This song makes me want to make a smutty series/compilation of all my favorite fictional men who give me this energy. A mix of reader and OCs. Just let my creativity flow and write what feels good. Intrusive thoughts and all 🤪
Just look at the lyrics while you listen:
You fit
Better than a pair of jeans, baby
Fill me up better than a feast, baby (yeah)
Don't think I could ever let you leave, baby, yeah
You fit
Like your mama made you just for me, baby (yeah)
Stroke making me forget to breathe, baby
That face looking like a seat, baby
Yeah, yeah
Only been about a month but my body been on this is baby daddy, baby
'Cause I might let you do it, I might let you shoot it
'Cause she need some milk (yeah)
She need some real, real bad (real what?)
Real bad (real bad, yeah)
My ego get built up
'Cause I can get you bricked up
Like I'm buildin' a crib up with no effort
We can play house, no pressure
Call me mama, I'll call you papa (yeah)
We can pop off
We can pause if you need it
I get conceited when you say that she the best, say it again
She the best (say it again)
She the best (say it again)
She the best
And take me to bed (yeah)
'Cause you fit (yeah)
Better than a pair of jeans, baby (ooh-ooh)
Fill me up better than a feast, baby
Don't think I could ever let you leave, baby (yeah, yeah, oh)
You fit
Like your mama made you just for me, baby (mama made you just for me, baby)
That stroke making me forget to breathe, baby (breathe)
And that face looking like a seat, baby
Yeah, yeah
The atoms between us have melted away, and we're one tonight, yeah
When I see the white of your eyes, I know I, I'm doing it right, yeah
I love how you coach me when I'm close to the peak, yeah
And I feel you growing, my love, how you hold back for me
Yeah, I get conceited when you say that I'm the best, say it again
You the best (say it again)
You the best (say it again)
You the best
And take me to bed
You fit (baby)
Better than a pair of jeans, baby (better than a pair of jeans, baby)
Fill me up better than a feast, baby (better than a feast, baby)
Don't think I could ever let you leave, baby (don't think I could ever let you leave)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah)
And you fit (you fit, yeah, yeah)
Like your mama made you just for me, baby (just for me, baby)
That stroke making me forget to breathe, baby (ooh, ooh)
That face looking like my favorite seat
Just for me, baby
Yeah, yeah, yeah
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AU where Thingol, not Beren, dies fighting Carcharoth
The Hunting of the Wolf begins similar to canon. Carcharoth has eaten a Silmaril and is mad with pain, destroying the woods near Doriath.
As in canon, Carcharoth leaps from the bushes at Thingol.
Beren, fighting with his off hand, still bleeding from his right wrist, is just a moment too slow.
Beren swings his spear, and wounds Carcharoth, but not before the wolf has attacked the king.
There is a bite taken from Thingol's chest, and a savage scratch in his face. Even with the strength of an ancient elf, the light of Valinor, and the love of a Maia, it is too great a wound to survive.
Beren tries to staunch the blood, but it's too late.
Thingol says to Beren, "Love her, my son." The command is unnecessary, but Thingol dies thinking of his daughter and trusting her choices.
Melian screams, and every twig in Doriath shakes with her grief. She does not leave though, not while her daughter still lives and may need her.
Huan and Carcharoth fight, and die.
Mablung cuts open the wolf's belly and takes out the Silmaril. He places it on Thingol's breast.
No one in Doriath really wants to look at the Silmaril though. This is what tore apart the royal family, what their king died for, what brought the Wolf to ruin the forest.
There is talk of burying the Silmaril with Thingol's body, but Melian refuses to have it rest in her earth. The Silmaril is at once too cursed by Fate and too blessed by the Valar.
Melian can feel the Silmaril sing, and it would bring her in harmony with the first Music if she let it, until she was nothing but an instrument of Eru's first will. She would care only for the harmony of Arda and the good of all within it.
Melian is not willing to give up her passion and grief for her husband, or her love for her daughter, or her realm.
