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santacoppelia · 8 months

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Putting the Meta in "Metatron"

(couldn't resist the pun, sorry)

Ok, this has been tickling my brain for a while. I've been thinking about how The Metatron designed his role and discourse specifically to manipulate Aziraphale into the end result we saw in the last minutes of S2. I become obsessed with it because… well, I'm a bit obsessive, but also because there were many really smart writing decisions that I loved (even when I despise The Metatron exactly for the same reasons. Hate the character, love the writer). If you haven't watched Good Omens Season 2, this is the moment to stop reading. Come back later!

We already know that in Book Omens, the role of Gabriel in the ending was occupied by The Metatron. Of course, the series introduced us to Gabriel and we won a lot by that, but I feel that the origins of The Metatron should be considered for any of this. He is not a "sweet old man": he was the one in charge of seeing over the operation of Armageddon; not just a stickler of rules, but the main promoter for it.

However, when he appears in the series finale, we first are primed to almost pass him by. He is in the line for buying coffee, using clothes that are:

obviously not tailored (almost ill fitted)

in dark tones

looking worn and wrinkled

This seems so important to me! All the angels we have seen are so proud of their aspect, wear clear (white or off white) clothes, pressed, impeccable (even Muriel), even when they visit the Earth (which we have already seen on S1 with all the visits to the bookshop). The Metatron chose a worn, comfortable attire, instead. This is a humanized look, something that fools all the angels but which would warm up someone very specific, can you guess?

After making quite a complicated coffee order (with sort of an affable and nervous energy), he makes a question that Crowley had already primed for us when asking Nina about the name of the coffee: having a "predictable" alternative and an unpredictable one.

This creates an interesting parallel with the next scene: Michael is discussing the possibility of erasing Aziraphale from The Book of Life (a punishment even worse than Holy Water on demons, because not having existed at all, EVER is definitely worse than having existed and ceased to exist at some point) when The Metatron arrives, interrupts the moment and signals having brought coffee. Yup, an amicable gesture, but also a "not death" offering that he shows clearly to everyone (even when Michael or Uriel do not understand or care for it. It wasn't meant for them). He even dismisses what Michael was saying as "utter balderdash" and a "complete piffle", which are the kind of outdated terms we have heard Aziraphale use commonly. So, The Metatron has put up this show for a specific audience of one.

The next moment on the script has Metatron asking Crowley for the clarification of his identity. Up to this moment, every angel has been ignoring the sprawled demon in the corner while discussing how to punish Aziraphale… But The Metatron defers to the most unlikely person in the room, and the only one who will push any buttons on Aziraphale: Crowley. After that, Aziraphale can recognize him, and Metatron dismisses the "bad angels" (using Aziraphale's S1 epithet) with another "catchy old phrase", "spit spot", while keeping Muriel at the back and implying that there is a possibility to "check after" if those "bad angels" have done anything wrong.

Up to this moment, he has played it perfectly. The only moment when he loses it is when he calls Muriel "the dim one", which she ignores… probably because that's the usual way they get talked to in Heaven. I'm not sure if Aziraphale or Crowley cared for that small interaction, but it is there for us (the audience) to notice it: the sympathy the character might elicit is built and sought, but he is not that nice.

After that, comes "the chinwag" and the offer of the coffee: the unnecessarily complicated order. It is not Aziraphale's cup of tea (literally), but it is so specific that it creates some semblance of being thought with care, and has a "hefty jigger" of syrup (again with the funny old words). And, as Aziraphale recognizes, it is "very nice!" (as The Metatron "jolly hoped so"), and The Metatron approves of him drinking it by admitting he has "ingested things in my time, you know?". This interaction is absolutely designed to build a bridge of understanding. The Metatron probably knew that the first response he would get was a "no", so he tailored his connection specifically to "mirror" Aziraphale: love of tasty human treats he has also consumed, funny old words like the ones he loves, a very human, worn, well-loved look. That was the bait for "the stroll": the moment when Aziraphale and Crowley get separated, because The Metatron knew that being close to Crowley, Aziraphale would have an hypervigilant soundboard to check the sense of what he was going to get offered. That's what the nasty look The Metatron gives to Crowley while leaving the bookshop builds (and it gets pinpointed by the music, if you were about to miss it).

The next thing we listen from The Metatron is "You don't have to answer immediately, take all the time you need" in such a friendly manner… we can see Aziraphale doubting a little, and then comes the suggestion: "go and tell your friend the good news!". This sounds like encouragement, but is "the reel". He already knows how Crowley would react, and is expecting it (we can infer it by his final reaction after going back for Aziraphale after the break up, but let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we?). He even can work up Muriel to take care of the bookshop while waiting for the catch.

What did he planted in Aziraphale's mind? Well, let's listen to the story he has to tell:

"I don't think he's as bad a fellow… I might have misjudged him!" — not strange in Aziraphale to have such a generous spirit while judging people. He's in a… partnership? relationship? somethingship? with a demon! So maybe first impressions aren't that reliable anyway. The Metatron made an excellent job with this, too.

"Michael was not the obvious candidate, it was me!" — This idea is interesting. Michael has been the stickler, the rule follower, even the snitch. They have been rewarded and recognized by that. Putting Aziraphale before Michael in the line of succession is a way of recognizing not only him, but his system of values, which has always been at odds with the main archangels (even when it was never an open fight).

"Leader, honest, don't tell people what they want to hear" — All these are generic compliments. The Metatron hasn't been that aware of Aziraphale, but are in line with what would have been said of any "rebel leader". They come into context with the next phrase.

"That's why Gabriel came to you, I imagine…" — I'm pretty sure The Metatron didn't imagine this, ha. He is probably imagining that the "institutional problem" is coalescing behind his back, and trying to keep friends close, but enemies closer… while dividing and conquering. If Gabriel rebelled, and then went searching for Aziraphale (and Crowley, they are and item and he knows it), that might mean a true risk for his status quo and future plans.

Heaven has great plans and important projects for you — this is to sweeten the pot: the hefty jigger of almond syrup. You will be able to make changes! You can make a difference from the inside! Working for an old man who feels strangely familiar! And who recognizes your point of view! That sounds like the best job offer of the world, really.

Those, however, are not the main messages (they are still building good will with Aziraphale); they are thought out to build the last, and more important one:

Heaven is well aware of your "de facto partnership" with Crowley…

It would be considered irregular if you wanted to work with him again…

You, and you alone, can bring him to Heaven and restore his full angelic status, so you could keep working together (in very important projects).

Here is the catch. He brought the coffee so he could "offer him coffee", but the implications are quite clear: if you want to continue having a partnership with Crowley, you two must come to Heaven. Anything else would be considered irregular, put them in a worst risk, and maybe, just maybe, make them "institutional enemies". Heaven is more efficient chasing enemies, and they have The Book of Life as a menace.

We already know how scared Aziraphale has always been about upsetting Heaven, but he has learned to "disconnect" from it through the usual "they don't notice". The Metatron came to tell him "I did notice, and it has come back to bite you". The implied counterpart to the offer is "you can always get death". Or even worse, nonexistence (we have already imagined the angst of having one of them condemned to that fate, haven't we?)

When The Metatron arrives, just after seeing Crowley leave the bookshop, distraught, he casually asks "How did he take it?", but he already knows. That was his plan all along: making them break up with an offer Aziraphale could not refuse, but Crowley could not accept. That's why he even takes the license to slightly badmouth Crowley: "Always did want to go his own way, always asking damn fool questions, too". He also arrive with the solution to the only objection Aziraphale would have: Muriel, the happy innocent angel that he received with so much warmth and kindness, is given the opportunity to stay on Earth, taking care of the bookshop. The only thing he would have liked to take with him is not a thing, and has become impossible.

If God is playing poker in a dark room and always smiling, The Metatron is playing chess, and he is quite good at it (that's why he loves everything to be predictable). He is menacing our pieces, and broke our hearts in the process… But I'm pretty sure he is underestimating his opponents. His awful remark of Muriel being "dim"; saying that Crowley "asks damn fool questions", and even believing that Aziraphale is just a softie that can be played like a pipe… That's why telling him the project is "The Second Coming" was an absolute gift for us as an audience, and it prefigures the downfall that is coming — the one Aziraphale, now with nothing to lose, started cooking in his head during that elevator ride (those couple of minutes that Michael Sheen gifted to all of us: the shock, the pain, the fury, and that grin in the end, with the eyes in a completely different emotion). Remember that Aziraphale is intelligent, but also fierce. Guildernstern commited a similar mistake in Hamlet, and it didn't go well:

"Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass, and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me."

I'm so excited to learn how this is going to unfold!! Because our heroes have always been very enthusiastic at creating plans together, failed miserably at executing them, and even then succeeding… But now they are apart, more frustrated and the stakes are even higher. Excellent scenario for a third act!

*exits, pursued by a bear*

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens spoilers #aziraphale #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #narrative analysis #character analysis #the metatron #and a casual Hamlet quote #just because I love Hamlet

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tteokdoroki · 6 months

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aali my beloved would you be willing to share some more thots regarding domineering consent-king-kiri,,,no pressure at all I am just delighted by the concept!! If nothing else I am holding your hand making microwave noises because this tickles my brain muah

☆༉ — EIJIROU KIRISHIMA. consent and condescension.

about. your wish is my command beautiful anon. this is definitely yuzuya adjacent LDKAKS !!

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. smut, praise kink, consent heavy, condescension, scratching, afab!reader, soft dom/pro hero!kirishima.

“i only want to do this if it’s something you want.” kirishima says, his voice so quiet that it’s barely above a whisper. there’s a huskiness to it, as though he’s been holding back for so long that his tether and tie to sanity threatens to snap. the very simple fact makes a shiver run down your spine and shoot right between your legs.

kirishima let’s put a condescending coo as he shifts to sit with you on the bed, prying apart your shaky thighs to catch a whiff of your hot cunt, a view of how juices run between your folds like golden syrup that makes you shine. you’re eijirou kirishima’s favourite sweet treat.

“poor baby, if i hadn’t come any sooner, who knows what would have happened to you.” his voice drips to lower tones that turn on the sex signals in your brain — and as you whine out for more, the corner of the red head’s lips quirk up into a sly smile.

“all alone and unable to cum. well, don’t you worry. i’ve got you now.” you see, he knows you better than you know yourself. that you can’t get off without his thick fingers or his fat cock, and how frustrated you get when you can’t touch yourself in the same way that he does.

that’s why you called him at work, with a wobble in your saccharine voice and squelch from your cunt echoing down the line. you need eijirou.

you hardly notice how fast he strips, too dizzy and needy to speak your mind or even think. your level of desire to be fucked dumb by your man overpowers any logical reasoning you may have. taking hold of the globes of your ass, the mountainous man drags you towards him, pressing right up against your throbbing mound — looking down at you as if you’re the most beautiful, pathetic thing he’s ever seen.

you’ve not a clue as to how much you affect eijirou, with your big wet eyes and shaky hips as you rut into him for any kind of friction. he wants to ruin you and cherish you all at once, fighting with the two halves of him that join together and make him the person that he is. the hero that protects people, the man who loves you, the other that has such depraved thoughts about you. his sweet little thing.

