx]

Innocence Part 1

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Metkayina Reader. Reader is 19, Neteyam is 23.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Olo’eyktan Tonowari you live a very sheltered life. When the Sullys arrive on Awa’atlu a certain son guides you to escape the bounds you’ve been kept in. But is everything as it seems? 

Warnings: mature themes, suggestive language, heavy petting but doesn't go all the way, thigh riding???

word count: 6,993

Notes: This started out as fluff but...Stuff happened. Also, this is the first time I've ever tried writing, so pls point out any errors I need to fix. This might be too long? I didn't know how much was too much. Might write a part 2.

Part Two

As the youngest daughter of Olo’eyktan Tonowari, you have always been sheltered.  

At first because you were the youngest, but then your partners began to notice how sensitive and vulnerable you were. You didn’t seem to have the same aggressiveness that most Metkayina were born with; You were soft where they were hard. 

Your passiveness and trusting nature often got you hurt, sometimes physically and emotionally. You trusted other kids who would trick you into doing dangerous activities with the promise of being your friend. As you aged, other teens would befriend you to get to your more popular siblings, and your parents worried others would take advantage of you to gain favor with the chief. 

So they protected you. 

They did as much as they could to shelter you from the world, keeping you under close watch in the village. You were constantly watched and forced to have a chaperone, usually one of your siblings. As such, you were forced to spend most of your time with your family. They didn't let you leave the village unless it was to visit the Cove of the Ancestors or for clan ceremonies. You didn't go out and make friends, and you definitely weren't going on any dates. Your father and brother had all but banned any suitors from coming anywhere near you. 

You thought you would be free after your iknimaya, after finally proving yourself as an adult. You were a woman now and you had hoped your parents would loosen their hold on you. Of course, Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal did not agree. 

Overtime, sheltered away from the rest of the clan, you became lonely, You yearned for freedom from your caring but overbearing family. 

You were lying on the beach daydreaming when the Sully family arrived.

The sound of the conch horn boomed across the island of Awa’atlu. You followed your sister, Tsireya, to the northern beach. The two of you took your place beside your family, your mother and father at the head. A small crowd had gathered. 

“Uturu has been asked.” 

The voice came from an Omatikayan woman holding the hand of a small girl. There were six of them, a family with four children. 

They looked very different from you, and you eyed them curiously. They were darker than you, their skin a deep blue that resembled the night sky. Their tails were skinny with tufts of hair at the ends, and their eyes were a startling gold. 

As usual, you became distracted easily, taking in every little detail about the foreigners in front of you. Your fathers voice faded into the background. It was hard to focus on him with the strange, piercing eyes of the oldest son focused directly on you. 

He looked to be the oldest of the siblings, and he held himself with a strong air of confidence. He was tall, taller than his father even, and strong, with broad shoulders that narrowed into a muscled chest and a slim waist. He was lithe like one of your clans dancers, but had the confidence of a trained warrior. He had long hair braided back and a riding mask sat on his forehead. 

He looked straight at you, as if he felt the same pull that had you wanting to reach out and touch him. It would be completely inappropriate to do that, but your fingers twitched at the urge. 

The Omatikayan boy smiled at you, dipping his head forward slightly in acknowledgement. Your skin flushed. 

Your brother, Aonung, huffed under his breath and stepped in front of you, blocking the other man's view. 

He was such an ass sometimes, and way too protective. What could the other man possibly do to hurt you here, in the middle of your family and surrounded by your clan?

You pinched Aonung in the side, and he hissed at you sharply, smacking your hand away before he turned back to your father.

“My children, Aonung and Tsireya, will teach your children the way.” Your father announced. He then addressed the clan with an air of finality. “You will treat Toruk Makto and his family as your brothers and sisters. Teach them the way, so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

The man, Jake Sully, thanked your father before Tsireya ushered them away to their new home. You watched, enamored, as the son packed up his stuff and followed after his family, shooting you a quick glance over his shoulder. 

“Y/n.”

You turned to your dad, hope bubbling inside you. “Dad? Do I get to help teach too?”

Tonowari gave you a hard but wary look. “No, these people are strangers and I do not trust them yet. I do not want you anywhere near those boys Y/n. Go home, I’m sure your mother could use your help.”

And just like that, your hope was crushed.

You rolled your eyes as you turned your back on him, your ears pinned back in irritation. You loved your dad, but sometimes he spoke to you like you were a soldier, like you were meant to do exactly as he said and never disobey. But that's exactly what you did, wasn't it? He and your mother told you what to do with your life, and you followed because it was what you had been doing for 21 years. You were so tired of everyone trying to “protect you” and telling you what to do. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. But your dad would hear none of it.

“Yes, father.” You stomped home, pouting like the child they accused you of being.  

You didn’t see the Sully kids again for a while. 

They were busy with training and you were doing your best to obey your father and stay away. You avoided them at all costs and tried to ignore their presence, but the strange family had piqued your curiosity. You found yourself watching them from afar, especially the eldest son, Neteyam. 

Tsireya would come home at the end of the day and tell you stories about her training with them. She tended to talk more about Lo’ak, but you devoured every bit of information you could get about his brother.

She told you that Neteyam was a warrior and a good hunter. She said he was protective of his sisters, and had an adorable relationship with the youngest, Tuktirey.

From the stories she told you, he sounded like a good person. A noble, caring man. It made no sense to you why your father was so adamant that you stay away from him.

