#tickle fic requests open

[titters-and-tingles]

Maybe Angel Dust finding out Husk is ticklish when he tries to help him preen his wings?

Okay, this took a while, and I ended up with a bit more than 200 words, but here you go!

Wigglier Than Usual

Lee: Husk

Ler: Angel Dust

It's become a routine of a sort. Angel comes down to Husk's room once a week a week. They put on a movie— usually something light and fun. Angel wraps himself Husk and gets to work on his wings.

It's fun, having a task that can occupy all six of his hands, and it's nice hearing Husk's reverberating purr, loud enough it almost drowns out the love confessions and the crying in the rain coming for the TV.

They aren't really watching the TV anyways. It's just background noise to whichever of one of them is complaining at the moment.

When it's Husk, Angel to indigantly exclaim 'oh no he didn't' and 'god that sound exhausting'. And when it's Angel's turn, Husk gets to say things like 'what an asshole' and 'you can't catch a fucking break'.

Today, it's Angel turn. "—I felt like I was changing outfits every five fucking minutes, how many uniforms are there even? Turns out a lot," he works his fingers higher up, near the base of Husk's wings as he talks, "I got ta be a policeman, a nurse, a doctor, a fireman, a safety inspector, someone in HR,"

Husk snorts, interrupting his purring.

Angel moves his hands a little lower, working at the feathers at the base of Husk's wings. "Yeah, I didn't think HR people had a uniform! Then again, HR departments are made up so I guess they can have uniforms if they want." He threads his fingers through the feathers, smoothing them out. "I got to write up a buncha violations before the CEO violated me, if ya know what I mean."

Husk coughs and breaks into muffled snickering. His wings flare out, clipping Angel's shoulder and nearly knocking him off the bed.

"Hey, careful! I'm not done yet."

Husk tucks his wing back in. "Sorry 'bout that." He gestures at Angel's shoulder.

"Nah, you're fine. Didn't even hurt." Angel got back to work, sorting through the feathers closing to the bottom. "You're wigglier than usual, are your wings hurt or somethin?"

Husk flushes red under his fur. "My wings are fine. It's your fingers that are 'wigglier than usual'."

It takes less than a second for Angel's eyebrows to shoot up and a smirk to break onto his face. "They're wigglier?" And he wiggles all of his fingers into Husk's wings.

Husk attempts a shout and pulls his knees up to his chest. He breaks down in coughing snickers, reaching behind himself to try and bat Angel away.

"You're ticklish!" Angel tells him smugly, tucking his fingers into the fold of Husk's wings. One of his hands wanders down to Husk's belly and gives it a few pokes.

Still snickering, tail lashing against the mattress, Husk tries to pry the hand off his stomach, only for a second hand to join it. "I know I'm ticklish, hey—!"

"Coochie coo, Whiskers!" Angel jabbed him a couple of times in the sides to hear him snort. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!"

Husk manages to catch one of Angel's hand and holds it away from him. The other three, one on his stomach, one in his wing and the third scritching the back of his neck.

He tries to muffle his laughter with one hand, but loses his grip on Angel's hand, which promptly digs itself in his armpit.

Husk curls up, burying his laughter in the crook of his elbow and trying to roll away from Angel. "Alright! Alright! Get off of me!"

"Okay, okay," Angel lets go, snickering. "See? Not tickling you anymore, Giggles."

Husk grunts and rubs at his face, still breathing funny from the laughter. He gave Angel a half-hearted shove. "What was that about?"

Angel grins at him. "I didn't know you were ticklish!"

Husk snorts and gives him another half-hearted shove. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He gave Angel a point jab to the side, and Angel squeaked. "Looks like I'm not the only one."

Angel holds up his hands. "Hey, hey, hey, wait, c'mon—" and he's pushed into the mattress, cackling, paws wiggling against his sides.

[pastelpiggielol]

Can you please do another criminal minds fic, but with Spencer x reader?? 🥺🥺 I am apart of that little corner of the internet who loved your writing (and I’m a little shy to show who I am haha) 🌸🌸

of course I can! I'm not quite as good at writing x reader but I will channel my years of reading fanfic and do my best

Quick Comfort - A Spencer Reid x reader ticfic

Word count: 720

Characters: Spencer Reid, new team member reader

Your heart sat heavy in your chest as you closed your apartment door behind you, your wonderful boyfriend having already brought your bags inside. The familiar smell of pine filled your senses as you took a a moment to surround yourself in the feeling of home. You had just returned from a particularly rough case and wanted nothing more than to take your mind off of it entirely, and finally being at home with all your creature comforts was already a world of help.

"y/n? Do you want coffee?" Called Spencer from the kitchen.

"Yeah sure, I'm going to get changed so I'll be in the bedroom." You replied before kicking your shoes off and dragging yourself to the bedroom.

By the time you had peeled the dirty clothes from your skin, cleaned up and wrapped yourself up in your fluffiest pyjamas, Spencer had joined you and set your coffee down on your nightstand. The smell alone was enough to relax your shoulders just a bit.

"Thanks, I don't know about you but I'm beat." You chuckled as you slid into bed beside him.

"Yeah, you look exhausted." He agreed with a smile, though his expression shifted seeing your obviously low mood. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I don't know, I just want to take my mind off that case. It was really... It's going to stick with me." You replied, staring into your swirling coffee.

"Well... I think I know something that might help you forget about it." He suggested. Your stomach lurched at his words, instantly jumping to your absolute favourite thing in the world, your failsafe as Spencer likes to call it. A smile tugged at your cheeks but you fought with all your strength to suppress it and seem nonchalant about his suggestion.

"And what would that be?" You probed, sipping your coffee and setting it on the nightstand. A grin of his own crept onto his face as he replied.

"Oh I don't know, maybe I could give you a shoulder massage," He teased and reached a hand onto your shoulder, "Or maybe a gentle back rub," He continued, moving his hand down your shoulder blade and to your lower back, "Or maybe, I could do this!" He finished, and with a playful battle cry he dove his fingers right into your waist.