“i’ve been dying to take you since the moment you called, fuck you against your cute little sheets, have your adorable ankles and frilly socks hangin’ over my shoulders….” eijirou’s next move is to tease your wet little slit, tapping his milky cockhead against your swollen clit repeatedly until you’re jolting and twitching from the slight streams of pleasure. “is it okay for me to touch you like this? i really want to but… your needs always come first to me.”

the question is masked with a patronising kindness in an attempt to hide the red head’s deepest and darkest dreams. if he truly wanted to, kirishima could have plugged your hole full of his monster-like girth and fucked you until that tight, unused hole of yours was coated in his cum. yet, he treats you (the object of his affections and desires), as though you’re a porcelain doll threatening to shatter under the weight of his touch.

the cracks begin to show and the dam begins to break. your pretty face crumples with ecstasy while eijirou pushes his length through your slick pussy, laughing breathily at your arousal that clings to every spiralling blue vein that decorated his shaft. it jumps against the pleasure bud tucked away between your folds.

you sniffle and his heart breaks for you. it does nothing to calm the flames of desire burning at eijirou’s healthy lungs — blackening them.

“e-eiji—!”

“‘m gonna put it in now, i know, i know, sweetheart. i gotta hurry it up,” he starts, tutting down at you and your clenching cunt as he hits his hips forward — pushing his bulbous tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance. “you’ve been so good, sweetheart. waiting for me to get home, so you could get fucked — i just don’t wanna hurt you.”

he brushes the pads of his thumbs over your body trembling beneath him. over your pebbling nipples, so hard they could cut diamonds because of the cold air. over your curves, your tummy and navel — every perfectly imperfect part of you. and when he reaches your thighs, they’re folded into your chest so he can give you exactly what you want.

“oh, little one. you’re so tight, and warm around me. fuck.” eijirou is the one who hiccups this time, gripping the sheets above your head while your warm, ribbed walls grip his cock the further he pushes into you. “so soft too, i can’t get enough of you. got me thinkin’ about you all the time.”

he starts thrusting then, forceful but fluid like a rushing river of ecstasy. eijirou pins you to the bed below, giving you no room to wiggle away and the only option being to take everything that he gives to you. his balls clapping against the curve of your ass, his harsh moans in your ear and tip bullying your g-spot before you can even register the sensation blooming in your lower tummy. there’s no room to breathe or think while he fucks you. like he hates you, all while loving you.

“i love your pretty face. how it looks when you take me. the way your brows furrow and your soft lips part when you moan for me. can you take it? just a little more for me.” the surge of praise you receive from eijirou is like a storm that angrily hits the shore. you feel like you’re drowning, clawing at his back to drag yourself to shore while he pounds you to the high heavens. your body jolts up the bed at every one of eijrou’s thrusts — contrasting with the gentle, wet kisses he peppers across your face.

each sweet word dipped in white sugar has you pliant and mailable under kirishima like freshly made candy. he praises you and your hips rise from the arousal soaked sheets to match his rhythm, sex spasming around him. “holy fucking shit. oh little one…so sweet and wet, hm? so pliant.” eijirou leans over you, shielding you from the world, and liick at your neck, humming in satisfaction at your whistle tone moans. “you were just aching for me to get you like this, right little one? your knees pressed to your chest and my cock…nice and snug against your insides. you don’t wanna let me go, do you?”

you promptly shake your head, your pretty bambi eyes fluttering shut while your body thrashes and shakes from the pleasure he feeds you — piece by piece.. “e-eiji…p-please, i need it. i c-can’t—!”

the red head squishes your cheeks together, grunting impatiently and pressing on until his cock is pressing comfortably against your womb. “oh you poor baby, i need to give it to you just as bad as you want it… but,” the rough pads of his fingers sink into your supple cheeks as he turns your face to look at him. “i need you to look at me first. look me in the eye, sweetheart. show me how badly you want it. you’re so pretty when you do it like that, you know.”

a wet whimper bubbles up on your lips, cherry bitten from where they’ve been caught between your teeth. they echo between your sweet slicked bodies and mingle with the saccharine syllables of kirishima’s words, as condescending as they might be. that with his domineering presence and constant stimulation of all your pleasure spots has you a ruined mess beneath him.

“i’m gonna make you cum. i have to make you cum, if it’s the last thing i do, little one.” eijirou promised lazily, circling his hips in a slow grind just he can drag out your pleasure for a little bit longer — torture you underneath him so he can keep on seeing your pretty face. he seals the promise with a sloppy kiss, sucking on your saliva soaked tongue until you’re begging him for air. “you want that too, right?”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima x you #bnha smut #bnha thirst #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima smut #eijirou kirishima x you #kirishima eijirou smut #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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shsy7573 · 3 months

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Random Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) Character/Song Analysis Kinda Thing… I Guess

Okay, so yeah, Luci has 100% taken over this page. So what? I’m not obsessed, you are.

Anyway, I’ve been listening to “More Than Anything” on repeat since it dropped, and like a lot of the fandom I tear up every single time… but unlike a lot of the fandom, it’s not because of the sweet father-daughter moment (which, don’t get me wrong, doesn’t help the situation because it’s just so damn wholesome).

No, what gets me is how, just through a couple subtle moments, the show is able to convey just how absolutely shattered Luci is as a character. And, you know, because he’s my favourite, bestest, snek-baby-duck-boy, it makes me a little emotional…

So now you’re all gonna hear about what goes through my mind every time I listen to it. YAY!

“Charlie! You don’t understand, Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me. They won’t listen to you!” / “You don’t know that—” / “I do!”

It starts before the song even truly begins. When I’m listening, it’s usually these first few lines that grab my attention. I end up replaying the first 4-5 seconds of the song over and over again because the pain in that “I do” is so fucking good! (And because I like to suffer apparently cuz I end up sad. Life of an angst lover I guess).

It’s the first time we see him with actual tears in his eyes. The raw delivery of that line is so attention grabbing, and manages to say so much in such little words.

I think the reason this particular scene tickles my brain so much is because it’s the breaking point for his character in a way. I am, and always will be, a sucker for moments where a character’s walls finally come down, and we get to see what’s been festering inside. When their deepest thoughts and how much they’re hurting are revealed. The entire song is what that is for Lucifer, starting with these two words right here. I truly cannot put into words just how much my breath is taken away by Jeremy’s delivery of this line. I cannot articulate how much I love it, and how important it is for Luci’s character. it just hits so deep and so right for me and I love it.

Lucifer isn’t just saying that he knows Heaven isn’t going to care about her plan (I don’t think anyone thought that’s all he was saying but whatever). He is saying that he knows what Heaven does to dreamers. He knows what they’ll do because he has already been there, and it destroyed him. They took his ideas that they saw as too outlandish, and they squashed them. Cast him aside. And he paid the price for it when he went bashing their back and did his own thing anyway.

Luci is a broken dreamer. Throughout the entire episode, and the series as a while, we are given very strong hints of this. However, it’s not until this song that we really see it in action. It’s not until these moments that we are able to see past both the veils of “Imposing King of Hell” and “Goofy Guy who’s trying his best but not great at Dadding,” and get a look at how genuinely depressed this man is.

“My dreams were too hard to defend.”

This scene eight here. The more I see it, the more I fall in love with it. Just a great example of ‘show don’t tell.’

He’s talking about having big ideas, he’s talking about giving people a chance and reaching outside the normal, he’s talking about being cast out of Heaven. I just love the parallel he’s drawing between Charlie’s mission, and his own past.

Charlie created the hotel in an attempt to give people who have been seen as lesser to all of Heaven some sort of chance. She is choosing to have faith in them, and to open up opportunities for them to lead a better life.

Lucifer, when he gave Eve the fruit, was taking a chance to allow humanity the chance to have free will. He wanted them to experience everything life had to offer for themselves like angels got to. He offered a chance for them to lead a better life.

He had everything, and he had complete faith that what he was doing was right. All the light and hope of his dreams was right in the palm of his hand. He had so many ideas that he thought, if they were saw through, would make the world a better place.

But it didn’t work out for him.

“And in the end, I won’t lose it all again.”

Now, the first seconds of dialogue may be what I keep rewatching, but this has got to be my favourite visual of the entire song. It’s such powerful imagery, and I fangirl over it every time.

Look at how small he looks in that shot (I know, I know, he’s tiny regardless, but like seriously). He is completely outnumbered, hopelessly overpowered, totally at the mercy of all his Heavenly superiors… and he’s all alone.

He lost everything because he had the gall to dream. It’s not hard to look at the song (and the episode at large, really) and find not only his feelings of being wronged, but also his immense guilt. It shows in how much he hates Sinners. They are basically the worst of what he did, a constant reminder of the day his mistake caused him to lose his home and everything he held dear, and they are all he gets to see. Only being permitted to see your failures for all eternity? No wonder he’s fucking depressed.

The day Heaven cast him out was the day he stopped dreaming. Because dreaming big only leads to pain, failure, and suffering.

“I just don’t want you to be crushed by them like… like I was.”

This next moment is kinda self explanatory and obvious and really doesn’t need any commentary, but I’m gonna talk about it anyway. Because I love it, and I love him, and… you know… angst. I’ve mentioned my lust for it several times now throughout this post, you really shouldn’t be surprised.

I just feel so bad for him. Lucifer made one mistake. One simple, misguided mistake that ended up introducing evil into the world, and all of Heaven came down on him for it. And, you know what, in the narrative presented by the show, what he did wasn’t that bad. He just wanted to give the world’s newest creations the same freedom angels had, and it backfired horribly. Lucifer, like Charlie, was an idealist who saw the best in people and wanted to help.

And what did he get for his good intentions? Shoved into the cesspool he unintentionally created, and forbidden to ever see anything good that came from his dream.

If I had to guess, Lilith was the only thing keeping his mental health afloat for a long time… and then they had Charlie.

“The tales about your lofty dreams. I’d listen breathlessly, imaging it could be me.”

His daughter became the light of his life. Something that he cherished and indulged more than anything else in the world. To him, she was perfect, and he wanted to do right by her in any way he could.

Lilith told their daughter stories of all her father’s dreams regardless of what he thought of them, and when the little princess came asking him… how could he refuse? How could he refuse her anything?

So he shared them with her. All the tales of grandeur, and fantasies of everything he wished the world could have been. All the dreams he had long since let go.

“And in the end, it’s the view I had of you that show me dreams can be worth fighting for.”

Now, the scene where Lily take’s Charlie away has always been excellent brain fodder for me because of how somewhat ambiguous it is. You could interpret his sadness to have SO MANY meanings. However, I have inevitably decided on two potential head-cannons/theories to share here for what could possibly be going through Snek-King’s head.

One: Lucifer loves his daughter, but he feels estranged and like he’s failed her in some way. She’s such a joy, such a wonder, and in a way it's his fault she’s trapped down here with all of human ties worst. He wasn’t to be close to her, and to make the world perfect for her… but he already feels like he’s failed her in the most unforgivable way. He keeps his distance because part of him doesn’t want her to have a super high of an opinion of him. It’s kind of his depression manifesting, saying that ‘she shouldn’t admire you and your stupid dreams when they’re the reason she’ll never see true light and happiness.’

The angst addict in me likes this one more, but still I’ve got another one that always pops.