A few weeks later, you sit on the beach with your mother as she discusses your healing lessons. You weave ropes of netting absentmindedly, humming under your breath and paying her little attention. You are the youngest in your family, the least likely to have any kind of leadership role, but still she insists on teaching you everything a Tsahik would need to know. 

“Tsahik.” A harried voice calls from further down the beach. A man runs towards the pair of you, his chest heaving with effort. “Atexo has been injured in the hunt.” 

Your mother straightens, eyeing the blood smeared on the man's shoulder. “Badly?”

He nods his head vigorously. “Very badly. He got caught in a swarm of hakora.”

Your mother sighs, glancing at you contemplatively. You are supposed to stay with her today, but you know she is hesitant to involve you when there are severe wounds. She thinks you are too delicate to handle such a violent scene. 

She gives you a hard stare. “You will stay here, ma’ite. I will be back quickly.”

Surprise blossoms in your chest, and you do your best to keep it from showing on your face. She may not want you to see severe wounds or injuries, but she likes leaving you unchaperoned even less. But you won’t question her choice, not when it's the first bit of freedom you’ve had in a long time. 

“I will be here.” You smile softly at your mother, and her eyes soften. Brushing sand off her legs, she follows the man towards the healing tents. 

You’re not sure how long she’ll be gone, so you give up on weaving and sunbathe instead. You lay outstretched, your hands buried in the sand at your side. It’s warm, and you wiggling your fingers as you bask in the soft rays of the sun. 

You sing to yourself as well, the soft melody of an old lullaby falling easily from your mouth. You’re about halfway through the song when a sense of awareness washes over you, your skin prickling in the warm sun. Your mother has returned much quicker than you anticipated. 

“You sound amazing.” A deep, baritone voice says softly. 

That is definitely not your mother. 

You sit up quickly, fumbling as you attempt to turn and back away from the strange voice all in one go. You are in full defensive mode, reaching for the knife at your side, but relax when you see Neteyam. 

He stands a few feet away, keen eyes taking you in. It’s in that moment that you realize that, for the first time in your life, you are alone with a man who is not family. You have no chaperone. 

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people.” Your voice is soft, and he tilts his head as if he can’t hear you. 

Neteyam had seen you that first day on Awa’atlu and instantly thought you were beautiful. Your hair was long, almost to your waist, and curly, so different from his own. He had liked the way your eyes wandered over him. More than that, he liked the pretty blush that decorated your cheeks when he caught you. He had no intention of pursuing you when your father had so clearly declared you as off limits, but goading from his brother and a few other guys had encouraged him to seek you out.  

After that first day, Neteyam had watched you as discreetly as he could. You never seemed to be alone, always with your mom or dad or a trusted healer. He was curious about the hidden Metkayina princess. It only piqued his curiosity more when he realized you had been watching him too. He had felt eyes on him more than once, and each time he would see you quickly dart out of sight. 

“Y/n, right?” He steps closer to you, and you instinctively take a step back. “Please, sit. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Well. You glance back towards the healing tents, but there's no sign that your mother will be returning any soon. You sigh and sit back down in the warm sand. Neteyam follows, though he sits much closer than he needs to.

You fiddle with a shell in the sand, not quite knowing what to say. You feel nervous this close to him. You feel his eyes on you, those big yellow orbs watching you. The silence is incredibly awkward, and you have no idea what to say to him. He’s practically a stranger, and you don’t really hang around anyone but your family and their trusted friends. 

“I am Neteyam.” He offers, giving you a small smile. 

You turn your head to face him, and again are startled by those eyes. So strange, but kind of… nice? “I know.”

Neteyam grins, his sharp teeth bared at you like he thinks you said something funny. “I never see you around, and you don’t train with your brother and sister.”

He phrases it as a statement, but really he wants to know why you avoid his family. The pretty girl, who he’s been watching for the last 2 weeks, refuses to even acknowledge the Sullys. You even go as far as avoiding them at meal time. 

“My parents want me to stay away from you,” You mumble. “My father thinks you will get me into trouble.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, and the surprised look on his face makes you wonder if you were supposed to say that or if it was some kind of secret.

“Get you in trouble? Why would I do that?” Neteyam tilts his head. 

“Well, I'm not sure actually, but Aonung and Tsireya say you will ‘corrupt me.’” You don’t know what the phrase means, but it sounded bad. Aonung had drilled into your head that the Sully boys were nothing but trouble and would only put you in danger. He said they were violent and had become too used to war. 

The laugh that spills out of Neteyam’s mouth startles you, and you peer at him, your face scrunched up. So far he doesn’t seem so bad, but he is very confusing. 

Ah so this is what it’s about, Neteyam thinks to himself. You look at him with those big, innocent eyes, clearly not understanding the lewd undertones of the statement. He had originally thought you were shy, but from talking to you it seems as if you’re just very sheltered. 

He leans into your space, his woodsy scent invading your senses. You inhale sharply, and let the scent settle in your lungs. You should back away, shouldn’t be so close to an unfamiliar man, but you can’t. He smells good, really good, and your heart beats frantically in your chest. 

“And how will I corrupt you, Y/n?” His mouth quirks up, almost as if he knows something you don’t. Why was it that everyone seems to know more than you? He’s joking, clearly, but you have no idea what about. It always seems like you're one-step behind everyone else.

It’s hard to think with his eyes on you, and you can’t help the blush that spreads across your face. “I- I’m not sure.”