Instinctively, your arms snapped to your sides as primal laughter cascaded from your chest. His hands made masterful work of scribbling, prodding and pinching at the sensitive skin, sending jolts throughout your entire body in the wake of his fingers.

His attack was ceaseless. Fingers worming around your midriff and burrowing between your ribs sent you into fits of hysteria and uncontrollable writhing. Your skin was utterly alight with every touch radiating a sparkling, sweet sensation across your body in ripples and waves. And your laughter was raucous. As his attack persisted, your mind emptied of all thought besides the wonderful and pure joy being exchanged between you both.

In the gaps of your own laughter and squirming, you could hear the gentle giggling of your loving assailant as he drowned you in his affection. Every inch of your body wound up as though filled with electricity and every thought in your mind was dispelled. Your cheeks and abdomen were beginning to ache from all the laughter, though that would never have been enough for you to call an end to the joy.

However, with your arms flailing in pursuit of his, you felt the back of your hand hit something sharp and solid and pain quickly erupted in place of the tickling.

"Shit! Stop stop stop. Ow!" You hissed and winced as you cradled your hand (still smiling and chuckling) and looked to see what you had hit. Thankfully, nothing had fallen, you had simply bashed your nightstand. However, Spencer treated the minor injury with all the care in the world, gently taking your hand and kissing your knuckles as soft as ever.

"Are you okay? Can you move it?" he asked as he gently examined the red patch as it formed.

"Yeah, I'm alright it was just a bump. But I think that's a sign that we should get some sleep." You smiled and moved to cuddle up to him.

"Yeah, are you feeling better now?" He asked gently with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Much. Thank you." You hummed happily.

[auroras-blog37]

Fic Idea for you (love your fics btw):

Reader gets stuck in an elevator with Mark Sloan. After talking for a while he accidentally finds out she's horribly ticklish. Preferably, platonic. No worries if you can't do it <3

Thank you so much!!!

Elevators And Ticklish Confessions:

The soft hum of the hospital’s fluorescent lights flickered overhead, giving the small elevator an eerie glow as it jolted to an abrupt stop.

“Seriously?” you groaned, pressing the emergency button repeatedly as if sheer frustration could jump-start the machine.

Mark Sloan, who had been standing calmly in the opposite corner, glanced at you with an amused smirk. “I take it you’re not a fan of confined spaces?”

“It’s not the space,” you muttered, letting out an exasperated breath. “It’s being stuck. Aren’t you even a little annoyed? You probably have patients waiting on you or some urgent… Sloan-worthy moment to attend to.”

“I’m flattered you think so highly of my time,” he teased, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the elevator wall. “But honestly? I’m fine. Could be worse—I could be stuck in here alone.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him. “Careful, Sloan. That almost sounded sweet.”

He chuckled, the deep timbre of his laugh echoing in the cramped space. “Don’t let it go to your head, kid.”

After a few minutes of waiting, you sank down onto the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest. “So, any great advice on how to pass the time when we’re stuck in a metal box with zero reception?”

Mark joined you on the floor with a graceful ease that somehow didn’t diminish his confident aura. “We could always play the classic ‘Tell Me Something I Don’t Know’ game.”

“Fair, you go first.”

“All right.” He stroked his jaw dramatically, pretending to think. “I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue. Impressive, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Ugh. Predictable, Sloan. Fine, my turn.” You paused, glancing at him hesitantly. “Okay, this is super random, but... I’m really ticklish.”

The second the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them. Mark’s brow shot up, his smirk spreading into a downright devilish grin. “Oh really?”

“Don’t even think about it,” you warned, scooting a little further away.

“Oh, I’m thinking about it,” he said, and before you could escape, he reached over and gave your side a quick poke.

The reaction was immediate and mortifying. You squealed and flinched so hard you nearly toppled over, your giggling breaking free before you could stop it.

“Wow,” Mark said, laughing along with you. “When you said ticklish, I didn’t think you meant that ticklish.”

“Mark, I’m serious, stop!” you pleaded between uncontrollable giggles as he continued to poke and prod your sides with an almost surgeon-like precision.

“This is incredible,” he teased, clearly having the time of his life. “Here I thought surgery was my calling, but no, this—this might just be my true purpose.”

You swatted at his hands, still squirming as you gasped for air. “I’m going to strangle you as soon as I catch my breath!”

He finally relented, hands raised in surrender as he laughed along with you. “All right, all right. I’ll stop—for now.”

Still giggling and breathless, you shook your head at him, trying to regain your composure. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you’re stuck in an elevator with me,” he said with a wink, leaning back against the wall with a satisfied grin. “Admit it—you’ll never be bored in my presence again.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling despite yourself. “If we’re ever stuck in here again, remind me to bring earplugs and armour.”

Mark chuckled, giving you a nudge with his shoulder. “Deal, kid. Deal.”

[cooldudesthings]

Taking tkl fic and HC requests

Nothing NSFW/K!nk/Fetish PLEASE it makes me uncomfortable and I will not do them

I’m bored and have nothing else to do whenever I get some free time

So feel free to send in a request or an idea

Fandoms I will do

Obey me!

Honkai star rail

Stardew valley

Bungo stray dogs

Possibly love and deepspace

(may be a little out of character as I don’t know much about the characters)

[starrydaycare]

Can you do a lee pomni fic plss with ler ragatha or a pt 2 of the jax fic! Love ur work! Drink plenty of water and rest! <33

Yeah, I can! Though my apologies if Ragatha is OOC, I haven't written her before. Enjoy!

⭐Nsfw, ect, DNI!

The Sleepover, Lee!Pomni and Ler!Ragatha, 1168 words.

Ragatha, for once, was very excited! Usually, excitement only came for new circus members, but that was always alongside worry and concern for them. Pure excitement? Rare in their digital home, even for the “happier” people, the ones who accepted their fate, and trued their best to help everyone else. By ones, I mean Ragatha. Ragatha made sure to always help the newer folks to the digital circus, showing them around and making sure they’re not alone.