Two: He feels like he’s selling her false hope, and he can kind of see the place her innocence is headed. He’s seen the horrors of the world, and he knows the more he indulges her dreams and fantasies, the more she’ll suffer when she sees that’s not what the world is like. He knows from personal experience how much it hurts when your dreams come undone, when you lose hope in the world.

Listening to Charlie’s actual lyrics, she tells him that he was the one who inspired her to dream, that he was right to dream, and that she’s not going to back down. In the song, Luci realises that 1: maybe he didn’t fuck us as badly as he thought and that she actually doesn’t blame him and wants her in his life and/or 2: she has her mother’s willpower, and she’s never going to stop dreaming or let her world be sullied like he did. She’s so much stronger than he was.

So he lets her in.

(Side note… AWWW, look how TINNYY he is! He’s so small. The start contrast in the second image gets me every time)

There’s a bit of symbolism in the song which I ABSOLUTELY adore, and it has to do with the wings. In the flashback, Charlie mentions his “lofty dreams,” when we see the duck, which later transforms to have multiple sets of wings. Later in the song, when Lucifer finally lets her in, he also sprouts those wings.

And I just love this, because I think it acts as the perfect symbolism of him finally opening his mind again. Not just to his daughter, but to the possibility of dreaming in general.

He takes her to a circus, a place filled to the brim with spectacles and thrills, a place where humanities wildest imaginations seem possible.

But even though he’s beginning to open up, and he’s willing to help her in whatever she does, he’s not ‘fixed.’ His depression and self doubt and feelings of hollow emptiness and guilt and apprehension aren’t gone.

And he’s still terrified of seeing her spark go out like his did.

This tiny smile break is so addicting to watch for me. It speaks volumes. Once again, my angst loving heart eats it up every time. It says, “I’m still worried, and there is still so much shit going on in my mind right now about all of this, but I’m here for you.”

And that’s what counts.

Luci’s character showed a lot of colours, and came a long way in this singular episode, but he’s still got a big uphill battle to climb. He still has to come back into his own where dreams are concerned. Maybe he never will, not completely. Realistically, he’ll never go back to the way he was.

But maybe, just maybe, in helping his daughter he’ll find something worth believing in again.

That is, of course, if they decide to give him a character arc beside ‘Dad who is trying and doing better,’ but for that only time will tell.

—

And THAT concludes my rant on the Rubber Ducky Ruler. If you stuck around this long, good for you! I wrote this whole thing on a limb at midnight, and NO I’m not going to go back and edit it because why would I ever want to see all the horrid grammatical and spelling errors I’ve inevitably made.

Maybe I’m off the mark on all of this. Maybe I’m head-cannoning too much. Maybe I’m just trying to suck out every hint of potential angst out of a song that’s supposed to be sweet and wholesome. That’s for you to decide. But for me, I’ve decided that I’m satisfied with this analysis. In the end, I just needed to express all the thoughts bumbling around in my head SOMEWHERE before I exploded, and unfortunately, I feel like I’ve run all my friends dry talking about this baby to them, so now it’s your turn. But, anyways, I think that about wraps things up. It’s time to go to bed.

Farewell, stay hydrated, and have a lovely rest of your day/night :)

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #character analysis #kind of #bless my angst loving heart #I just had to talk about him

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thebabblingbrookenook · 1 year

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Hand Painted

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Modern AU - It’s Opening Night and your stage makeup has to be just right. You are left in the very capable hands of Benedict Bridgerton.

Warnings: PG-13 lol. We get some light groping and definite sexual tension.

Word Count: 1.2k

Author’s Note: This was a birthday wish fulfillment for a lovely Tumblr mutual with an appreciation for Benedict’s hands. I’m with you girl! Those mitts could paw at me any day. Happy birthday @queen-of-the-misfit-toys , I hope you enjoy 💕

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"Hold still," Benedict scolded for the third time. "I'll never get this done with you wiggling like that."

"Sorry, Ben. It tickles." You squirmed again as the bristles from his brush glided across the skin on your side.

"Just hang in there a bit longer. These markings need to be perfect. I want to make sure the details translate on stage." He scrunched his nose in concentration, willing the brush in his hand to do his bidding.

Sometimes you forgot that the stakes of this production were just as high for his career as they were for yours. If the showcase went well, there was a chance to establish a real foothold in the world of professional theatre.

You steadied yourself, determined to stay as still as possible for him. You refused to be the reason his talent wasn’t properly seen. He had too much to offer the world to remain hidden. You would use your naked body as a flashing billboard to display his unique and breathtaking skills.

He looked up to meet your gaze from where he rested on his knees in front of you. “Sorry, I know this is taking forever.”

“No rush. Take your time. I don’t mind.” He had no idea just how thoroughly you didn’t mind. There was many a night where you imagined him on his knees in front of you. This would provide you a vivid mental image for later.

“Are you ready to take your bra off,” he asked, completely unaware of the impact those words had on your brain.

“What,” you gulped. You needed him to confirm that you hadn’t just been revisiting a favorite daydream that he regularly starred in.

“Your bra,” he stated. “I need to paint your breasts.”

“Oh,” you gulped. “Right, obviously. Is it safe to bend my arms yet, or will it mess up your work?”

“Hmm,” he mused. “Better not to risk it. I’ll do it.”

This had to be a figment of your imagination. Reality was never this good to you.

Very gently, and with enough skill that confirmed this wasn’t his first time removing ladies delicates, his fingers unhooked the clasp at your back and slowly inched the straps from your shoulders to slide them down your arms without touching your skin.

“There they are,” his eyes widened in terror. “I mean, there we are! As in… you’re all set. Oh, god… Forgive me. I swear I’m not a pervert.”

Your responding giggle was so infectious it even had him cracking a smile. “It’s okay Ben. They are, in fact, there. I think I would have been more offended if you didn’t notice.”

His cheeks were flushed with the most alluring shade of pink you had ever seen. Sometimes he was inexcusably adorable. It didn’t seem like the laws of nature would allow for this much perfection to exist. He was an anomaly.

Eager to escape his embarrassment, he dipped his brush back into the paint without another word. You watched in awe as he mixed the paints to create the perfect hues of color. He went somewhere else when he was creating. The world around him paused, leaving nothing else to exist but himself and the canvas he worked with. Today, that canvas just happened to be you.

If you weren’t painfully aware of how close he was to touching your body with his own, you might have found this relaxing. But relaxed was the last adjective you would have used to describe yourself as you watched his tongue rub against the corner of his mouth.

His eyes were burning with concentration as he studied the lines of your body. You tried not to take it to heart when he huffed in frustration. “This fucking brush is pointless. I’d do better to just use my hands.”

Your core clenched at the thought of it. “Why don’t you?”

He took in the details of your face for any signs of a joke. “That wouldn’t make you uncomfortable?”

It would, but not in the way he worried. “Nope. Be my guest.”

A spark of excitement lit the blues of his eyes. “Really?”

“Mmhmm,” you consented.

That was all the reassurance he needed. His long, elegant fingers dipped into the deep crimson shade on his palate before he brushed them along the heated skin above your left breast. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat running rampant at his touch.

Tingles spread across your chest in his wake, the sensation so overwhelming that you almost shivered. His hands traveled with precision, etching beautiful intricacies along your collarbone.

Cleaning his sullied hands, he scooped a generous handful of a different color. "I'm going to use this color as a base to add shadowing. Contour you a bit."

Even through the cold, wet paint, you could feel the warmth of his fingertips saturating your ribs with color. Inch by inch, he made his way up to the curve of your full chest. You fit perfectly in his hold as he cupped you. Kneading and caressing, he sculpted your body as if you were unshaped clay that simply needed a little coaxing to take your true form. When he was satisfied with his work, he mirrored his actions on the other side of your body.

Need was burning through you now. Everything about him to his very essence was sensual. The way he moved. The way he smelled. Even the way he breathed was a Siren's song. But the most intoxicating part of all was that he had no fucking clue. He wasn’t even trying. You could only imagine what his touch would be like when provoked by desire of his own. You doubted you'd survive it.

When your entire chest was properly coated to his liking, he brought his thumb to the hollow of your throat and drug it down the center of your body, between your breasts, over your sternum, further and further until he reached the top of your underwear.

You knew the way you panted was indecent, but there was no controlling your ravenous flesh. When he knelt before you again and lightly blew his breath across the skin below your bellybutton you couldn't stop the tiny whimper that escaped you.

When you met his gaze, his pupils were blown wide at the sound of you. "This spot is still a little wet," he blew again. "Better to not tempt fate."

As if he hadn't just doused you in gasoline and threw a match onto your libido, he stood back to his full height, towering over your small frame. "You look perfect. There's nothing more to be done. You might be my masterpiece."

His lazy, lopsided grin was going to kill you one day. You did your best to gather your composure before speaking, but your voice still held an almost post-orgasmic timber. "I'll wear you proudly tonight."

"Good luck," he whispered before brushing his lips over your cheek.

As you walked away from him, drunk with lust, all you could think about were his hands on you. It's a good thing this play didn't require him to paint between your thighs. You would have ruined all his hard work….

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Tags : @faye-tale @eleanor-bradstreet @queenofmean14 @angels17324 @musicismyoxygen84 @bridgertontess @heeyyyou

#Benedict Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton Fanfiction #Benedict Bridgerton and Reader #Benedict Bridgerton and You #Benedict Bridgerton x Reader #Benedict Bridgerton x You #Bridgerton Fanfiction

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luveline · 1 year

Note

for kisses before dinner.

What does a argument look like between mom!reader and Steve? Do they tell the kids or just try to keep it secret? 💋

I think Steve's trying so hard to not be like his dad that he would absolutely want to hide everything from the kids and of course you do too! I find it difficult to think of reasons why people argue in fan fic, I'm obviously not suggesting people in love don't argue of course they do, but at the same time in my head I enjoy living in the fantasy where love conquers all etc hahaha.

I've made it so they thought long and hard about money before having each baby, but maybe they get some bounced cheques or something, cause money is such a stressor on parents! but then it's like they'd be mad at each other for something neither has control over, and so they'd be sorry and kiss and make up pretty quickly I hope.

or Steve getting mad cause r isn't pulling her weight when she gets home from work BUT THEN I'm like, surely, if you love someone, you always try to pull your weight? but sloth prevails so that could be one. Steve's such a sweetheart in all those fics cause he's got that mother of my children worship motif going on, he'd probably be like :( what's wrong :( are you sick :( lol. in reality he'd be like fucking help me with our brethren they're aching my brain (said with love).

Steve would definitely use the kids in arguments sometimes, purely superficial arguments, like he wants to get McDonald's for dinner so he's like "sorry Avery mom doesn't love u that's why u can't have a happy meal tonight" or the kids want a puppy and you don't want Steve to suffer the extra responsibility but he's silly and wants them to have whatever they want so he's constantly egging the girls on, coaching them on their doe eyes and feeding them heartstring pulling lines

all fights can be resolved with wrestling. I could pin that boy I know I could. and you force the kids to help you — you hold him down, they tickle, another win for the Harrington girls

#jade's asks #ily #kisses before dinner universe

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writingwitharlo · 2 years

Text

In Your Hands

a/n: pls spam me with comments and thoughts, i need reassurance! inspired by part of a prompt I got and kinda ran with it. I don't think it's perfect, I tend to be more descriptive than anything and my writing does not feel very strong but it's still a story I very much enjoyed prompt: (...)Then Charlie asks Nick if he’s ticklish, and nick says it’s been such a long time he’s not even sure! (...)