You go back to avoiding his eyes, fidgeting with your hands. You can feel the warmth from where his leg is almost touching yours, and fight the sudden urge to press your skin against his. Despite your shyness, he continues. 

“I should tell you, I really came over here to see if you wanted to hangout? You seem lonely and I would love the company.” He taps your leg to get your attention, his hand warm against your skin. “Do you want to come with me? We could go out to one of the islands.” 

You immediately want to say no, to tell him that you’re not allowed to leave the island without one of your family members, but a new thought crosses your mind. 

Neteyam doesn’t know your parents' rules. He doesn’t know you aren't supposed to leave the village. You’ve always wanted to be able to explore on your own, and even more you want to keep talking to the handsome guy next to you. 

Going with him is the perfect opportunity to get away, even if you might get into trouble later. You may never get this chance again, not with how strict your parents are, so you nod in agreement.

“Yes, please. I would like that.” Your heart races at the prospect of leaving, but it’s dampened a bit by guilt.

You know that lying and tricking him is wrong but your desire to get away is stronger. You’d always wanted to escape from your overbearing family but you’d be lying if you said that was the only reason you wanted to go.

Neteyam… everything about him calls to you. His smell, his smile. Maybe he was just charming and was always this kind to strangers, but something made you want to latch onto him and never let go. It helps that he seems pleased that you agreed to go. 

Neteyam, always the gentleman, offers you his hand. “Come on.”

You hesitate for a second but then slide your hand into his much bigger hand. You expect him to let go after you’re standing, but he keeps hold of your hand as you walk towards the waiting ilu.

BREAK

You know how to ride an ilu, of course. Every Metkayina child learns to ride, but Neteyam still insists you sit in front of him “just in case.” You remember what your sister said about how he’s protective of his siblings. He’s protective in nature, so it makes sense for him to be protective of you too. 

And Neteyam really does want to keep you safe, but he definitely has ulterior motives. Ever since he saw you laid out in the sun, he couldn’t get the images of you out of his head. You had looked ethereal then, splayed out in the sun like a tempting meal. You were curvy in all the right places. Muscular like all the Metkayina, but smaller than most too. 

As the two of you glide through the water, Neteyam’s focus begins to shift from steering the ilu. He tries to pay attention but he’s hyper aware of all the places where your skin is touching his, particularly where his hand rests on the curve of your waist. 

You’re so much smaller than him, and his one hand wraps nearly halfway around your waist. His mind wanders to other ways in which your size difference might matter, much more tempting ways, but quickly shakes his head to get rid of the totally inappropriate thoughts.

“Have you been out here before?” You turn your head to look back at him but freeze when you realize just how close he is.

He’s only inches away, his breath warm against your face and suddenly you can’t breathe. You don’t know what you’re waiting for, for him to say something maybe, but his eyes aren’t on yours anymore. Strangely, he’s focused on your lips. 

His eyes darted between your mouth and your eyes, and your brow furrows in confusion. Neteyam was acting very strange. 

When he finally breaks the tense silence, his voice is but a whisper. “Y/n? Have you been courted by anyone yet?”

You reel back in surprise. You have no idea what you expected him to say, but that was not it. “Um…No. My parents haven’t approved of anyone, and they say that I’m still too young anyways.” 

You know courting is when two people wish to be mated, but you’re not entirely sure of all the details. Every time you ask your mom she brushes it off and says you don’t need to know yet. It’s frustrating, being so ignorant of such natural things, but you trust your mom would tell you if it’s really necessary. 

His forehead scrunches, his eyes squinted in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense, Y/n. How old are you?”

“I’m 19 seasons, why?”

He purses his lips. “I was just wondering.”

Neteyam’s thoughts are confirmed. You're 19 years old, a mature adult, and yet your parents have convinced you that you’re not at the age to be courted. He’d known you were sheltered when you didn’t understand the innuendo he made earlier, but he hadn’t realized how far your innocence went.

While he doesn’t think your parent’s should keep you in the dark, a part of him is pleased to know that you're untouched. Never been kissed. And now he has the chance to be your first.

The rest of the ride is spent in comfortable silence. You enjoy it more than you probably should but the feel of him behind you is nice. His warmth sinking into your skin is comforting in the best way. When you finally get to the island, you slide off the back of the ilu and let him lead you to shore. 

“Tsireya showed us this place a few days after we got here. She said it was the best place to watch the sunset,” He informs you.

The island is familiar, but so different at the same time. It has a similar landscape, but there are some plants and animals that you don’t normally see on the mainland. The brush here is much more vibrant and the air feels less tamed. 

“It’s amazing,” You gasp, taking in the view, a little in awe. 

A shadow passes overhead and you tilt your face up to gaze at the swarm of fkio. The pack of bright purple birds squawk at you, their four wings fluttering gracefully. One of the younger ones swoops low to circle over your head, and you lift your hand up towards the creature, laughing. It dances over your head a couple more times before flying up to meet its mother. 

You spin around to watch it fly away, only to find Neteyam staring at you with a small smile. You instantly feel self-conscious under his eyes and your laughter dies down. 

“What are you staring at Neteyam?”

“I’m just enjoying the view, Y/n.” 

You blush at the flirtatious lilt of his words. You turn your back to him as you walk, hiding from his gaze, but he catches up quickly. “Yes, it is nice out here.” He falls into step next to you. “Much quieter than in the village.”

He glances down at you as you reach out to brush the petals of a flower. “I’d be happy to bring you out here again.”