She remembers when she was new. She felt alone and scared. Confused as to where she was; 𝘸𝘩𝘺 she was suddenly in some crazy circus, why she couldn’t remember her own name. Kinger helped her to feel less alone, to feel happier in her new home. Kinger.... She was ever grateful for him. He helped her more than one could imagine, even if sometimes he didn’t remember.

But! That’s another conversation for another time. She was excited, as said before. Why, you may ask? Well, it all started about a week ago, when a recent addition to their digital circus appeared. She had been scared and confused; focused on leaving and nothing more. Of course, this posed as an issue, as they couldn’t leave. It was simply impossible! Once you enter, you can never exit. It’s a hard thing for people to accept, but it’s a fact regardless–and a true one at that.

Ragatha was right beside her the second she appeared, helping her adjust to her new life. At first, she was untrusting. Which was valid; a new, strange place with new, strange people. But Ragatha carried on, continuing to help the new member–Pomni, was her name–adjust and accept.

Sooner or later, the jester came around. It was definitely a slow process, and she still wasn’t fully adjusted yet. Ragatha could understand that, recalling when she was in Pomni’s shoes, scared and confused.

But she had made good progress! The jester had begun communicating with the other humans trapped in the circus, far more trusting than before. Of course, she didn’t trust Jax. Which was valid, very, very valid. Ragatha 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 didn’t fully trust Jax. And she had been there for a long time! Ragatha knew there had to be more to Jax. She saw the momentary longing looks, which were quickly covered up with looks of disinterest and a lack of care. She saw it all, even if Jax didn’t want her to see them. She still did; but if Pomni didn’t trust Jax, despite whatever’s beneath his rude and unkind act, she couldn’t help that.

But this wasn’t about Jax, this was about her and Pomni! Their relationship had been getting stronger and stronger throughout the week, and only continued to strengthen! One day, Ragatha wished to be close friends with the jester. And maybe that day would be soon, as she had managed to convince Pomni to sleepover in her room that night. That’s right, a sleepover of sorts! Ragatha had a nice room, as did the other humans trapped there. A nice, comfy bed, a good-sized TV, everything. So, it was a great room for sleepovers! Ragatha had it all planned out. They could maybe watch a movie or two, eat some snacks, play some games, then go to sleep. She hoped it’d go well! She wanted Pomni to feel welcomed, and whereas she believed that she was doing a good job at that so far, she wasn’t completely sure.

The day continued on, Ragatha’s excitement not dimming for even a moment. Today was one of the rare days of rest they got, so no wacky, life-threatening, possibly traumatizing adventures until tomorrow! Which was fine, perfect, actually. It gave her time to prepare for her guest.

She set up blankets and pillows in front of the TV, various games and DVDs stacked nearby, making for the perfect sleepover activity area. She popped some popcorn, sprinkling in some candies for fun, and grabbed them both sodas of various flavors. By the time she was done preparing, a knock at her door sounded. “Oh! Come in!” Ragatha welcomed, watching as the door handle turned and the door opened, revealing Pomni. Pomni awkwardly waved, speaking a small “Hi” along with the action. “Oh hey, Pomni! Come on in! I was just getting ready for our sleepover.” Ragatha welcomed, waving Pomni into the room.

Pomni Stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She went over to Ragatha, hesitantly sitting down beside her. “So... What’re we doing?” She asked. “Oh! Well, I thought that we could play some games, watch some movies... Anything, really.” She explained, looking at the jester with a soft smile. “Alright...” Pomni said.

They started the night off with a game of Mario Kart (Ragatha is surprisingly good at it; she won most of the rounds), then played Wii bowling (Pomni beat Ragatha in that one), after that they played Mario Party 8, and you get the point. At some point, they moved onto board games, playing various card games. The night had been going well!

Then, something happened. Pomni had beaten Ragatha in Uno, throwing her hands up and cheering. The jester had become more comfortable in Ragatha’s presence, it seemed, and Ragatha jokingly poked her in the side. Well, what Ragatha 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 expect, was the squeal that left the jester’s lips. Immediately, Pomni put her arms down, pinning them to her sides as she squealed. At first, Ragatha was filled with confusion. But her mind quickly put the pieces together, a knowing smirk reaching her lips. “Ohhh, Pomni!” She teased, Pomni looking at her with a worried yet obviously happy smile, her body shaking with withheld laughter. “Whahat..?” the jester questioned, a laugh in her voice. “Why’re you laughing, huh?” Ragatha asked, despite knowing the answer. This just caused Pomni to giggle more.

“Nohoho reheasehehn...” she said, hugging herself. Ragatha scooted closer to the jester, poking her side again, forcing another giggle out of Pomni. “You wouldn’t, by chance, be ticklish?” Ragatha asked, laughter falling from Pomni. “Nnuhuhuh-uhhuh...” She lied, her lies turning to loud squeals and laughter as Ragatha began skittering her fingers along the back of her neck. The jester scrunched up her shoulders, laughing. “HAHAHNNOHOHOHO!” She howled with laughter, pleading for something. For what? She had not a clue. “No? No, what?” Ragatha asked with a tilt of her head, a soft, teasing smile on her face. “HHHEHHAHHAHHNNNHOHHAHHA-“ Laughter continued to spill from Pomni’s mouth, the jester falling back and squirming. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears of laughter forming at her eyes as Ragatha used her other hand to begin spidering along her stomach.

“HAHHAH RAGAHAAAHAHTHAAHAHA!!” she all but screamed, wiggling. “What??” Ragatha questioned innocently. Pomni only replied with more laughter, words incomprehensible.

They went on like this for a while, Ragatha tickling the jester in various places, forcing laughter from her. Eventually she stopped, making sure Pomni was okay. Pomni giggled one last time, nodding.

And so their sleepover continued, moving onto the sleep part of it all...