Summary: Charlie wants to know if Nick is ticklish but Nick doesn't really know, so they find out together.

(Heartstopper; Nick/Charlie)

3525 words

"Char, you know I can't."

"What?! Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do-"

"Then say it."

"-just not more than my dogs."

"Wrong answer."

Laughter and dramatic cries overlapped each other as the two boys wrestled across the bed, pillows thwapping and grunts of strain intermingling with the giddiness of their playful fight.

A hand darted forward, ambitiously aimed at the older boy's hip- but froze. Charlie's fingertips barely grazed the fabric of Nick's hoody. There was a noticeable pause.

Using the moment's hesitation, Nick vaulted forward. A pillow collided with Charlie's chest, throwing him off balance, quickly followed by the weight of his excitable rugby boyfriend. There was a light-hearted groan as he fell to his back, shaking his head at Nick's face beaming down at him.

"Hah!" Nick exclaimed, clearly counting this defeat as a victory over the argument. Not wanting to crush his boyfriend completely, he graciously rolled off Charlie and flopped down beside him, gazing up at the ceiling as they both caught their breaths.

Charlie hugged the pillow to his chest, chewing on his lip thoughtfully as his fingers subconsciously flexed and retracted against the soft fabric. He must have gotten too lost in his own thoughts, caught somewhat off-guard when Nick nudged him with his elbow.

"Hm?"

Nick's previous grin was now replaced by a furrowed brow of concern, having picked up on Charlie's sudden change. "Where'd you go?"

A smile quickly returned to Charlie's face as he shook his head. "Oh, it's nothing- Nowhere. It's fine."

But Nick was wearing that look, all worried and unconvinced but ready to let it slide if Charlie truly didn't want to talk about it.

Charlie sighed. "I mean, it's-" He sat up, the pillow falling to his lap where he continued to fumble with it absentmindedly. Anything to not look at that face right now. "I was just-... thinking..." Feeling those watchful brown eyes on him certainly didn't help and then Nick propped himself onto his elbow.

Charlie thought for another moment, then shook his head with an airy laugh and met Nick's questioning eyes. "It's- I don't even know if-" He couldn't help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of his own brain. "Are you ticklish?"

"Oh, um..." Nick shifted a bit, although not in discomfort but rather simply to prop himself up a little straighter as he considered the answer. "I'm not sure."

Charlie's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "Really? No one's ever tried to tickle you?" Maybe that was a silly thing to ask, seeing that neither had he, for some reason. But his fingers suddenly itched to find out the answers all on their own, yet he held back, not wanting to cross any potential lines.

Nick gave a small shrug and brought his hand up to sheepishly run through his hair. "Not really... I mean, mum has, I guess, but only ever for like a second, so I don't think that actually counts." Nick's nose scrunched up a little as he thought. "And David did when I was, like, really little, but he was always pretty rough and would go overboard, so it just kinda hurt more than anything else."

Charlie listened closely, giving an understanding nod by the end. "So, you never-... Not even your friends?"

Nick couldn't help the chuckle as he shook his head. "You've met them. They're not really the, you know, touchy-feely sort of bunch."

Charlie let out a warm laugh and nodded again. "No, yeah, I guess you're right. Not even during rugby, though? I mean, it's so hands-on..."

But the look Nick gave him already seemed to answer the question. "Right, of course." Charlie lowered his gaze back down to his lap where he was fumbling with a little hole in the pillowcase.

Nick's head tilted to the side some as he observed his boyfriend, something he always did when trying to understand what was going on in his head. "Why?"

The question seemed to come as a surprise and Charlie struggled with a response. "Oh, well- I don't know." He shrugged. "It's... I guess it's just something people do, isn't it? And couples, especially..." He thought about all the times he had gotten into silly tickle fights with his friends, where nobody ever remembered how or why it started to begin with, and a fond smile came to his lips. "...I suppose to bond, cause it's kinda intimate but also silly and fun and harmless, or something." He finished with a shrug.

The corner of Nick's mouth pulled up into a smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh, so you want to be intimate with me, is that it?"

"Shut uup," Charlie whined with a laugh, rising to his knees just to clobber Nick over the head with the pillow, making the older boy collapse onto his back with a soft, muffled 'Oof'. "So, what, if I do?" he added as he settled back down onto his heels, pillow back in his lap.

Nick gave a quiet snicker. "I think it can't be any more intimate than non-stop snogging, can it?"

Charlie rolled his eyes but smiled regardless. "I guess not."

A comfortable silence settled between them with Nick sprawled on his back, eyes closed and Charlie letting his eyes wander all over the oblivious body, thinking to himself.

"Do you want to find out if you are?" Charlie asked eventually, giving the other's leg a small nudge with his own.

Nick's eyes opened and he met Charlie's curious gaze. "I don't know... But you look rather keen to find out yourself."

The heat rose in Charlie's cheeks, a feeling of betrayal for his own face rising within him but before he could open his mouth to defend himself, Nick gave a half-hearted sigh of exasperation, his arms stretching outwards on either side. "Fine, because you asked so nicely. What do you need me to do?"

A grin quickly took over Charlie's demeanour as he moved in closer, slowly straddling Nick's thighs but unable to hide any of the eagerness radiating off him. "Oh, nothing really, this is perfect." A pause. "Well, at least tell me when you're hating it or are uncomfortable and I'll stop."

Nick nodded.

The weight on his thighs shifted around a little as Charlie got himself comfortable. "Where do you want me to start?" he asked, a hint of hesitation and indecisiveness in his voice as he eyed the body beneath him.

"Uhm, I don't know." Nick lifted his head a tiny bit to better see Charlie. "I guess we can try all of your top spots, see if I'm any worse than you."

Charlie's face lit up with a smirk, his posture straightening up. "I like the sound of that. Okay. Well, in that case, that means..." He narrowed his eyes in concentration as his weight tipped back slightly, slender fingers finding the bare skin of Nick's knees, thanks to the shorts.

Nick's leg gave a small twitch, fingers swiping across his kneecaps or occasionally fanning over them. Not much more of a reaction came.

"Hm." Charlie changed tactics, hands reaching round to scribble against the back of the joints, finding much softer skin in the hollows of his knees.

This did seem somewhat more effective. A few chuckled breaths came from Nick's nose, the corners of his mouth twitching into that iconic lopsided smile.

"Alright, I guess we can rule out knees," Charlie decided, placing a few experimental squeezes to the muscle just above the kneecaps. "Oh. Or maybe not?"

The longer he continued squeezing away, interchanging speeds on either side, the more Nick's legs jerked and wiggled as if trying to dislodge him. There was still no laughter though, not even chuckles or giggles, only that wonky smile growing wider.

"That's definitely the worst so far," Nick commented, their eyes meeting. "But nowhere near as bad as you." His hands shot down, copying Charlie's move on the knees currently residing on either side of his hips.

"Hey. Hey!" Charlie jolted forward with a yelp as tickly sparks shot up his legs, quickly grabbing ahold of Nick's wrists and tugging his devious hands away. "This is not an interactive experience. No audience participation permitted, thank you."

They both laughed at his reply and Nick obeyed, moving his arms back to where they were before. Charlie gave a disapproving shake of his head, reminiscent of an old man just having shooed away some rowdy kids off his lawn.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, where would you rate your knees?" Charlie's hands returned to their previous position.

"Uh, I don't know. I don't really have a sense of what a ten would be, but probably... I guess, a one, maybe a two."

"Alright, one to two, noted. Moving on."

The squeezing fingers continued up the top of Nick's thighs, climbing higher until obstructed by Charlie's butt where he swiftly brought them to the front and continued uninterrupted.

Charlie looked away from his own hands for just a few seconds, observing the boy underneath him, determined to catch even the smallest reaction.

Nick did seem to twitch more, the higher Charlie's hands got. Until-

A violent jolt wrenched through Nick's body. There was a sharp gasp and the older boy bolted upright with such a force, he would have easily headbutted Charlie right in the nose had the latter not been completely thrown off balance by the sudden movement.

Now positioned in-between Nick's legs, rather than on top of them, a tight grip for dear life on the other's shorts, Charlie hesitantly tilted his head up.

They stared at each other, both wide-eyed, open-mouthed, wearing equal looks of surprise and shock.

"What was that?"

"I-... I'm not sure."

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm-... That really tickled."

"It did? Oh, man, I wasn't even paying attention to where my hands were. Your stupid, smiley face distracted me."

"Sorry." Nick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, freckles disappearing in the flush of his cheeks.

"Don't be. Do you want to keep going?"

There was a short moment of hesitation but Nick nodded and lay back down, giving Charlie his hands to pull him back onto his thighs.

Nick's brows, still furrowed in bafflement, raised questioningly once he saw Charlie's amused face beaming down at him.

"At least now we know that you are, in fact, still ticklish," he pointed out, answering the question before it could pass Nick's lips.

"Can you try that again? Just-... go easy this time."

Charlie grinned brightly and gave a nod, his hands coming back down to the tops of his thighs. "Of course, let's see. It was somewhere around here."

He repeated the same motions, albeit with a lighter touch and immediately felt the body beneath him tense up in anticipation. A couple more squeezed and there it was. Thumbs slotting into place in the shallow dip of Nick's groin, where thigh met torso.

"Ah-." Nick jerked and attempted to pull his knees in but the manoeuvre only made it easier for Charlie to zero in on the sensitive muscle, kneading tiny circles into the tissue.

"There it is," Charlie cheered, unable to hold back a laugh of his own as Nick's face scrunched up, random sounds of surprise intermingled with gasps and bursts of varying laughter.

The sensation was indescribable. Electric surges running all through his leg. And then, suddenly, like sparklers set alight just beneath his skin as Charlie switched to using his blunt nails through the thin fabric.

Back arched, hips bucking, Nick let out a scream of laughter, the sort that came from somewhere deep inside and could hoarsen one's voice if bellowed long enough.

Nick's brain, an overstimulated pile of goop, needed a few moments to kick in its defences. Grabbing onto the attacker's wrists blindly, he shook his head and the moment Charlie noticed the silently mouthed 'Stop', he relented.

Charlie retracted his hands, resting them against his own thighs as he watched Nick recover with a fond smile.

"Didn't I say... to go easy?"

"Maybe... On a scale of one to-"

"Ten."

"Let me finish the question-"

"Without a doubt, ten."

"Alright, ten, noted."

Nick lifted his head. "Oi, stop looking so smug." He nudged Charlie with a buck of his leg.

"Me, smug? What gives you that idea?" But Charlie made no attempt to stifle the pleased grin plastered to his face. "Are you okay to keep going?"

Nick groaned, head plopping back against the mattress. "Only if you leave that spot alone."

Charlie smirked, unable to help himself and gave a single, pointed pinch. "This spot?"

"AH! Charlie!"

Charlie brought his hands up as a sign of surrender. "Leaving it alone, I promise."

Their eyes locked and eventually, Nick rolled his, giving a complying nod.

Now that Nick did have a sense of what a ten on the scale felt like, he was much more on edge, anticipatory giggles slipping out easily.