So the Silmaril is put to the side of the royal treasury for a few months, while a funeral and a wedding are planned.
Luthien is crowned Queen, with Beren king beside her. Melian is willing to stay and guard the realm as she has for centuries, but she is less able to hold her elven form without the one who inspired her to take it up, and in truth rarely cared for elven concerns.
Queen Luthien sends announcements of her coronation to the Falas and Nargothrond and Ethel Sirion.
(Maedhros begins recruiting for an attack on Angband. Murmurs in Doriath are that he is driven by shame, with the cowardice of his brothers compared to Luthien now known to all.)
Beren sends a letter to the people of Nargothrond, who have suffered as great a loss as the people of Doriath, with the loss of their king. He does not regret asking Finrod for help, but he grieves with them.
Privately, he tells Luthien that he wishes he had something of his own to offer, some token to remember Finrod, the bravest warrior in all elvendom.
Beren could give back the ring of Barahir, but he would just as soon keep it as his own memento, of promises kept and loyal friends.
Luthien has an idea.
It may be a terrible idea, but she is Queen, and all the treasures of Doriath are hers to with as she pleases. No one stops her.
In truth, no one argues that hard. Luthien and her husband are the ones who went on a dangerous quest, so the prize is theirs to do with as they will. Thingol might have standing to argue, but he's dead.
So Mablung, as the one who cut open the wolf's belly, is sent as emissary to King Orodreth, with a package he touches as little as possible.
Orodreth meets Mablung in a private room, after what a mess allowing an outsider to declare their business in the town square was last time.
(Not that Orodreth puts it that way, of course. But if Beren had mentioned the Ring and the Quest where none beside Finrod could hear, the Feanorians would not have learned until it was too late, and Finrod would have marched on Tol-in-Gaurhoth with a full army. He would have lived, Orodreth is sure of it.)
So there is none but Mablung to see how Orodreth's relaxes for a moment at the first moment of Treelight across his face, then nearly drops the Silmaril when he realizes what he is holding.
Orodreth cannot refuse the gift. It would be terribly insulting to Doriath, and all it would do would be move the looming bloodshed to his sister's home rather than his own.
Passing the Silmaril on would be an insult, even as tribute to King Fingon. And giving it to the sons of Feanor is as good as declaring himself open enemies with Doriath.
Orodreth asks Mablung to tell no one in the city what he has brought, to say only that Beren and Luthien grieve Finrod's death and sent a token. Mablung agrees easily enough, not being in the habit of gossip.
But much of Doriath knows, and though trade with the guarded realm is scarce, it is present. The secret may last for weeks or months, but in a year or two everyone will know that Nargothrond houses a Silmaril.
Including the sons of Feanor.
Orodreth locks the Silmaril in the most secure vault, to which only he has key, and thinks.
After a few days, he summons Celebrimbor before the court.
Orodreth declares Celebrimbor the Steward of the Vaults, responsible not for the daily spending of the kingdom, but for the safety and upkeep of the gems and elaborate ornaments that belong to the king.
Orodreth made the position up just now, but he gives it real responsibility. He doesn't wear the Nauglamir as his brother did, but neither does he want it stolen, and it needs the links oiled and the gems polished.
Celebrimbor is a jewelsmith, and a perfectly reasonable choice for the role.
And in the private audience afterwards, Orodreth emphasizes that Celebrimbor has authority over the vaults second only to his own. If Celebrimbor wishes a piece repaired, or a gem reset, he needs consult no other, even if it's a piece made by Feanor himself and brought from Valinor.
And speaking of things made by Feanor...
Celebrimbor is a bit insulted that he was given the role more due to the family he denounced than due to his skill. But he is not so insulted as to refuse the title, or the chance to closely examine so many masterpieces of jewelcraft.
Neither Celebrimbor or Orodreth are sure if this counts as hiding and hoarding a Silmaril, but it's now under the care of Feanor's kin so the Oath should be satisfied.
Right?
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