[chaoticklesblog]

Tickle Fic Blog of Fluff and Whatnot:

Hey everyone!! I’m Chaos. I’m 23F and enjoy reading and writing fluffy fanfics. (More specifically, SFW tickle fics). I also am an enjoyer of tickling irl as well. I’m somewhat of a switch and frequently can be found instigating tickle fights with my husband (who likely won’t admit this, but he’s very ticklish himself). It’s likely I’ll also post stories/memories of one of us tickling the other in the future. Because boy, are there LOTS of them.

This is my new blog for posting fics and reblogging other fics I quite enjoy as well as well as other fluffy, schmarmy content. (My other older accounts will NOT be used).

Anywho, I like to write fluffy fanfics (when I can, please understand I also work full time and cannot devote every ounce of free time I have to writing as much as I wish that I could).

Feel free to send fic requests with the following stipulations:

No NSFW requests, PERIOD.

Bear in mind that I am an adult, and this is my blog. I will post what I enjoy and will use language that is typically PG13 and occasionally R-Rated. If that makes you uncomfortable, you can unfollow or block as you wish.

This is a safe space for all. Hate/bullying/racism/homophobia/transphobia have absolutely no place here. Hate of any kind will NOT be tolerated in any capacity.

Headcannons and fic requests are OPEN:

**PLEASE CONSIDER THE FOLOWING LISTS OF FANDOMS I WILL WRITE FOR**

ATLA

MCU/Spiderman

The Umbrella Academy

Scream

Supernatural

Harry Potter

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

Brooklyn 99

Shameless

Disney

*Please feel free to send prompts and requests even if you don't see a particular Fandom listed. I reserve the right to reject requests based on the Fandom, request, or time I have to write for any reason.*

[rachi-roo]

Opening requests again! I won't be taking any tickle requests for BSD, but if someone requests some whump, since it's Halloween, I'll consider it!

Other than that, any other fandom is good to go on the tiggles! Though after my last fic, I am feeling whumpy 👀

[tickly-giggles]

This could be interesting. I want some practice with writing and stuff, so I'm opening fic requests up for my boys if anyone's interested ^^

Here are their bios if you wanna get an idea for how they'd interact. I still needa write their story TwT;;

[chaoticklefics]

I’ve been on call for work and will be until Friday (demonic shrieking intensifies) so if you don’t hear much from me, that’s probably why.

I’ve been watching lots of ATLA and Helluva Boss and have let’s just say that tickle head cannons have been percolating. I’d love to do some stuff here soon but unfortunately, work takes priority… for now…

[ticklish-hanji]

Everyone I need your help

School stole my creativity and won’t give it back soon, so I need yalls requests. I write fics mainly about skz, however, I could also write about everglow, ive or bts. My requests are open and waiting for you.

-ina

[titters-and-tingles]

Hi! I'm currently taking writing requests for short (200~ w) (sfw) tickling snippets for the following fandoms:

Gravity Falls

The Adventure Zone: Balance

Hazbin Hotel

Lego Monkie Kid

If it's not one of these, you can still send me the request, and I might give it a shot!

Send the requests by ask ^u^

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

desperate people find faith

summary: your first mission ends with you in Jean's lab and a very worried Logan who's had trouble leaving your side wc: 2.0k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your very positive feedback on the previous fics with these two!!! I am really looking forward to writing more for them, so please feel free to send any requests for them my way, or Logan requests in general! And yes, the title is from a Taylor Swift song again. Lots of hurt/comfort in this one, talks of mushy gushy feelings, very worried Logan find the previous part here! all empath!reader fics here!

You took the cold table underneath you as a sign that something had gone wrong. You peaked one eye open before quickly squeezing it closed, the bright florescent lights too much to handle. You took a beat, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 

You remembered the jet landing in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, you and Jean searching an abandoned building looking for the young mutant that Charles had promised would be there and coming up empty. The two of you had made your way back to the jet and.. shit. The kid had freaked, and you distinctly remember taking enough damage to warrant a swift retreat back to the school. You must be downstairs, in Jean’s lab. It’s probably a bad sign that the first thing you worry about how much shit Logan is going to give you for this. 

You reached out with your power, too cautious of the lights (and the judgment of the rest of the team) to look with your eyes. A few people were mildly worried just across the room, but it was hard not to be distracted by the huge amounts of anger and exhaustion on your left. You debated facing him head on, being a grown up about it and fessing up to the fact that you were wrong. Thankfully, you could be immature when the situation called for it. You attempted to even out your breathing and smooth out the crease between your eyebrows, anything that could give you away. 

“Sweetheart?” Logan’s voice is so much softer than you were expecting, based on the waves of pure fury currently radiating off of him. 

You shush him, blinking one eye open. “I’m sleeping.” You whisper, letting your eye fall shut again. 

You felt his hand gently brush over the top of your head. His voice is closer, air tickling your ear as he leans down beside you. “Been sleeping for three days, bub. Need you to wake up now.” 

You turn your head to the side and are treated to Logan dropping a small kiss on your forehead. You can’t help but smile at the affection, eyes half open against the bright lights. After a few moments, they dim. Jean takes her place on the other side of the table, lab coat on and stethoscope in hand. You expected her to shoo Logan away in the name of a more thorough analysis but she doesn’t even attempt it. 

Logan’s hand finds your own, gripping tight enough to be just short of uncomfortable. Jean makes quick work of taking your diagnostics, and gently informs you that besides feeling fatigued, you are just fine. 

That can’t be right. 

You know that you caught the brunt of the impact, it was beginning to come back to you. The young mutant had lashed out, and before you’d had the chance to get close, he’d sent a car flying towards you and Jean. She’d managed to counteract it with her own mutation, firmly shoving you out of the way. But she hadn’t been fast enough to catch the small metal spikes he’d also thrown. There was no way you should be ‘just fine’ by now. 

Either Jean was in your head or the confusion was showing clearly on your face. She gave you a tight smile, eyes darting between you and the door. She took a few steps back, clearly intent of making her exit. “Jean, wait, there’s no way-”

She gave you her please stop talking smile. “I think it’s best if this comes from him,” she nodded at Logan, placing her stethoscope and clipboard on the side table. “I’ll be back in a bit to do one final check before we clear you.” She gives you another smile that didn’t meet her eyes, and then she was gone. 