The hips were the nearest target for Charlie's adventurous touches and still seemed rather sensitive but mostly because they were so close to the death spot, Nick couldn't help but be wary of Charlie's hands darting back down out of nowhere. But instead, they slipped beneath the hoodie, making contact with warm skin. Nails grazing against his lower belly and up, over his stomach had Nick in stitches. The giggles flowed out in a continuous stream, leaving him bright red and breathless by the time Charlie moved on to his sides. Light touches brought on occasional shivers, while calculated pinches and squeezes slowly climbing to his ribs had Nick cackling. Charlie also noted an increase in squirming, the higher his hands seemed to move, which was tauntingly slow.

"You okay there?" Charlie quipped lightly when Nick's hands came up to cover his burning face and grinned when he got a nod in return. "Lovely. Would hate for you to miss out on this."

"Wha-AAahHH!" Fuzzy sparkles spread from the centre of his abdomen, fizzling out somewhere around his waist. A single finger had dipped into the somewhat shallow belly button, rubbing back and forth against its base with barely any pressure. Still, Nick's back arched upwards, idiotically pushing himself further into the maddening touch.

"Eight?" Charlie asked with a tilt of his head, not even trying to hide his delight about this discovery.

"Get out!" Nick pleaded, his pelvis twisting from side to side.

"Alright, alright." Charlie's hands disappeared completely and it took Nick's frazzled brain a few seconds to understand that it wasn't because they were aiming for a different spot. Instead, the younger boy used the short breather break to move himself a little higher up Nick's body, giving him easy access to the upper half of his torso.

"God, I'm sweating," Nick groaned, fanning his hot face a little.

"It suits you, though," Charlie retorted with a hint of playfulness in his tone but he felt gracious, so he pushed Nick's hoodie up, letting it bunch together against his chest.

"Oh, zip it."

If anyone had asked, Charlie would have argued that it was an act of altruistic love, just wanting the alleviate the overheating boy's discomfort. In reality, all he was after was his exposed ribs. And it didn't take long for Nick to catch onto that fact.

Taking advantage of the growing anticipation, Charlie let his fingers trail downwards again, drawing light circles and spirals over Nick's sides, his sternum, pecs and upper chest, before-

With a surprised 'Jesus', Nick quickly dissolved into hysterics. For the first time, his arms made a move to protect himself, only to find that Charlie's knees were now blocking the way.

"I didn't know you were religious."

Nick was amazed how Charlie could sound so casual while he was taking practically every individual rib of his apart so meticulously, it was flustering.

"Charles," he tried to growl out through gritted teeth but failed to sound even the tiniest bit threatening, only receiving a warm laugh from the other boy in return.

Once again, Charlie became aware of the increased squirming and a thought occurred that would potentially clear some things up. The howling laughter Nick let out a moment later was answer enough.

Nick's entire body felt like it was made from lightning. His head tilted back, unable to focus on anything other than the fingers swirling in the hollows of his armpits.

Luckily, Charlie had other plans which would grant some distraction. Tempted by the now fully exposed neck, one hand darted upwards. A squeal intermingled with the previous howls and Charlie could feel the warmth of Nick's blush radiating against his hand.

Not wanting to overstimulate him too quickly with two such sensitive spots, Charlie's hand worked in an alternating pattern. Grazes against the neck then scraping at the hollow, light pinches at the nape then scribbling in the pit.

It seemed to hold up for a while too, keeping Nick on edge, even though it was a repetitive pattern, never quite knowing which shoulder to scrunch or what hand to grab for. The sudden kiss to his cheek came as even more of a surprise since he didn't even notice the weight at his waist shift at all.

"This is the cutest thing I've ever seen," Charlie remarked, the low voice so close to his ear sending goosebumps down Nick's arms.

"Stop," Nick whined out lightly, referring more to the teasing words than the teasing touches. But Charlie had been paying close attention all along and it was becoming noticeable that Nick was wearing out, his voice a little raspy, laughter mostly breathless.

Charlie pressed another kiss to his cheek. "I wanna try something."

Fluttering kisses trailed down the length of his neck and across under his chin, while both of Charlie's hands, one still on the other side of the neck, the other still under his arm, found a matching rhythm.

"Shiht!"

Nick was lost. The room around them disappeared and he found himself on a cloud, carrying him through a shower of fireworks, and sparks, and lightning, making his skin prickle in a way, he didn't even know was possible. Time lost all meaning, every little touch registering somewhere in his foggy brain and a dread of eternity crept up somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Stop," Nick choked out, tears beginning to prick at his eyes. "I can't-"

Charlie kept his word, immediately pulling back. Straightening up, his eyes scanned Nick's face for any signs of discomfort but he was still beaming with residual giggles bubbling out.

Before Charlie could ask if he was okay, Nick brought his hands up to wipe at his eyes. "Please, no more."

"Of course," Charlie responded earnestly with a nod. He clasped either side of Nick's face, leaving one last kiss at the corner of his mouth before climbing off. He lay down beside Nick, who took the first opportunity to curl up on himself, and pulled the older boy into a comforting embrace.

Nick groaned against his chest quietly, arms wrapped around his middle. He was sure his abs were going to be sore by the next morning. But the fingers entangling in his hair and the gentle scrapes against his scalp made him forget about that with ease.

"You lasted so long." There was a genuine tone of admiration in Charlie's voice, coaxing a sheepish grumble out of the older boy.

They lay like that for some time, only the sound of their breaths between them. Charlie was convinced that Nick had dozed off in his arms, but surprisingly, Nick lifted his head, gazing up at him with a face of playful curiosity. "So, what's your expert opinion? You think I'm more ticklish than you?"

A quiet laugh overcame Charlie and he bit his lip as he gave a small nod. "Yeah, you might be. My knees are definitely worse but you have so many spots that seem to get to you more. But at least our necks seem to be equally as sensitive."

He felt tempted to let his fingers flutter against Nick's for emphasis but the older boy already scrunched his shoulders up slightly, without Charlie having to move an inch. Phantom tickles passed by briefly at the mere mention of the spot.

"Hm."

"How do you feel about that?"

Nick thought for a moment. "I think it means that I get to have a fair share of revenge tickles."

Charlie felt that familiar drop of anticipation in his stomach which, like always, was soon followed by a surge of giddiness spreading through his body.

To his surprise, Nick only shifted to make himself more comfortable, cuddling closer to Charlie's body. "Nap first, though."

A warm smile spread across Charlie's face as he adjusted his embrace slightly, fingers entangling with the other's hair once again. His chest felt like it was going to burst open with the adoration he felt at that very moment, and he closed his eyes.

Although he knew that sleep was not going to come for him, he was happy enough to watch over Nick as he rested and recharged. "I'm not going anywhere."

#heartstopper #heartstopper tickle fic #tickle fic #tickling #ticklish!nick nelson #ticklish!charlie spring #ticklish!nick #ticklish!charlie #nick/charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring

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titan-fodder · 2 years

Text

Hey, y’all. Just have a blog announcement.

I’ll start it off by saying I’m not leaving tumblr or this blog. That’s the bottom line, no room for confusion. I wanted to get that out of the way.

And, now I’ll elaborate.

I’m feeling a little burnt out. I’ve been trying and failing to write pieces for months while helping manage a big collab, and I’m just kinda tired. Stuff that used to be fun to write isn’t very enjoyable anymore (I guess that’s what happens when you write explicit smut for two years). I’ve always been of the mind that if you try to force something, it’s not gonna be great quality, and I only wanna put out good quality content.

But, there’s also more.

I’ve been back in therapy for various reasons and recently started seeing a psychiatrist. First visit I was put on Prozac which is cool. I mentioned some other stuff and he made it clear that he also wanted to look into ADHD management—something that flew under the radar and remained undiagnosed for pretty much my entire life.

A couple weeks ago I started on Ritalin, and like… I can’t even explain how much easier life has gotten in such a short amount of time. I don’t live off of energy drinks, I stay focused, I’ve stopped biting my nails (which I’ve done forever), my inner monologue is coherent for the first time ever. It’s incredible. Like, I didn’t even realize how much difficulty I was truly having until I saw what it’s like to have a functioning fucking brain. I’ve had problems with anxiety and depression for most of my life, but already, I feel so much lighter.

Anyway, all of that’s to say that I’m just… in love with the outside world right now. I’m talking with old friends, I am obsessed with my wonderful husband. And, I’m enjoying it. I don’t have the urge to write when everything else is so good.

I still have projects I’d like to keep working on. My Big Bang fic, A Force of Nature, will still be posted mid to late August, but it’s incomplete so far. I adore it, so I have high hopes that I’ll finish it. I still have plans for Find a Way even if it has been sitting in my drafts for months. I want to keep writing them. I just don’t know when the inspiration could strike.

And who knows? I could post this and then come back with a “just kidding lol” in, like, two days. But, I think this mood is here to stay for a while, and I’m okay with it.

I’ll probably post some blurbs here and there, maybe fluffy one shots. Really whatever tickles my fancy. But the updates will be slower than ever before (and that’s really saying something considering how unreliable I already am).

I’m still gonna be around to read and reblog and talk with everyone. This app is almost constantly open on my phone, so this is the same blog it’s always been minus regular-ish content.

Anyway, love y’all! Don’t be afraid to reach out to chat via asks or DMs ‘cause I’d love it 💕

#just a lil psa #wil speaking

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sgcairo · 11 months

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Need Headcanons for Ivan! (l'm Childfree until it’s my baby lvan.)

Ohoho boy, I am so glad you asked because Ivan has been living in my head for a while now. And by a while I mean months, he's just a little grumpy guy that I love goofing around with.

For context (and those who are new here), Ivan is one of my many clone descendants (Danya's "cousin" by Irnes) and actually should appear soon in Telegraph, if I have my chapters straight... If you've ever wanted a grumpier and more angry wet cat energy version of Danya, you've come to the right place! He also happens to be a (future) general under Capitano, he's pretty good with the blade but not good enough to be a Harbinger (yet)!

So here we go, onto the Ivan headcanons!

-Ivan is surprisingly physically affectionate. He's not exactly cuddly, but if he likes you, he will find you, and he will stand by you awkwardly until you give him attention. As a child, he had the habit of hugging Irnes' leg and clinging to him like a little koala, which translated into bone-crushing hugs in his older years. While he's much more hesitant to dish those out, Danya is always there with an excited smile and open arms, which Ivan will never admit to enjoying hugs from his overexcited cousin. Never. You'd have to kill him.

-Baby Ivan was very quiet. Quiet to the point that Irnes freaked out and thought he was dead on several occasions, only to find that Ivan was just staring at him sleepily. The only time he cried was for the basics, otherwise Ivan was deathly silent, other than the happy giggles when Capitano would tickle him or Irnes would bring out the many accursed "toys" the segments made for Ivan. Those things definitely weren't baby safe, but hey, Ivan lived. Despite the many close calls, the segments were very proud of their work, to the point that Prime himself had to tell Irnes to get them to shut up.

-Child Ivan was also quiet, but not afraid to speak his mind. In fact, his speech was quite eloquent, even more formal than Danya's at the time, and that big brain of his could sustain conversation with Pierro, of all people. His ideas and opinions were definitely a lot more mature than they should've been at the ripe age of seven, but the Harbingers found it amusing that a seven year old had such strong and developed opinions on the "stupid experiments" Dottore was conducting- and the fact that he was proposing methods that might've been a bit fantastical, but definitely thought out.