You immediately feel bad again for not telling him that he’d probably get in trouble for being here. You try to mask the guilt as you shoot him an appreciative look. “I would love that.”

The two of you continue to walk around the island, venturing between the warm sand and the canopy of mangrove trees. He challenges you to a race and the two of you chase fan lizards as they spin in the air. After losing two rounds of that game, you dare him to race you in the water. Of course, you are much more used to the water and beat him several times. Hours pass but neither of you notice the passing time as you explore together. 

He tells you stories of his little brother, Lo’ak, who constantly gets him in trouble. He talks about his sisters too, his voice full of adoration. He even tells you that he considers Tuk to be one of his best friends. 

In return, you tell him about your family. How you're the youngest and how you’ve always looked up to Tsireya and Anoung. You tell him how you were always closest to your sister and that she does your most days. You even tell him about your iknimaya and how you were terrified of the skimwig on your first try and immediately fell off. You love hearing his laugh as you recount the scary tale. 

“Don't laugh at me! Those things are huge.” He only laughs harder, boasting how it was so easy for him.

“I conquered the skimwig on my first try!” 

You shove at his shoulder as he teases you, and he splashes water at you in return.

Then you tell him about your spirit sister, Rayol, and your adventures with her. He seems to like the story about your first meeting and how Rayol saved you from a hungry akula fish. 

You sit him down to show him your iknimaya gifts, proudly showing off your tattoo. Soft waves brush your legs as you sit in the shallow water. 

“This is my marking.” 

You stretch your leg out in front of you as you point to the black ink adorning the side of your thigh. The black curls over from the back of your thigh to the front in an elaborate design. 

When he first reaches his hand out to trace the lines, you pull away. But you decide that, since you've spent hours together getting comfortable in each other's presence, letting him touch your marks can’t possibly cause any harm.

His fingers brush over the lines softly, a light caress on your skin. Your eyes close as you relax into the feeling. He traces the line that dips into your inner thigh, your skin heating under his touch, and your breaths come out a little harder. You try to keep still but a strange feeling settles low in your stomach. 

Neteyam watches your face, far more interested in your reaction than the actual art. He takes in the way you start to breathe harder and how your hands clench in the sand. You’re so sensitive to his touch. Just a few soft caresses, not even anywhere indecent, and you’re practically putty in his hands.

You open your eyes at the loss of heat from his hand,  the ghost of his touch fading. The day had been so fun, so carefree, up until this point. Tension builds between you and Neteyam, and you wonder how he must see you. 

He must think you're weird, reacting to his touch like that. You’ve never spent time around any unmated guys in the clan, let alone spent time with them alone. The strange urge to curl into Neteyam’s side and inhale his comforting sweet was all new to you. All strange, but exhilarating too. 

You breathe out softly, your skin flushing as he watches you.  “I also got my clothing piece. For my iknimaya, I mean.” 

You cross your legs, hoping to appease the warmth that’s been growing steadily in your belly. Odd. 

He leans back on his hands, his lithe body splayed out in the shallow area where you’re resting. He nods, gesturing for you to continue, and doesn’t take his eyes off you for a single second. You have his undivided attention. 

“My mom and sister made it,” You point to the small white beads that hang below your chest. “They sewed pearls into the strands so that it would sparkle. I like the color of the cords most, the oranges and brown remind me of sunset.” 

You point out each piece to him, explaining the significance of the type of pearl and the painted beads. You get so involved in telling him all the little stories that go with each other, you don’t even notice him moving closer. Much closer. You nearly headbutt him when you finally look up from your chest piece. 

He’s so close you can see the small white freckles painted across his cheeks

Much like earlier, your breath catches in your throat. His eyes are hooded and narrowed on you, as if stalking his prey. You wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t. His eyes roam your body, drinking you in. You aren’t sure what caught his attention or caused him to react like this. Maybe he was just really interested in your clothing?

“Neteyam?” You ask, barely above a whisper. 

He reaches out to you, his nimble fingers brushing against the beads that hang off your chest piece. His hand grazes the skin there and you shiver against the feel of a calloused hand. 

His eyes flit up to yours, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. He slides his hand up one of the braided cords of your top, just barely ghosting a touch over the peak of your breast as he goes. 

You inhale sharply, frozen. The Navi were not modest people, not in the slightest, but it was one thing to be looked at and another to be touched. And no one had ever touched you in this way. 

In his head, Neteyam wages war with himself.  If this small touch could affect you so much, he couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d react to more. He wants to touch you more and in so many different ways. He wants to taste you, to feel you against his tongue. He wants to know if you’ll taste as good as you smell. He wants to hear your moans, to hear his name on your lips. He wants so much. 

But he has to wait. Has to go slow.

You're innocent, in the most tempting of ways. So sweet, and so trusting of a man you’ve only known for a few weeks, and only spoken to once. He’s got to take his time with you. He’s got to teach you because it’s clear you have no idea what a courtship or a mating entails, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

And to add on to all of that, you are his new Olo’eyktan’s precious, guarded daughter. 

He really should stay away. 

But the more he thinks about it, the more your innocence makes him want you more. You respond so nicely to his advances, and he’s seen you lean in to scent him more than once today. He’s also noticed the way you shift in your spot when he touches you. It kills him to know that your body wants him back, but you have no idea what any of it means. 

“Neteyam?” You ask again, leaning over to tap his arm. The movement pushes your breasts up and out, and you pull back in embarrassment when his eyes dip lower. 

“It's a pretty piece,” His voice is rough, scratchier than before. “For a pretty girl.”