You began to sit up slowly, still in shock that there was little to no pain, only stiffness from being immobile for too long. “What is she talking about?” Logan huffed, supporting you with a hand on your back. “What’s going on?” 

One hand made long, slow strokes up and down your spine, while the other had not loosened it’s grip on your own since you’d woken up. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the tell tale sign of his thinking face. You tried your best not to rush him, but everything about the situation was so confusing and your mind was racing. You were far too healed, and he was being far too calm for the anger that was rolling off go him, still. 

“Didn’t expect me to just sit around when you came back one foot in the grave, did ya?” 

“I’m sorry if me coming back banged up gave you extra work, I just don’t understand why you’re so upset with me.” 

His eyes went wide, the hand on your back stilling. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” The tremble in his voice almost had you convinced. 

“Don’t lie to me about it,” you help up your hand, still firmly entwined with his. “I can tell.” 

“I’m notmad at you, bub.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips, peppering it with kisses. “I’m mad at the little fuck who did this to you, I’m mad that they let this happen, and I’m furious with myself that I wasn’t there.” 

“He’s just a kid, Logan.” 

His shoulders shook with silent laughter, a stark white dancing at the edge of his emotions now. Shock. “You almost died, and your first instinct is to defend the little asshole responsible.” 

You leaned forward, bumping your shoulder against his chest in warning. “I feel fine.” He nodded, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his hand not currently locked with yours resumed it’s path up and down your back. You let it go on for a few moments, appreciating the silence and the grounding effect of his touch. “Do you… wanna fill me in on why exactly that is?” 

He sucked in a breath, shoulders visibly tense. “We were lucky that Hank was stopping by for a visit.” He played with your fingers, distracting himself. You tilted your head to the side, wondering why that information was important at a time like this. “When they brought you in, god there was so much blood. Jean managed to take care of a lot of it, but she didn’t know when, or uh, if you were going to wake up.” He blew out a breath, steadying himself. “You know that Hank has been asking for a long time-”

Both of your hands gripped his tightly. “Tell me you didn’t.” 

Hank had been asking for ages to use some of Logan’s blood to synthesize a more advanced healing serum for the X-Men. It was rare they came back with more than bumps and bruises, but he was a worrier and felt that Logan was the key to making something truly effective. The only problem? Logan hated needles. You’d only gotten bits and pieces from him about why, but you had a hunch that when you were alive for as long as he had been, people were willing to poke and prod for some answers. He’d never admit it, but you had felt how terrified he was the last time he’d been down hard after a mission, and Jean had tried to give him an IV of fluids to speed up the regeneration. It hadn’t ended well, to say the least. 

“I should’ve done it sooner. Seeing you like this, knowing I could have done something about it.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. 

Cautiously, you fit yourself against him, arms tight around his neck and your chest flush with his own. You half expected him to reprimand you, to remind you that you should be careful, not to move too much. Instead, he held you tightly, the side of his face pressed against the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that for a good long while, reveling in the comfort of the other. 

“I know you think that you only did it because,” you paused, steeling yourself. “Because it was me.” You can feel him trying to pull away, but you mold yourself to him even more tightly, knowing that if he really wanted to he could break away from you like it was nothing. “You’re wrong. You would have done this for anyone.” 

“Except for-”

“Even for Scott.” You were quick to cut him off, unwilling to hear him being so harsh on himself.

You pulled back, just enough so that you were able to meet his eyes. You needed him to know that you are being earnest. “You are a good man, Logan. And before you even try to deny it or say I’m lying I know you can hear my heart beat. And I know you can tell when people are lying. And besides, I’ve never ever lied to you, have I?” He shakes his head slowly, one tear falling, and a few more after that. You reached up, brushing them away. He grabbed your hand, gently placing a kiss on your wrist, and then your palm. 

“Y’scared me, sweetheart.” He murmured, voice muffled by your palm still against his lips. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

You slide your hand to cup the side of his face, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You know I can’t guarantee that.” His eyes closed for a moment, and you knew he was doing his best not to shout. “I will always be careful, but I can’t stay back and leave the work to everyone else. If I can help, I’m gonna help.” 

His eyes narrowed, the tiniest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Fine. But we’re getting you trained up and you aren’t going out there without me again for a good long while.” 

You rolled your eyes, the both of you well aware there was no ill will behind it. “If you insist.” 

“I absolutely do.” He pulled you back into his chest, keeping you there until Jean peaked her head in through the door. 

“If you two are done being mushy, there are a few people who have been dying to see you.” 

Ororo rushed into the room, playfully shoving Logan away to scoop you into her arms. She gently checked you over, ignoring the fact that you’d already had several medical professionals on the case. Scott clasped you on the shoulder, reassuring you that for a first mission, this was a success. You laughed before shooting Logan a look that begged him to let it pass. He huffed, but nodded all the same. 

“Shocked we didn't have to keep him from trying to tear the kid apart, but he refused to leave the lab.” Scott nodded his head at Logan, who was continuing to shuffle closer to the table where you sat. 

Well, you would be dutifully ignoring the latter half of Scott's quip, instead choosing to focus on the young mutant. “You mean he's?” 

Scott smiled, nodding. “He’s settling in upstairs.” 

You grinned, glad to know that it hadn’t all been for nothing. You fixed your gaze on Logan, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t even think about failing him out of history as some kind of weird revenge, I’ll know and I will find a way to get back at you for it.” 

Your friends laughed around you, let you know that Charles has ordered in your favorite take out for dinner and started to filter out of the room. Eventually, you and Logan are left alone again, sitting side by side on the metal table. 

“You still owe me an important conversation, ya know.” You bump your shoulder against his. You stay there, pressed against his side with your head leaning on his shoulders. His hand rests on your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Maybe wait until you aren’t in a hospital gown, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes, clearly aware that he was deflecting, but still content to take in his warmth and quiet support. You were safe, and you were home. Not just at school, but with him.