-Ivan is generally cold to everyone, but Dottore- he hates Dottore with a burning passion. He loves his father, but Dottore presses all his buttons the wrong ways, and Ivan's quite sour about his abandonment of Danya, even if it's technically all in the past.

-Since Danya almost never gets angry, Ivan tends to be angry for him. The two don't usually come as a package deal, but when Ivan hears about a recruit being rude to Danya, or a foreign emissary overstepping and crossing the line, he'll put them in their place accordingly, and be in a bad mood for a while. That usually means he hacks up some training dummies, but he's been known to have a temper when Aurelio in particular is involved, especially after the accident with Danya's near death in Fontaine (that Aurelio was responsible for).

-Ivan also takes his role as the defender of his family quite seriously. He has two younger siblings, both which he adores, and he ensures that the court isn't making remarks about his father with force. In fact, part of the reason he's in the Snezhnayan military in the first place was his desire to protect his family, and keep them off the streets when times got rough. While yes, that did mean that he entered training at the age of thirteen, and fought on the battlefield for the first time at fourteen, the thought of ensuring his family's safety kept him going, and ultimately motivated him to climb the ranks.

-He's very close with Capitano and (begrudgingly) Tartaglia. Since he's a part of the infantry, and a general, he tends to follow Capitano more, but Tartaglia will show up to demand that they spar regularly, which Ivan has learned to reject. He's not eager to get blood on his freshly pressed uniform, please and thank you, and besides, he's got better things to do. Things like talk to Capitano about troop movements, and follow his senior around like a shadow. In fact, many of the Harbingers have taken to calling him "Capitano's lapdog", much to his disgruntlement, since it's rare to find Ivan without Capitano being nearby.

-Furthermore, on Capitano and Ivan's history: Ivan was originally promoted because he survived his first battle, and in an interesting manner. Ivan's panic at having a gun in his face manifested a vision, one that sliced all the surrounding enemies to ribbons in a mere second. It's not that visions are exactly rare in the Snezhnayan military, but seeing such a young boy, carrying one and looking grim like death itslef as he stood as the only surviving member of his platoon... Capitano's protective instincts kicked in more than he cares to admit, and he took the boy under his wing. He knows greatness when he sees it, and he wasn't exactly wrong.

-Capitano definitely pats his shoulder or back as a signal for Ivan to back down. Yes, Danya teases him for it. Ivan is conflicted.

-Ivan always stayed by Irnes as a child. Unlike Danya, he never really cared to explore the outside world, instead more than comfortable to sit in his father's lap and look at all the machinations and genius inventions that he designed. At one point, Ivan wanted to build ruin machines too, so he could be just like Irnes. He looked up to his father (and still does) more than he cares to admit, and holds him in high regard.

-Irnes was definitely a more gentle parent, especially with Ivan. The other two, he had to be a bit more firm with, but Ivan... He was always a cautious kid, and more often than not, he would come back to Irnes anyways after his "adventures" outside Dottore's lab. Ivan wasn't much of a talker, instead preferring to be more physical with his gestures, but he would always tell Irnes that he loved him whenever he thought about it, which made his dear old dad quite happy.

-Ivan has... mixed feelings when it comes to the Tsaritsa. He worships her, as she is his archon, and respects her power, but he's never been as close with her as Danya has. A part of him is jealous at how close his cousin is with Her Majesty, especially given how Irnes was also close with her, but another part of him knows better than to desire these things from his queen. The few times they have interacted on a less professional basis, she has always looked at him sadly, as if she knows something he doesn't.

Anyways, that's just a little peek at my thoughts regarding Ivan! Hopefully that made sense, because that's a lot of information to cram into one post...

#il dottore #dottore #il dottore's clones #genshin oc #genshin impact headcanons #fatui harbingers #fatui headcanons #genshin impact #ivan #irnes #capitano #danya #anastasiy #just me throwing a bunch of angry cat energy on this poor boy #i love him so much

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 2 years

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One Step at a Time (Love’s Wrecks, Part 5.)

Description: Heartbreak is one hell of a bitch. And one Edward Teach could tell you all about it. Yet thanks to Fate being a little trickster, there’s a person who enters his life to remind him of how nice it is of having someone he can confide in, someone he can care about, and someone he can trust. To remind him, what it means to have a friend for better or worse.

Part Summary: After suffering through an emotional breakdown, Edward realizes that you might be a person he can talk to about his feelings, ideas, and everything that is going down inside his head. Meanwhile, the crew tries to guess what happened and even has a very surprising request towards you.

Word counter: 4.5 K

A/N: To explain it: yes, the reader is reading The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen and yes, it mirrors the pilot (when Stede reads them Pinocchio) deliberately. I realize that The Ugly Duckling was written after both Stede and Ed had been dead already, but guess what? Pinocchio is even fucking older, so, please, don’t be negative about small details. Anyway, I love these small bonding scenes and when I’m trying to write down someone’s lines (dialogue), I always imagine how they’d say it. Shit suddenly gets 10 times funnier inside my head.

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @soliyra-the-sunbringer @le--petit--croissant

Series master list: h e r e | Series play list: h e r e

Waking up and laying in an unknown room was one of the wildest things you've done in a long time. Maybe even ever, to be frank. There was this horrendous smell of stale rum lingering about, the dust was settling down with each passing second. God fucking dammit, it honestly was one of the worst smells you woken up to - it was sharing the number one spot right next to John’s farts. With a quiet swear, you managed to sit up and look around you. You've been too sleepy to connect all the dots from the previous evening. You've surely had to be on board the Revenge, but you couldn't name in which part of you currently were. This was some brand-new scenery for you. Clearing your throat, you decided to explore the place a bit.

For a moment, you’ve been looking around a wardrobe that was genuinely impressive in both size and variety - and for a reason, you immediately knew that none of the clothes belonged to Blackbeard himself. There was an enormous amount of luxurious fabrics, from normal linen to some expensive-looking silk; some were exotic with intricate patterns decorated with gold or gemstones. The color pallet was lively, from plain grey or black to teal blue and shiny orange. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air after seeing all the boring, torn, and dirty clothes the boys wore all the time. And more so, all the clothes smelled fresh too. This simply had to be a remnant of Stede Bonnet.

With a small frown, you yawned and stretched your back, almost screaming when something gentle tickled your calves. Looking down on your feet, you’ve noticed that you’ve covered and tugged into a long pink silk robe with an intricate pattern as well. And it was at that moment when your brain started to remember what had even happened the evening before. With each new memory, your eyes were widening in panic; bringing the tea, Blackbeard crying, you trying to comfort him… Fuck you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you moaned inside your head, this is beyond bad. This is horrible. What the fuck have I done?

Now, there was the question of what to do next. You could’ve stayed in the sulking room and panicked for a bit more, you could’ve picked yourself up on your feet and walked out of there, or, also, you could’ve just opened the window behind you and just jump overboard before either of the two idiots (the idiots being the captain and his right hand) will have the chance to execute that stunt themselves. It took you quite a bit to go through all of the options above, but you decided for living (just for now anyway); so you picked yourself up on your feet, hung the rope on one of the hangers, and straightened up. The newfound confidence didn't stick around for too long, though - moments later, you've been walking out of the sulking room hugging yourself, looking around like a hunted animal.

At first, you didn’t see him anywhere; that made you calm down a bit as you crept towards the table to pick all of the dishes up. You’ve been just putting the last bowl onto the tray when the wooden floor crooked right in front of the captain’s bed, making you jump since the sound alone scared you. To be frank, it was amusing to watch you from the shadows. You've been moving at a surprising fact pace, constantly looking left and right. The room was still pretty dark, so you didn’t blame yourself for not seeing Blackbeard earlier - and this time, you could see that it was him operating the body. His eyes were dark once more, the emotions were huddled up and frankly, you haven’t been able to read them; to be honest, it was freaky to look him in the two black holes in the middle of his face. The man was now furrowing as he tilted his head a bit, furrowing while taking in each move you took - his eyes slipped on your parted lips, on your widened eyes and shaking hands. You’ve been the most horrified he had seen you... Even more terrified than when he barely missed your forehead with that empty bottle.

What happened last night? What was that short-circuit you've noticed yesterday? Well, that wasn't that hard to explain. At least inside his head. For you, it must've been unexplainable. Edward was weak. Why was he weak? Because it was the three-month anniversary of Stede simply leaving him alone and about; three months of endless depression, anxiety, and hatred. Sometimes, Blackbeard couldn’t be the default setting, and yesterday, you’ve seen Edward taking control, letting the myth sleep for a bit. The anniversary made an absolute mess out of him, making him unable to control himself, he wasn't able to keep it in. All Edward wanted to do was to drink as much alcohol as he could, his goal was to pass out, to numb the pain for a bit; and you’ve been there to experience it first hand. And not only to see it but to help him go through it.

This was the part that caught Edward off guard. Ever since he started bottling his emotions once more, which happened after Stede disappeared, Edward didn’t have an option to confide in anyone. No one gave two cents about how was he feeling, nobody wanted to listen to his pathetic whining, and anyone on the ship hardly cared for Edward's feelings by now. Well... Not until yesterday. No one except you, it seemed. Maybe that was why Ed gave in so easily once you offered him the option to be vulnerable and broken, to open up without using any words. The man was so deprived, alone, and sad that he jumped after that offer. Now, you knew how weak he could be. What confused him the most was the fact that it… Felt relieving. It made him feel better.

Three months was a long time to lose himself to Blackbeard and to the chaos of the pirate way of living. It was very easy to slip back into the myth, to act as he was supposed to. Violence helped ease things a bit; aggression too, but it wasn't a healthy resolution in the long run. It wasn't any kind of resolution if he had to be frank. Truth be fucking told, Blackbeard wasn’t at all what Edward wanted to be. The day before? Maybe, yeah; did he want to be Blackbeard this morning? No fucking way. You weren’t Stede by no means, you didn’t know Edward well nor did you share any kind of connection to him (you weren’t even attempting to be a pirate), but there was this warm, gentle look in your eyes. And that was why you reminded him of Stede as much, because of that shy, gentle gaze. It was reminiscent of the emotion Edward associated with the word 'safety' - it was the look of friendship. So, Edward took another step forward and furrowed, even more, piercing his eyes through your ashen face and terrified expression. Then, he put one of his thumbs behind his belt and stopped on the other side of the table.

“I told you to leave me alone, didn’t I?” - The man asked, lighting up a smoking pipe while shooting sharp gazes your way. He’d swear you were about to faint; you put a palm on your chest, you started to breathe heavily and your eyes were tearing up. “And if I’m correct, and I know I am, Izzy also told you to leave me alone. And you, against all direct orders, stayed here with me. You’re nothing more than a fucking tea brewer, which isn't any kind of useful position, by the way, and yet, you still managed to ignore us both. The most important men on board this vessel. That’s fucking fierce.” - That was the moment you started to sob, looking at him like a horrified child that was just caught doing something naughty. Blackbeard brought his eyebrows closer together, waiting for your answer; if you’d have known him, you’d surely notice the hint of unsaid admiration in his tone. The man honestly thought that not accepting direct orders just to offer him comfort was fierce and pretty fucking brave.