A warm flush spreads from your cheeks, and warmth floods your body again, an ache blossoming under your skin. The way he looked at you was doing strange things to you, making you buzz with anticipation. 

“Irayo, Neteyam.” You slide your hand into his. He engulfs yours entirely, his palm slightly rough but his grip gentle. “And thank you for bringing me out here. I don't get to leave the village very often.” Or ever.

Nausea curls in your stomach. Lying is wrong. Very wrong.

Little did you know, Neteyam was very aware of what he was getting into. When Lo’ak had goaded him into talking to you as some kind of joke, he had no idea he would become so infatuated.  

“Anytime, Y/n.” His finger gently caresses your hand. “I actually picked this spot because your sister said it was a good place to see the stars.”

You stiffen. “You talked to my sister?”

Of course he had, she was training him. A voice in the back of your head warned you he might just be using you to get to her. It’s not a stretch. She’s the tskarem, the future Tsahik, and others have tried to use you to get to her before.

“No, but she told Lo’ak and he told me.”

“Oh.” Right. His brother told him. No need to be jealous of your sister. 

He chuckles, and you look away in embarrassment. How stupid of you to be jealous over a guy you just met. 

A warm palm snakes around the back of your head, and Neteyam turns your face toward him. Once again, you take notice of how much taller he is than you. You barely come to his shoulder, having to turn your head up to face him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He coos as the heat of his palm seeps into your skin. His hand is big enough that his thumb brushes over the junction of your chin and neck, and the skin there prickles. 

“Nothing.” You blurt. You breathe in softly. “Just happy to be here with you.”

He grins, those sharpened fangs glinting in the darkened night. “Come on.”

He drags you towards the beach again and pulls you to lay with him in the sand. Then, Neteyam points to the stars and names them for you, telling stories about his father and how he came from the bright orb in the sky. It’s so strange to you, so alien, that there’s a whole world out there that you’ve never known.

You stay like that for a while, laying nesting to each other. The sand is cooler now that the sun has set, and a cool breeze grazes your skin. The wind picks up, ruffling the leaves of nearby brush, and you wrap your arms around your torso to fend off the cold. 

“Hey.” You twist your head to the side to see Neteyam watching you, his hand outstretched. “We’ll be warmer closer together.”

The temptation of warmth is too hard to ignore, so you maneuver your way closer until you’re pressed against his side. He wraps his arm around your back, your head nestling into the crook of his arm. His skin is hot, nearly burning. 

“You were right, this is warmer.” You sigh contentedly, gazing up at the twinkling stars. 

Neteyam passes his hand over your side soothingly, leaving goosebumps along your exposed skin. His heart beats quickly under your head, and you sigh at the comforting rhythm.

On the next pass of his hand along your waist, the tips of his fingers brush the cord of your skirt. You stutter, stumbling over the story you’ve been telling. How can you possibly focus with him touching you like this? It’s nothing but a friendly touch, but… everything about him screams more. Intimate. His hand rests there against your hip, its warmth laying heavy against your skin. 

You do your best to sound normal as you recount the childhood story to him. It’s a simple tale about two friends and how they came to live amongst the stars, but the story becomes harder to tell as you become more aware of the man next to you. 

You continued to stutter over the story, but your stomach kept clenching with this unknown need. You were beginning to think you were sick or something. And when his fingers dip towards your navel, you forget about the story completely. 

“Y/n, why’d you stop?” He asks cheekily. Goosebumps rise along your skin as he strokes the skin just above your skirt. 

An uncomfortable tension had been growing under your skin all day, but in this moment it all seems to come to ahead. Something is wrong. Very wrong. The tingling against your skin and the tightness in your chest are new. But you know that something is very wrong because there is something decidedly wet between your legs. 

“Neteyam? I don’t think I feel very good.” You admit breathily, leaning a bit back from him. You’re sick. That must be it. 

“What is wrong?” Neteyam watches you, those keen eyes drinking you in. Maybe… maybe he’ll know what's wrong and help you?

“I-I don’t know. I feel weird. I think I’m sick.”

“Weird how?”

You grab the wrist of the hand lying against your stomach, holding him still. “Here. It is like….Like when you are hungry but do not have food,” You paused to think. “But I am not hungry. And…” Should you tell him? You’ve never talked about anything down there with anyone except your mother. 

He sits up, leaning his broad form over you. “And?”

“And I feel,” It feels shameful to speak about. “It feels wet, or something. Down there.”

Neteyam laughs, and you frown. You’re sick and he thinks it's funny? You never should have told him. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” You huff, glaring up at him. “I am sick or something. I need to see a healer.” 

“Oh, pretty girl.” He moves quickly, adjusting himself so he’s above you completely. His broad form blocks out the moon and the stars above, demanding all your attention. He cages you in, his arms on either side of your head and his legs bracing yours. “You do not need a healer, Y/n.”

He rests his weight on one arm and palms your cheek. Instinctively, you lean into it. 

“I don’t understand. What are you doing?” The question is like a whisper in the wind, floating between you. 

“You’re not sick.” He smiles kindly. “This feeling, down here,” He moves the hand from your face and presses gently onto the area below your navel. “It’s your body telling you that you have found a potential mate.”

You reel at this new information. How could you not know this? How come nobody has told you? And did this mean Neteyam was a potential mate? You have so many questions and so few answers. 

“Why does it hurt?” If this is supposed to be a good thing, a signal that he would make a good mate, then why is it so uncomfortable?