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

author's note | i saw a text post ages ago that i cannot find that inspired this. here's a vaguely disguised new years themed fic and some pwp to celebrate. not to get sappy on a blowjob fic but i'm very thankful for this community and the ideas that have been shared, love you all <3

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, established dynamic, idiots in love, shy!reader, joel being a quiet lover in public but loud in private, this is a deeply emotional blowjob y'all buckle in, unprotected piv.

word count — 2k

“Am I gonna have to shut you up just so I can tell you how pretty you are?” Joel snarks, only half-joking.

You hated compliments.

Joel loved giving them.

It was a slow work in progress, trying to feel comfortable with the showering of words, the outward affection Joel showed in private. 

He appreciated that you weren’t big on public displays, enjoyed the idea of keeping you and this, all to himself.

But, he liked you—had for some time. It took months of courage before he could bring himself to admit it. It was after a long night of patrol, a grueling walk to your last stop. You had both collapsed in exhaustion on the dirtied couch in the lookout far west of Jackson, delirious with sleep when the words finally left his lips. 

Even then, as he spoke, your hands found their way over your face, the heat of embarrassment prickling your skin as you shied away from him.

He’s learned to do it in subtle ways—a smile, longing looks, a touch, learning that love could be translated in many ways, not just words.

Besides, he wasn’t all that good at words anyways.

You decided to drag him back to your house after the annual New Year's celebration in Jackson—Tommy insisted that it was something to celebrate.

Another year of survival, another year without detrimental loss. Every day was something to cherish, but the party was a way to take a weight off of everyone’s shoulders.

You and Joel had never nailed down exactly what you were doing—just that you enjoyed it, you liked him, and he fancied you. He said it all the time, even now as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You are so old-fashioned,” You snorted softly, helping him strip the thick winter coat down his shoulders, torn on one sleeve still from a fight with another small group. You had promised to stitch it up. You were good on your promises, he knows you’d get to it eventually. 

He separates from you briefly, placing it carefully over the barstool in your kitchen before he’s pushing you up against your couch, your ass pressing against the hard edge of the back, nearly tumbling as he presses his lips against yours again, your hands curving around the back of his neck as you kiss him back in earnest.

“Somethin’ wrong with that?” He teases, “I know an old man who’s real good at makin’ you scream.”

You giggle softly, “Hush,” You chastise him, allowing him to lead you blind until you both could land on the couch safely, straddling his lap as he worked at your jeans, fitting his hands underneath the denim and cotton of your underwear as he squeezed at your ass, cupping the flesh tight in his hands as you gasp, nudging your nose against his as you breath into his open mouth, “You and that mouth, I swear.”

Joel chuckles, eyes opening to yours closed, hiding your face away as you mouth at his neck, pressing gentle kisses into the skin as he squeezes at your ass harder, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily.

“There she is,” He says with an air of wonder, like he’d just discovered something new, his overgrown curls tickling at your nose, “s’just me and you—don’t be shy.”

“I’m not—“ You argue, “you know I’m not.”

You widen your legs, grinding down against the growing length beneath the zipper of his jeans, leaning back as his eyes drag down your body, slipping his hands from your jeans to squeeze at your thighs, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth with your lazy rhythm.

“I know, baby,” Joel coos, “need me to fuck you? Don’t you?”

You nod fervently, “Please—Joel, please.”

Your lips part, perching forward to grip into the collar of his shirt as you lazy movements become more frantic, face contorting in pleasure as your tongue glides along your bottom lip, distinctly aware of Joel’s affectionate gaze.

“Fuck—never gonna get tired of that,” Joel speaks aloud, one hand rising to cradle your face as his thumb drags over you wet lip, “how pretty you look when you get needy—pretty all the damn time, but—“

You kiss him quick in an effort to silence him, his laughing blending into a groan as you bite down on his bottom lip, stripping your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before you’re reaching for his belt, loosening it while he licks into your mouth, the subtle taste of malt liquor on your breath.

It matched his own, sharing a drink with him earlier in the night as he hid away in the corner of the room, as he often did at parties, too eager to get his hands on you as he watched you work your magic, gracing your smile upon everyone that passed, keeping up small talk that Joel would rather not suffer through. 

“Got a request,” He tells you, speaking against your lips as you hum in question, “how much d’ya want me to beg to get those lips around my cock?”

You giggle softly, wordlessly you move toward the floor, working against his jeans before he’s helping you shove them down far enough that he can scoop his balls into his hand, rolling them against his fingers as he wraps his other hand around his cock, pushing his thumb over the head as he guides it into your waiting mouth.

It was always a stretch, even like this.

You apply a gentle kiss before your lips spread, the faintest taste of precum at the tip of your tongue before you’re guiding your mouth down his cock, the salty taste of the velvet skin around him, a musky but sweet taste to the opaque liquid gathered at the slit.

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” He breathes, running his finger through your hair as he pushes it back, his other hand hovering nearby, curling into a tight fist as you press your nose into the thick patch of curls at the base, “shoulda stuffed this mouth sooner, seems to do the trick.”

You gag against his forceful movement, burying the head of his cock into your throat so far his teeth clenched, leaving you effectively silenced.

“S’that what it took, a mouthfulla’ cock and you won’t stop me from complimentin’ you for once?”

Beggars can’t be choosers, he’d take it.

And such a pleaser you were, you had a job to do.

Usually he revels in the feeling, subdued and quiet while he watches you work, skilled hands and an exquisite mouth to match, he’d hit the jackpot somehow. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” He encourages, allowing you up for air for a brief moment as your spit slick mouth drools down his shaft, tears brimming your eyes, “fucking beautiful takin’ it all in like that—more?”

You nod, watching as he grips his shaft, tapping the mushroom shaped tip against your lips, teasing you as you slip your tongue along his shaft, guiding you back as you chase his movements.