“I shouldn’t have done that, sir. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’ve sounded so… So lonely and I just think I got caught up in my emotions. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly, ‘cause, you know how women get sometimes, and…” - The gaze you gave him was legitimately heartbreaking. Edward had to stop himself for a moment; what were you thinking about? Wait, what did you think he was going to do? Maybe he frightened you too well the first time and the rest was his reputation? - “Please don’t murder me because of this mistake, sir. I swear that I won’t tell a soul, not even a word. Nothing. I’ll be as silent as a…” - “Thank you.”

The man blurted out so suddenly that your speech halted in a matter of a second. You've been just thinking about various things you could be as silent as to when he repeated himself. - "Thank you." "I thought you were... Angry. Like, very angry." - You mumbled, not sure as to what you were supposed to do. The man thanked you, but what did it mean for you? First and foremost, it had to mean that you were not being killed off that day. Which, as usual, was something you sighed in relief for. To be frank, you noticed you were sighing like that a serious lot in the past few weeks... Was that a bad sign? - "Like murder me angry." "I should be, I suppose. If you want to die this much, I can... Kill you... I suppose." - The man answered with a furrow, barely containing the first waves of laughter shaking his body.

"Oh, if that's not an option, I'd very much prefer to stay alive. That sounds so much better." "Well, glad we have that off the table. On the other hand, I have a favor to ask you." "Oh, anything, captain. You can trust me. Anything you'd need, I'm your man... Woman... Whatever." - You blurted nervously, still shaking like a scared child. Edward didn't quite understand it; you heard it first hand, he had no intentions of killing you. Why were you still scared? Why did you barely look him in the eyes? Why didn't you have a normal, nice conversation with him? And, well, since Edward was never the patient one, his palm suddenly hit the desk of the table, making each piece of the porcelain set shake on the silver tray as well as made you jump a bit. - "Can you stop being so fucking scared? I'm trying to have a conversation with you, woman, relax already! I don't need you to stick your head up my asshole, just talk to me, goddammit!" - The man growled out in a deep voice, making you look him in the eyes again.

He let his palm lay on the desk, closing his eyes as he huffed out the smoke. Great. That much for making you more relaxed, huh? Using violent gestures, being angry, and overall just pissy. It wasn't his fault, that much he was sure of; Edward just forgot how to have a normal conversation. Izzy and he just spat insults into each other's face with Ed threatening to execute Izzy if he says one more word by the end of each interaction the two men had. It was so difficult trying to... Talk to someone again. "Must be my temper issues." - Edward stated with a neutral tone of voice, huffing smoke out once more. The next bit was what made you fully pay attention to the guy, though, simply because you'd never suspect he'd say that. - "Excuse me, Mrs. Trott." "My apologies, captain. What would you like me to do?" - This time, you added a small, sweet smile as you looked him in the face, slowly picking up the tray. The man in front of you was clearly struggling with forming the sentence, but he nodded after a while, looking away from you; this clearly wasn't an easy conversation for him.

"If it wouldn't be too strange, would you, in any case, serve the tea a bit later than usual and... Perhaps stay to have a talk?" - Edward mumbled out silently, so silently that you almost missed it. Oh dear, would you look at that - you were sure he was about to kill you just a minute ago and now you were about to have a tea party in the evening. That was, surely, a strange turn of events. On the other hand, you knew you couldn't exactly refuse this offer... See, you had to bear in mind that the man in front of you, no matter how shy and hurt he seemed to be, still was Blackbeard. Being alone with him still meant a risk; all it could take would be one bad look or a word and he could become agitated in a matter of seconds. But a straightaway refusal would put you in a really bad spot too. So, as usual, you just smiled and bowed a bit. - "It would be my pleasure to accompany you in the evening, sir. Should I bring you your morning brew, as usual?" "That would be nice of you, thanks. See ya." - The captain nodded and walked away from you, hiding in the back of the cabin once more. After that, you finally picked up the tray and waltzed out of the room, taking in a deep breath as you walked out of the small hallways, finally smelling the fresh air with the hint of salt. The weather was just beautiful - there were no clouds in the sky, the sun was shining and the sea was calm. Olivia was sitting on the rudder, right in front of Buttons' face, looking into the distance with her eyes narrowed; Buttons was standing right behind her with his eyes widened and yet, still absent, as usual. Swede was taking care of the rigging and Pete, as usual, was crawling on all fours and polishing the wooden part of the deck. It was yet another beautiful day on the Revenge... Not for too long, though.

As soon as the crew heard the door clicking back into the place, all the men turned their heads your way. Oh, God, yeah... You had some explaining to do, didn't you? You didn't think about what you were gonna say to the boys once you'll see them. The realization hit you as soon as you saw them, doing their daily chores; you had to come up with a story, no matter how stupid the story might be. And, as if this alone wasn't enough to bring your mood down a bit, it wasn't only the boys who saw you - Izzy, as soon as you appeared, cleared his throat and widened his eyes. Oh, fuck, you were in deep trouble, weren't you? ¨

"May I have a word, lady Trott?" - The small scrag called out to you, making you stop with a tensed smile on your lips. - "Why of course, sir." - You answered with a wide smile, following him to the back of the ship. As soon as he was sure you were out earshot, he caught the wooden railing in his palms and clenched his jaws. Izzy was about to lose it at any moment. "What did I ask you to do?" "Not to talk about anything I'd see or hear in the cabin, sir. Not like I planned on it, anyway." "That's cute, but that's not all, is it?" "Ah, I see. In my defense, I acted on the captain's behalf and with his permission..." - "But that's not what you were asked for, you... Moron." - Izzy hissed with his voice so high-pitched that you wondered about how high his testicles had to be. - "I asked you not to react to anything that would be happening in there, does that ring a bell?" "I'm once again telling you that I acted with Blackbeard's personal permission and with his well-being in mind. Do you have any idea about what your captain looked like yesterday, sir? Like a piece of mess." - This time, you stepped closer to Izzy and pushed your face into his personal space, hissing back at him. Being under Edward's wings, in a sense, made you feel confident. Since the captain sure as hell wanted you alive in the evening, that meant that Izzy couldn't get you killed throughout the day. - "How in the hell would you want him to obtain his reputation as Blackbeard if he's barely capable of walking out of his goddamn bedroom? Hm? And guess what, sir? The captain wants to talk to me in the evening, so if even try to lay your dirty rat fingers on me, you will have to explain yourself to him. Now, move out of my way, please. Have a wonderful day, sir."

As you left Izzy standing there, you were grinning to yourself with pride; the idiot was staring at you with his mouth open wide, not understanding anything you were blabbering. Where did that confidence come from? Who were you? A few days back, you'd start shaking just because Izzy would look your way. And now? Now, you were threatening him. - "What the fuck?" - The man mumbled as he watched you open the door leading into the kitchen, disappearing there with the silver tray in your palms. Long story short, you weren't wrong. Each member of the crew was super curious about what had happened the evening before - where were you? Why didn't you come? Why was your spot empty? Swede was so upset by your sudden disappearance that he couldn't shut his eyes the entire time.

As soon as you delivered Edward his morning brew of tea (this time, he was nowhere to be seen or heard), everyone started asking you, telling you their theories; they, in fact, had so many theories that they kept on coming until the very evening. To be honest, you and Jim had the time of your lives laughing at all of the theories; one being more stupid and outrageous than the one before. Wee John thought that you were turned into a mermaid and jumped off the ship to report to King Triton, the king of the seas. Swede was sure that you spent your night tied up to the hull of the ship as a punishment for being a woman (because Izzy sure as hell was that kind of a bastard), Frenchie told you a whole ass story about witches and cats... And the absurdities were becoming more and more absurd.

Only Jim wholeheartedly didn't care about where you've been or what you've been doing; they were enjoying all of the lunatic theories since they had to go through the same experience when the men learned they were not a mute man named Jim. Since you've been going through the theories while eating dinner, you two had been sitting at the head of the table, laughing while eating your goulash. "I think I'm going to disappoint you, guys." - You snickered after Buttons told you his personal theory. It was so crazy and intense that you only barely understood what it had been about. - "What really happened is that... I slipped on a soap bar in the cabin, hit my head, and passed out. As soon as I woke up, I packed everything up and left the cabin. But the witch-slash-cat theory? That's a fire one, Frenchie. Really good." "That's not what happened, is it?" - Oluwande asked with a grin on his face. "No, it's not." - You admitted, snickering as well. "And you're not going to tell us, are you?" - Jim asked with a smile on their face, watching your grin widen as you shook your head. - "But all of the theories were really good and creative. Why aren't you guys storytellers or something? Holy hell, imagine how would it look like if any of you could write."

As you used the phrase, storytellers, everyone's face saddened a bit. Everything that was happening at that table was so reminiscent of the days when Stede was around. The atmosphere was so warm and nice, everyone was a wee bit more careless than usual, and everyone felt nice. And damn, it felt good, to forget everything for a minute and to simply compete about who will come up with the most insane, weird fucking story. They missed the evenings when Stede would just sit down among his men, trying to learn more about them, telling them various stories and laughing at theirs. Suddenly, Swede looked you in the face with his baby-blue eyes and started pleading in a quiet, soothing voice... - "Y/N... You can read and write, right?" "I suppose I can." - With a chuckle, you tipped your bread in the goulash again. The entire crew was watching your face, making you very uncomfortable. With a snort, you jolted a bit. - "Yes. Yes, I can fucking read. Why?"

"Would there be a possibility..." - Pete mumbled, having others joining him. - "Yeah, just a slight one, you see?" - "It's kind of stupid to ask, but it could be really nice." - "And we mean... Very nice." - "Oh it would be great..." - "We would love that, honestly. Isn't that right?" - "Absolutely, man." "All of you, stop. Just tell me what you need me to do. Yes, I can read and I can write too, but how does that help any of you?" "Would you mind reading us a bedtime story?" - Wee John asked all of sudden, catching you off guard. With each passing day, the crew of Revenge surprised you more and more. At first, you thought they had to be joking. All of them were adult men, no shit they'd ask you for a bedtime story, right? Right? The longer you looked around the table, the more obvious it was becoming that none of the men was joking. They seriously wanted you to read them a bedtime story. There were moments in which it was very easy to forget that no matter how tough these men attempted to be, they were still softies on the inside. And so, with a big smile on your lips, you nodded. - "Fine, I'll read you a bedtime story tonight. Did... Did he do that?"

"Every night." - Jim answered, looking into their bowl of goulash. While they were going through memories inside their head, there was a small smile appeared on their lips. - "Back when I was still just... Jim, he read us the fairytale about the wooden boy. That was fun and... Wee John cried like a small girl." "Of course I did, the boy made it! He became life!" - John started defending himself with passion, turning the conversation into an argument rather quickly. So Stede read them bedtime stories... Wow. How much there could be to know about Stede Bonnet? It almost felt as if you were following in his footsteps and no matter what you learned about him, it was always a pleasant surprise. The man seemed to care about his crew so deeply and with so much warmth and love... Why did he leave? What happened? More so, did it have to do anything with the conflict he and Edward had going on? Even if you learned new information each day, it still felt like you barely knew anything about the Gentleman pirate.