Neteyam grins, leaning down to nuzzle your cheek. He lowers his body to rest his weight over you fully, pressing his body right up against yours. He eases one of his legs in between your thighs and settles. 

“I can help you, Y/n. Make it less painful.” He kisses your cheek softly, and you nod. He’s been so kind and you can't help feeling safe with him. You want him to help relieve the ache, no matter how he does it. 

“Say please.” He reprimands sternly. 

“W-what?” 

He smirks down at you. “Be nice and say please,” He kisses the tip of your nose. “And I’ll make it feel better.”

You don’t want to be rude, especially not when he’s helping you. 

“Please Neteyam.” The plea is more of a whine than anything else. 

He presses his thigh up against your center, the cloth of your skirt the only thing between your skin and his. You moan softly at the foreign pressure, pressing your hips down to meet him. It feels….Good. You roll your hips, searching to replicate the sharp spike of pleasure it elicits. You clutch at his arms, closing your eyes as you revel in the new sensation. 

“I’m going to kiss you, okay, pretty girl?” The only sound you make in response is a soft whimper, nodding your head again.

He kisses you softly at first and then harder, slotting his mouth against yours and drowning out your gasps. He laps at your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours expertly. Neteyam’s hand cups the spot where your neck meets your jaw, holding you still as he devours you. 

You wrap your arms around him, latching onto him hungrily. You had no idea kissing could be like this. Could be so all consuming. Neteyam was all but claiming you with his mouth, declaring to you that you were his and his alone. You would never want another after him.

You writhed against him, circling your hips as you sought an ending to the aching throb in your clit. Neteyam slides his hand to your hip and guides you, taking control of your frenzied movements. You give in to him easily, allowing him to mold your body against him and melting in his hands. 

He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. You moan out, gasping for air. He bites down softly, sharp canines digging into your skin. 

You gasp out his name. “Neteyam—“

You’re cut off by the sound of a conch horn nearby. It shrills loudly through the night sky and you freeze all movement. It sounds again, this time closer, and icy fear runs down your spine. 

 “No, no, no!” You push at his chest hard, and the man rolls to the side immediately. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong? What are those horns?”

You sit up off the ground, eyes wide in fear. You huff for breath, pushing up from the sand. 

“They sound those horns when someone is missing,” Your voice wobbles as tears well in your eyes. 

While you knew you would be in trouble for leaving, you hadn’t really thought about it. Going with Neteyam had been spur of the moment and you had just pushed the consequences aside. And now? Now you would actually have to face those consequences. 

There was a moment of silence.

“They are searching for you.” Neteyam says, realization dawning. “I didn’t realize they would send people out if you left.” 

“My parents are going to kill me.” Your hands start to shake. You were gone all day. Mom and Dad were going to kill you. The tears start to flow harder as you realize the extent of the trouble Neteyam will be in as well. 

“I am so sorry, Neteyam. Please, do not be mad at me.”

He grabs your shaking hands, pulling you into his chest. “Hey, I could never be mad at you.”

Your voice cracks. “My parents never let me leave the village, it is their biggest rule. They keep me with a chaperone all the time.” You take a deep breath. “I cannot handle being locked away in that village until the day I die. So, when you offered to bring me here today, I didn’t mention that it could get you in a lot of trouble. I am so, so sorry.”

He softens and pulls you into a tight hug. “Do not cry. I knew that you were a bit sheltered. I would have done anything to spend the day with you, pretty girl.”

You hiccup. “You are not mad at me?” 

“Of course not!” You relax into his hold, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Another horn sounds.

The two of you sit there silently for a moment before he leans away. “We have to go back. I will explain and tell them that I insisted on bringing you here.” He says surely. 

He would sacrifice himself, face your father’s wrath, just to protect you from punishment? The gesture is so sweet you can't help but kiss him again. No one had ever done anything like that for you. 

He kisses your forehead and takes your hand. “Come, we will ride the ilu back.”

You let him drag you to the ilu, all the way dreading the coming punishment. There is no way you are going to let him take the fall for this. 

Your parents are going to be furious that you left the village. They are going to be even more angry when they find out who you were with. And if they find out what the two of you did while you were alone on the island…..

You don’t want to think about it. Instead, you focus on holding your breath as you ride towards the island, ready to face the wrath of the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik.

Part 2 

[jazzythursday]

Wylan leaves in the morning.

He doesn’t plan to, not exactly, but he definitely doesn’t plan on staying, either.

Wylan is no stranger to one night stands. He can’t say he gets around very frequently, but enough to know the general plot of how they're supposed to go.

Flirt, drink, fuck, leave. The order isn’t necessarily set in stone, but the list ends the same every time.

He has a good time, for the most part, and it’s always a welcome break from the awful chemical smell burned into the Tannery or the staleness of the empty rooms in cheap boarding houses (when he can afford them) that Wylan is used to. Wylan likes the freedom that comes with it, too. It’s liberating to go where he wants and do what he pleases; to not worry about who he’s seen with or sleeps with or what they might think of him after. And he likes feeling wanted, for a little while. He likes being reminded that he exists.

So Wylan does not make a habit of falling asleep with the people who take him to bed.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, really.

He doesn't remember, and yet, Wylan wakes up with his head pillowed on Jesper’s chest. With Jesper’s arm draped over him. His breath is warm where it ghosts over the top of his hair, and if Wylan glances up he can see the way Jesper’s mouth— those lips— fall open in sleep.