“Work for it, baby,” He insists, “show me how bad you wan’ it.”

Impatience grows, you huff through your nose as you swat his hand away, wrapping your own hand around his cock instead, your mouth covering what your fingers couldn’t, your other hand cupping his balls, rubbing a single finger down the seam of his sack as you twirled your tongue around the dripping head, lapping up his cum at this slit.

“That’s right, lookin’ like a goddamn dream. Eyes on me, sweetheart,” He beckons, with you peeking through tear-stained eyes, silenced as your mouth is stuffed full of him.

Eventually, your tongue trails along the vein at the underside of his cock, reaching the seam of his sack before you’re rolling his balls along your tongue, sucking them between your lips with a wet noise that causes Joel to groan, his hand squeezing in your hair at the scalp.

“I would keep you like this for hours if you’d let me, wish you could see how fuckin’ amazing you look, gotta know how lucky I am to have you—I am, I’m so lucky, baby.”

In any other context, you would cry. 

It scared you, hearing the admission. The love Joel felt so immensely, the love that terrified you—because when things get too serious, they always go south. 

It was easier to keep things light—fun, simple. As much as you had found a home in Joel, nested in between his ribcage, around his heart—it was still constricting.

Physicality was easy to detach from.

Words, however, meant the world to you.

You couldn’t hear those words unless, in his heart, he truly meant them. Even then, it still terrified you. But, he had you now. Locked on his gaze, the words tumbling from his mouth like a dam finally breaking—you were done for.

“Stick your tongue out,” He orders gently, watching you move away to follow his order, rubbing the head of his cock over the wet, fleshy muscle, “always listenin’ so well, too,”

You feel the heat in your face return as you close your eyes to avoid his intense gaze, sucking him down eagerly as you shift from your haunches to your knees, hurrying your pace as he begins to fall apart, pathetic grunts of half pleasure and half plea filling the room.

Shamelessly, you swallowed him down again as he pressed against the back of your throat, holding yourself in place until he collapsed against the back of the couch, his hands tangled into your hair carelessly as you gagged, a distinct sound that brought Joel over the edge in an instant.

“Oh—oh, fuck. Darlin’, I fuckin’—“ His orgasm surges quickly to the surface, the warm of his cum spreading against your tongue as you swallow him down without hesitation, “God, I’m so in love with you,”

You can feel him shudder against your tongue, cock twitching as you remove him from your mouth, his chest releasing a sigh as he reaches blindly for your hand, silently begging you to come to him. You crawl slowly, careful as you position yourself over him again, his hand pushing your fallen hair away from your face as he pulls you in, breathing heavily into the lazy kiss he presses against your lips.

“Been tryin’ to tell you for so long,” Joel admits with a fond tone, “you’re always shuttin’ me down,”

“I’m sorry,” You admit softly, “S’just—words mean more to me than you think.”

“Oh baby—I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Joel assures, “I’m not throwin’ that shit around lightly. I mean it—every fuckin’ bit.”

You let the conversation fall silent, eyes scanning over his relaxed expression.

“Is that what it took, though?” Joel teases, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing against the plush skin, “Gotta shut you up with my cock to tell you all the nice things you deserve to hear?”

“It does help, doesn’t it?” You counter with amusement, his face cracking into a smile, the skin beside his eyes creasing with emotion as you laugh, his own mixing with yours.

“It does,” He agrees with a chuckle, pulling you forward gently to curl his hand around the back of your head and pull you into his chest, echoing a quieter, “It does.”

Still undressed at the waist, Joel nips at your skin, a tell-tale sign of his persistence.

“Slow down, cowboy,” You tease, “It’s almost midnight—can’t have you skippin’ out on our kiss.”

“Better yet, I can start it off inside ‘ya,” He bargains, a deal that seemed far too good to pass up.

Joel is eager in his attempts to get you undressed from the waist down, shrugging his shoes and jeans off completely before you straddle his lap, gripping his cock with a delicate hold, slipping it inside of you slowly, enjoying the contortion of Joel’s expression as your walls squeeze around him. 

You can hear the muffled celebration off in the distance as Joel whispers something unintelligible into your skin, nudging your shirt up high enough with his nose until he can get his mouth on your skin, aiding the slow bounce of your hips with his hands as he pants, “I love you too,” You admit, “f’that wasn’t already clear.”

“Crystal, darlin’—but it is nice to hear.”

There was no rush for now, enjoying the sensation of each other’s bodies in a way that consumed you both, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as you spoke into his open mouth.

“Happy New Year,” You tell him, fighting through your own quiet giggle.

Joel nods in approval, humming, “S’right—Happy fuckin’ New Year.”

[skzdust]

Can I Touch?

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

Merry Christmas, everyone. This is my smutty present to all of you and to Bee especially lol.

This fic was a request from @kpop---scenarios (here) and a part of my 500 followers celebration!! Big thanks for requesting bestie and I hope you love it <3 The prompt was #23, caught in the act, with Lee Know, NSFW!

Summary: Minho is horny at a party, and now it's your problem... and, when you sneak into Hyunjin's room, it becomes his problem, too.

Pairing: Lee Know x Hyunjin x fem!reader

Includes: fucking at a party, an unexpected visitor, nipple play, unprotected sex, kissing

Word count: 1.3k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

Minho leaned in by your ear. “C’mon, baby, just come with me for a second?”

You laughed softly. “Everyone’s here, Minho, they’ll notice if we’re gone.”

��No, they won’t.” His breath tickled your ear. “No one will know. It’ll just be you and me.”

You swallowed. You couldn’t deny that it sounded appealing. Minho had spent the whole evening working you up— his hands grazing your thigh, or lingering a bit too long on your waist. His eyes roaming your chest, your whole body. You wanted him, and it was clear he wanted you. “Minho… I don’t know.”

“But I need you, baby.” He murmured. “Need you bad.”

You sucked a breath in through your teeth. “You need me so bad you can’t wait till we get home?”