It’s the best morning he’s had in months, possibly. Certainly the most comfortable.

He knows it can’t last.

Wylan looks at Jesper, still sleeping peacefully next to him, and he panics.

He’d woken up in Jesper Fahey’s arms.

He’d slept with Jesper Fahey.

Jesper has a reputation, and Wylan knows it, even new to the Barrel as he is. He’d heard about Dirtyhand’s second and resident sharpshooter plenty— Can’t resist a gamble, never misses a shot, and not just with bullets. Jesper Fahey is an excellent marksman, they say, with terrible luck with the cards, and a soft spot for pretty girls and even prettier boys.

Jesper’s played the field— multiple fields— went on a seismic world tour of fields.

Wylan is very good at not being noticed. He’s also very good at listening. People tend to look past him, they never pay any mind to the too skinny boy with the wild hair and the hunched shoulders and the grime that never seems to wash off completely after his long shifts at the Tannery. Wylan knows this, knows he’s very adept at being able to disappear, when he needs to.

So by the time Wylan actually meets Jesper, he’s well aware of his place in Ketterdam’s booming rumor mill. Jesper has many, and Wylan thinks by now he may have heard them all.

And yet, none of them do a thing to prepare him for Jesper.

They’d met in a tavern.

Wylan had been nursing his drink for the better half of an hour, trying to come up with reasons not to go back to the sad cot he had waiting for him in a rented room, with the only window overlooking the brick wall of a dark alley.

So far, he’d only come up with the one.

Wylan had seen the tall Zemeni man from across the room and hadn’t stopped looking since. He was flirting with a girl at the bar, twirling one of his guns in one hand demonstratively with a drink in the other. The girl— a curly haired blond— was giggling, hand pressed to her mouth with eyes that had very clear and direct intentions.

Wylan had almost resolved himself to a night of wasting the few kruge at his disposal with little to show for it, when the man had looked up and caught him staring. The man had smiled, twirling his gun with an extra flourish and then tipped his hat. Wylan smiled back, and gave a little wave. Embarrassing, He’d thought, stop it, he’s already with someone else anyway. He’d looked down, and stared at the near empty contents of his drink until someone sat down next to him and said, in a voice like apple butter and sweet syrup, “Can I get you another of those?”

Then Wylan had looked up into the eyes of the handsomest man he’d ever seen, and thought, he has the most perfect lips.

Out loud, he’d said, “I, uh, well—” His mouth was wide open, he’d realised, and shut it quickly. Again, the man had smiled. Again, Wylan had smiled back. “Yes, please.”

And that's how he’d met Jesper.

Afterwards, they’d stumbled through the streets— I know a place, Jesper said, If you want to take this somewhere more private— until they’d passed a corner where a vendor was selling traditional Kerch sweets out of a cart.

“Stroopwafels!” Jesper had stopped. “I love stroopwafels!”

Wylan was tugging him toward the cart without really making a conscious decision to move, and Jesper had laughed, surprised and delighted.

Wylan bought them both stroopwafels and handed Jesper his with a shy smile and a shrug. “For the drink.”

Jesper looked at him consideringly, head caulked to the side, and Wylan felt himself blushing in the low light of the lamps. “You’re sweet,” he’d said eventually.

“Is that bad?” Wylan had asked, sheepish. Jesper was already shaking his head.

“It’s good. Just not that many sweet things to be had in the Barrel. It’s refreshing.” He’d bit off a piece of one of the waffles and smiled. “These are sweet too,”— he’d leaned in, smile still earnest but with something decidedly different underneath— “I like sweet.”

Jesper had not touched him like he’d been expecting to be touched. Jesper made no assumptions; he’d asked, about everything, in a way that was near gentlemanly if it wasn’t for the fact that he radiated trouble through his pores. Jesper was— not quite gentle, because Wylan had expected hot and heady and everything deep, and Jesper was all of that and more— but he wasn’t rough. He didn’t bruise, not if Wylan didn’t say yes first, and afterwards he’d laid back down and settled Wylan into his arms in a way that he had no real way of protesting— didn’t want to protest, anyway— and kissed him.

It was that that had scared Wylan the most, he thinks. Because Wylan is rarely kissed for the express purpose of it. It was always the promise of more— the rush of what was to come. But people do not generally tend to kiss Wylan for the sake of kissing Wylan. It’s different. Jesper is different, and Wylan can’t afford to be stupid enough to do something like get attached. Can’t afford much at all— really.

But Jesper had kissed him, pleased and lazy and warm, and at some indeterminate time later they had both apparently fallen asleep.

And it was nice.

It was too nice. It hurt with how nice it was.

Wylan peels himself slowly out of Jesper’s arms, careful not to wake him, and decides then that he cannot stand to be here any longer.

Jesper Fahey is not what he’d expected, he’s better.

Jesper Fahey is lovely, and beautiful, and kinder to him than anyone has been to Wylan for almost as long as he can remember.

Jesper Fahey is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he isn’t going to stick around for someone like Wylan.

So Wylan leaves, and he doesn’t look behind him as he closes the door.

[deadghosy]

WHAT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK READER ?!

Hungry for some kidneys 😋🏃‍♀️

STOPPP CAUSE I HAD A CRUSH ON HIM- WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME BRO😭 I THOUGHT THIS MAN WAS SOOOO FINE🦆💗 which he still is 🤭😘

HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK! READER

prompt: an eyeless man gets dared to go inside of a cartoon for some free “food”

Ben had dared you to go inside of this cartoon show that was becoming popular. You said hell no of course….but then he said the impossible…

“Would you either go in the cartoon for kidneys or listen to me tell you the whole script of the new movie.” Ben says with a knowing smirk at which one you would chose.