“Exactly.” He nipped at your earlobe, and you were glad the girl you’d been talking to had wandered off a minute ago, leaving no one to pay attention to Minho’s blatant attempts to turn you on.

“Okay.” You whispered. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but… yes.”

“Sounds good.” He pressed a kiss to your neck. “Let’s go find a bedroom.”

Your stomach leapt as Minho led you by the hand up the stairs. “Min, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah… I know which one is Hyunjin’s. He won’t care.”

You laughed. “You mean he won’t care if we fuck on his bed?”

“Exactly.” Minho smiled, pushing open a door. “Come on in.”

You followed him into the room, and he shut the door before pressing you against it and all but growling in your ear. “Baby… you look so good in that little fucking dress. Trying to tease me all night.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease you.” You said, but you were breathless already as Minho’s hand found its way up your skirt to play with your underwear.

“Sure.” He ran his fingers over your pussy, prompting a whine. You were so sensitive to his touch, especially when you were already horny.

“Okay, so, maybe a little bit.” You admitted.

“Just what I thought, baby.” He kissed you, long, searing on your lips. You could barely breathe as he invaded your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours. His hand was still playing with you, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

“Oh, you like that?” He rubbed at your pussy harder through your underwear, the fabric rough against you.

“Yes, Minho.” You exhaled.

“Get on the bed.”

You wiggled your underwear off, throwing them somewhere on the floor, and landed on your back on the bed.

Minho crawled on top of you, and as you looked down you could see the bulge in his pants. “You want it, baby? You want it inside you?”

“Yes.” You whimpered. “Want it deep inside me, Minho. We gotta be fast.”

He laughed as he leaned down to kiss you again, hard, demanding. He broke away and sat back to pull off his pants and boxers.

He was already hard, but he stroked himself a few times as he lined himself up with your hole. “Just know you’re gonna be so good around me.”

You just whined, angling your hips up.

Minho rubbed his tip around a little bit, getting it wet with your slick, and began to push inside. He was about halfway in when the door hinges squeaked.

You both froze, whipping towards the door.

Hyunjin stood there, his eyebrows raised. “Well, I didn’t expect you guys to be in here.”

Minho began to pull out.

“No, no, don’t stop.” Hyunjin closed the door, leaning against it, watching the two of you. “Go on. If you’re borrowing my room, you at least should give me a show.”

You nodded, looking at Minho. “We should, shouldn’t we?”

He smirked. “We should.” He pushed back inside with one big thrust that made your eyes roll back and pulled a long moan from your throat.

“Fuck.” Hyunjin said softly.

“She’s so pretty when she’s getting fucked, isn’t she?” Minho’s voice was fond, tender. “I’ve always thought so.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Hyunjin groaned. “She’s fucking hot is what she is.”

“My girl, Hyunjin.” Minho reminded him with a smirk.

“You’re giving me a show. Aren’t I supposed to be watching?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t watch.” Minho fucked into you again, and your moan was broken. “Just don’t try to touch.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Good.” Minho’s hands wrapped around your waist, and he began to fuck you in earnest, his speed picking up. All you could do was grab at his hands and moan, your hips bucking up to meet his.

“Can’t I just touch a little?” Hyunjin’s voice was playful. “Those tits look so nice in that dress.”

Minho stopped moving, looking at you. “Y/n, how do you feel about Hyunjin touching you?”

“Yes.” You said, wriggling in an effort to get Minho to start up again. “Yes, Hyunjin, please touch me.”

Minho smirked again. “Play with her nipples.”

Hyunjin sat behind you, moving your head into his lap, as he leaned over to push the strapless top of your dress down.

“Fuck.” You moaned, your whole body arching off the bed as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers and Minho began to thrust into you again.

“Pretty girl.” He said, his voice a warm contrast to the rough treatment he was giving your tits.

“Sharing might not be so bad, look at how sensitive and twitchy she is.” Minho’s voice was arrogant. You couldn’t see him at this point, your eyes were squeezed shut at all of the sensations washing over you.

“So much.” You breathed.

“Is it too much, baby?” Minho’s voice softened.

“No!” You said quickly. “No, keep going, please, both of you.”

Hyunjin pinched your nipples at the same time, and you let out a little cry. Minho drilled into your hole harder, pushing the air out of you with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm fast approaching.

As you hit the peak of your pleasure, Hyunjin’s ministrations slowed. “No, no, keep going!” You managed to get out through your moans.

“Okay.” He whispered, pinching you even harder. You practically screamed, arching off the bed as they continued to work your body.

You collapsed back down, but neither of them stopped. You felt overstimulated, every sensation so strong and intense, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to be a good girl and get Minho off. You laid there and let it all wash over you.

And soon enough he did cum, deep inside you, with a long groan. Hyunjin’s hands only slowed as Minho pulled out, cum spilling onto Hyunjin’s sheets.

“Ah, sorry.” Minho laughed, looking down.

“It’s okay, I can wash them.” Hyunjin smiled. “Thank you for letting me join, both of you.”

“You’re welcome to share me again, if you like.” You offered, pushing yourself up. You knew you looked thoroughly debauched, your hair messy, your makeup surely running, your top pushed down and your skirt pushed up.

“Fuck, you’re a vision, y/n.” Hyunjin breathed, and you looked down to see how hard he was.

“If… if Minho’s okay with it, you can use me, if you want.” You said.

Minho nodded. “As long as you make her feel good, too.”

Hyunjin swallowed, his eyes raking over you. “I want to make her feel so good.”

You whined.

“Then be my guest.” Minho moved from between your legs, and Hyunjin took his spot. Minho began to stroke your hair, kissing down your neck, as Hyunjin lined himself up.

 You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

[chaoticklesblog]

In my draft is a fic that I'll eventually get around to writing/posting. It's about Adam respawning in hell and transitioning from his angelic form to his demonic form. As a result, his wings begin to molt and Lucifer decides to "help" him in this very ticklish process. As always, prompts and asks are open. :) Feel free to request fics, hc's etc.