Never in your life have you jumped into a tv before so quick. But here you are as you stand in the middle of a red twin with dead bodies around. So you smile behind your blue mask and got to work.

You were so busy kidney hunting, you didn’t notice a tall red figure behind you smiling intrigued at how you were only looking for kidneys with your scalpel. You felt skinny hands touch your shoulders as you immediately tried to stab the hand quickly. But it was a wrong move because you got pushed by some green magic.

“Quick reflexes. Amazing my friend! You would do good for this hotel im helping” the man said as you stared at him. Before you could protest you got transported to a damn hotel.

NOW ENOUGH STORY MODE TYPE SHIT! NOW FOR THE FUN🔥

I imagine Angel one time seeing you use your tongues to eat a kidney that was in disguise and Angel had so many dirty jokes for you.

“Omg, I bet you’re a woman pleaser aren’t you?” Angel says suggestively as you just raise a brow at him not knowing what he is saying.

Charlie would try to get you to wear brighter colors, but you literally deny it as if you are still stuck in your emo phase making Charlie get war flashbacks to her own emo phase.

Imagine taking your bluemask off and scaring sir Pentious into thinking you are a ghost to steal his eyes😭 so evil but so funny.

I can see husk literally side eyeing you as you just eating. Like he is just so confused how you don’t bite on none of your other tongues.

I know some people draw ej with black fingernails, but what if Angel had painted them for you instead 💗

Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel is like “ah shit I lost my wallet..” and STARTS TO LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR EYES 😭 straight up digging his hands in ya eyeless holes to look for it and he actually did find it with a smile saying “ah Hah found it!”

Legit Angel will remind you of Ben as Angel will shove his phone in your face saying some dumb shit like. “Do you see it? Do you see it ? Do you see it?” As he has a stupid smirk on his face. You snapped grabbing Angel by his throat as the crew tried to pull you off of Angel as he struggles to breathe. “It was worth it…”

I headcannon EJ! Reader and Alastor being compatible friends because they both eat from human meat. But both different as EJ! Reader just eats the kidneys as Alastor eats the whole things

NAH IMAGINE KID EJ!READER GETTING THE LEFTOVER KIDNEYS FROM PARENT! ALASTOR’S PLATE😭💗💗 (so damn cute)

“No no, you use the little fork and the knife to cut it.” “….I literally eat with my hands.”

Just two hungry boys staring at each other while discussing flavors to make out of people.

The egg boiz likes to bring you dead sinners as you had promised them to read them bed time stories for kidneys..I mean a fair trade is a fair trade. 🦆

Idk but for me it makes sense for EJ! Reader to bite someone’s hand while sleeping cause in the fanon! slender house they are use to pranks being pulled off so many times.

Literally husk was trying to wake you up cause it was your duty to do the bar tendering and you ALMOST bit his whole hand off if it wasn’t for Husk’s scream.

I can see Lucifer trying to show you his ducks because he found how amusing how quiet and blunt you are as he practically shoved a duck in your face forgetting you don’t have eyes.

“Do you see how cute and amazing this is?! It’s a duck that can do the splits while shooting fire!” “I see.” *awkward silence* “I’m so sorry-” “sorry for what.”

I can see how your dynamic with Lucifer is like “I think I forgot something x I have it in my hand..”

Charlie once had you in red as you actually just stood there while she took photos of you. It was like you were ready for the first day of school as Charlie squealed happy to see her new staff wearing red.

“SMILEE!” Charlie say excited as you just stand there trying to smile but it came out strained showing all of your sharp teeth. “Yeah don’t ever smile again.” Angel said in the background as you jumped at him like foxy in fnaf 2 😭

I imagine you just standing there as Alastor puts his arm on your shoulder like an arm rest. Literally you are “😐 what?” face as Alastor is obviously “😄 what a lovely day!”

I can see you and niffty just playing random games during break time as husk just cleans glasses at the bar. It’s a relaxing sight for once without you trying to get someone’s kidney.

I imagine you and Adam having so much beef as he is annoying asf to you.

“Why are you eyeless? So you can’t see how ugly you are?” “No, so I can’t see how fat you basically are so it won’t affect me.”

THE WAY YOU GAGGED HIM- 😭🤭‼️

I can see the Vee’s trying to get you on their side but you would probably just flip them off as you eat a kidney.

I can imagine Vaggie trying to find out why there is black goo on the hotel stairs to find you are crying since Charlie banned you to scalpel anyone’s kidneys.

Vaggie and Charlie give you the angel dust treatment and try to find any scalpels you have in your room

I can see after the battle of the heaven and hell, you would just stand there like “🧍🏾what the fuck just happened..” as you try to scalpel a few angels only for vaggie to pull your blue hoodie away from one.

When Lucifer first met you, he thought you was a teen demon who just got hired. He wasn’t wrong for the hired part, when you first spoke that man thought he heard god himself as his eyes were wide at you.

I can headcannon Alastor bringing a sinner to your door with a note that say, “eat well <3” and you just stand there like….. “did I just get adopted by a cannibal..” you said picking up the unconscious sinner and grabbing a scalpel.

NAH CAUSE I USE TO BE FERAL FOR THIS MANNNN😨😭😭💗💗 HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!🦆‼️