An hour later, the tea set was prepared on the silver try; you were sitting on a barrel in the subdeck with a laters swinging above your head, watching the men go to sleep. You chose one of the children's books that you got from the boys; when Lucius heard about this strange request, a painful smile appeared on his face, but he didn't say anything. There was a gentle smile on your face; Wee John was holding a doll in his enormous fist, Roach was hugging a bag of potatoes with a contained smile on his face, Swede was looking up at you and Pete was sort of laying in front of you. - "Everyone tugged in?" - You asked after a few minutes of fuss. Suddenly, the entire underdeck became silent and all eyes were fixed on you. "Alright... Close your eyes now, just like that... That's it... Oi, what's the fuss? Listen, Fang, if you don't close your eyes right now, we ain't starting." - With a portrayed furrow, you pointed your finger at him and warned him. Suddenly, every man in the room was looking at him, telling him to lay down and to close his eyes. Wow, fairy tales were taken rather seriously on this ship, you realized. - "Guys, I think he got the memo. Calm down." - Waiting for a bit longer, the men finally closed their eyes and waited for you to start reading. And so, you decided to finally open the book and started reading. - "Ehm..." - You cleared your throat quickly, finally looking at the first page. - "It was so beautiful out on the country, it was summer - the wheat fields were golden, the oats were green, and down among the green meadows the hay was stacked..."

As you continued on reading, the room was becoming more and more silent; until the first snores disturbed the heavenly peace. Stopping yourself, you put your finger on the word you've been just reading and looked around. The men were all sleeping now, snoring and breathing loudly, farting and slobbering all over the place. You managed to barely read half of the first fairy tale; the ugly duckling was just bumped into the wild ducks who had been wondering about who the hell the creature is. Sighing, you quietly slipped down off the barrel, putting the book on top of it. Tiptoeing on the tips of your feet, you caught the lantern in your fingers and blew the candle before leaving the underdeck altogether. You had a promise to keep.

#blackbeard x fem!reader #edward teach x fem!reader #bi edward teach #our flag means death #our flag means death series/imagine #ofmd #our flag means death hbo #OFMD crew in action #look at all of my boys being sissies #i love the entire crew lmao #they be all stupid but in their own way and that's so cute #izzy be hissing in the background cause reader finally told him to fuck off #oh another wonderful day on board of the revenge #stede bonnet #stede bonnet x edward teach #we are getting there boys #the *drama*

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haghottie420 · 1 year

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Okay in honor of You Run My Mind, Boy getting 169 hits I'm going to share this scene that I wrote first. Like, this scene has been in my mind since the beginning. Obvs it's not finished and out of context but I'm tickled by it. It will appear later on in the fic. Under cut because for some reason people spam JeffDean shippers :

“I don’t know how this happened.” Jeff says through the cracks of his fingers. With his cell phone shoved against his left ear, he’s sitting heavily at his breakfast bar with his head resting on the marble countertop. The stone feels cool against his cheek and it’s serving to regulate his rapidly increasing temperature. Jeff can feel the reverberation of his helpless statement to Abed, the startlingly quiet audience to Jeff’s current Situation, on his skin.

“The Sandler Effect.” Abed says sagely. Jeff nearly throws his phone across the room but aborts the movement before it can leave his clenched fist.

“The. What.”

“The Sandler Effect.” Abed repeats except now it sounds like he’s chewing.

“Are you eating in the middle of my mid-life bisexuality crisis?”

There’s a loud slurp on the other end of the line. “My buttered noodles wait for no man. Not even you, Jeff Winger.”

“You are making me almost regret not going to Britta.” Jeff pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves a sigh. “Fine. But please explain yourself before I make you.”

Through a mouth full of noodles Abed says, “Ah, regression to season one. You’ve got it bad.” There’s a swallow before he continues. “Adam Sandler, like Craig—” Jeff wonders when the hell Abed started calling him by name. “—has always been around. In one or two blockbusters but as for the rest? They grated audiences’ nerves. Then, BOOM.” Jeff can hear the faint clink of Abed’s dishware shaking as he presumably smacked his table. “Uncut Gems. Suddenly, Sandler isn’t a joke anymore. He’s got Oscar Buzz. The truth is, Sandler was never a bad actor. It just took the right film, the right light, to get audiences to take him seriously.”

“So, Craig is Adam Sandler and I’m…audiences watching Adam Sandler?”

There’s a loud moan that sounds nothing like Abed through the phone.

“As my roommate’s dungeon-friend just put it,” Abed puts on an overtly pornographic affectation. “Yessss.”

“Abed, there’s just one problem in your analogy. Audiences watching Adam Sandler never get to bang Adam Sandler.”

“Not physically but emotionally audiences made sweet sweet love to Adam Sandler.”

Jeff nearly brains himself on his marble countertop. He presses his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose.

“Abed,” Jeff starts loudly then, glancing at the wall he shares with Craig’s apartment, begins to whisper. “Listen carefully because I am likely to never say this to you again. I want to physically make love to Craig.” This last bit is whispered, thin walls work both ways.

#community #jeffdean #my fic #snippit #jeff winger #abed nadir #bisexual jeff winger

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tteokdoroki · 9 months

Note

hi aali!! welcome back!!! it’s so lovely to see you on my dash again <3 I saw your ask game and my eyes popped out of my sockets— would it be alright if you could do

❛ i need to come. please, i'll do anything. ❜ + breeding kink + sero hanta ?

I hope you’re having a lovely day!!

☆༉ — HANTA SERO: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.

line. ❛ i need to come. please, i'll do anything. ❜

extension. breeding kink + afab!reader + nsfw, mentions of makeup.

things to note. eee thank u baby!! im happy to be back n i hope u enjoy this mwah mwah mwah (also i seem to have a terrible obsession with sero n cowgirl bye)

sero fucking adores you on top for three reasons in particular.

the first is that he can see your face when you cry, getting to look directly up at you while you sniffle and sob because he’s fucking you to high heavens and you need some kind of out let to bring you back down from cloud nine. sero will swipe a thumb under your big glossy eyes, and suck the salty tears from the pad of it just to get a reaction out of you. usually it makes you cry harder, until your mascara is nothing but dark tracks on your cheeks and your lips are wet and shiny from your own tears.

the second is that sero gets to feel you up, touch all over you. his finger tips will cascade from the back of your neck to your throat, dragging you down to slot his cheeky mouth against yours. his tongue then prods and pushes past the seam of your lips, toying with the taste of your sugar-coated and ecstasy dipped whimpers (and perhaps the taste of his cock) on your own. sometimes his hands dip lower, thumbing at those sensitive nipples until they’re budding like flowers in bloom, hanta’ll put his mouth on them too, catch your breasts in its hit cavern when they jiggle cutely as you bounce up and down on his curved length.

you’ve always said that you like how his black rooted hair tickles your skin when he leaves hu kiss across your chest.

but most of all, he likes it when you use him for your own pleasure — as if he’s nothing but a real life dildo and a sack of emotions. “fuckin’…shit honey. you’re fucking me so good,” sero is love sick, as you sink down on his slender cock and circle your hips to make sure you’ve taken it all. “show me how that pussy takes it, baby. wanna see,”

he’s running his mouth, slurring over spit and poorly strung together sentences and he knows you’re not listening. you’re too focused on bringing yourself right to the edge again and getting what you want, his cum in your gorgeous cunt until it’s running down both of your thighs. thrusting downward, both of you share a satisfied moan as sero’s leaky tip bullies it’s way up your glistening walls to bare down perfectly against your g-spot — you gush in response, a fresh wave of your nectar beading perfectly down his shaft. only catching on the blue forked veins that spiral around him.

through the misty veil of lust that clouds your brain, you manage to grasp at sero’s wrist — dragging his hand between your shaky overworked legs to guide him into spreading your pussy lips apart. “y’see me han’, ‘m all wet, all for you.” you tell him earnestly, bathing his throbbing cock in your warmth. you make sure that he gets an eyeful, a chance to observe the crude mix of his milky precum and your juices that run through your parted folds like treacle. “need you.”

before he has a chance to sing your praises, you brace your hands on the broad scope of sero’s chest — lifting yourself up and down in his lap, working yourself on his cock like it’s all that you’re trained to do. seeing himself smeared over your clit, stringing white glazing your thighs only motivates sero to fuck up into you — chasing your high and his own, desperate to see more of his cream inside of you.

or maybe he’s desperate to get you knocked up, see you swell with his seed — churn your insides up real good and have you all bred by him. who knows what he wants? sero can’t even tell, already burying himself to the hilt inside of you, grabbing your hips, your ass, your waist and circling you over him so that your eyes roll back. “i need to cum. please, i'll do anything.” he chants like it’s a mantra or a prayer dedicated to you. “wanna fill you up nice ‘n pretty. you want that, right? you wanna cum on me, pretty baby? make me cum deep inside—“

hanta can’t help but goad you, coerce you into riding him faster, harder — even if you’d intended to drag this one out. “that’s it, baby. use me, fuck yourself down on me. please,” he stutters out. he could die here, sero thinks, and he’d be so fucking happy — watching your eyes disappear into the dark of your skull, your thighs quiver and your chest sway with your sinful movements. “please, , jus’ wanna make’a’mess of these insides, wanna fuck my cum so deep inside it sticks. gotta have you full of me…”

“then cum, hanta. make me yours,” tip of the iceberg and the key to heaven’s gates is when you flip the script, begging for him to breed you. your slick walls start to twitch around him, your release trickling out of you without even a warning. that’s when hanta knows he’s fucked.

a pathetic sob nearly knocks his heart and lungs out of place when he finally hits his high, rope after rope of hot white seed flooding your clenching hole — he grabs your hips so tight that you’ll see fingerprints in the morning and keeps you still on top of him through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

maybe there’s a fourth thing sero loves about having you on top — the way you always beg for his cum in the end.

#sero x reader #sero smut #bnha smut #sero thirst #sero x you #bnha thirst #bnha x reader #mha smut #mha thirst #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta smut #mha x you #✮⋆˙ 0-800-hot guy-hotline #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚🗯️੭ — messenger #autumnalsteahouse #✧ ₊˚🃏੭ — games

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veilchenjaeger · 2 years

Note

Song Lan and Jiang Cheng for enrichment bingo!

I see you picked two narrative parallels. That's a very sexy choice. [points at them] They're the same character but also very much Not

Zichen first:

ZICHEN MY BELOVED! I love and adore him and would die for him. A true Blorbo. He's also so much fun to write; his brain is a very calming place to be in despite all his worries and guilt and phobias. I just love him so much.

I'm of the weird opinion that he didn't have enough screen time, but also... wasn't wasted or done dirty, per se? I wish we had seen more of him, but he's also a supporting character in a side plot, so I get why his screen time was limited. And I truly love how well he comes alive (lol) despite having, like, three lines. I always think it's impressive if a character who barely has any screen time is nonetheless well-rounded, and both MXTX and CQL/Li Bowen did such a good job with him.

Otherwise... uh, I don't talk about many of my Zichen opinions on main bc of the wasps' nest thing. Let's say that I strongly dislike his fanon and leave it at that.

The purple boy:

Everyone but me is wrong about Jiang Cheng not because I'm in any way knowledgeable about Jiang Cheng, but because everyone but like, three people is wrong about Jiang Cheng, period. Likewise, my opinions wouldn't be received as akin to hitting a wasps' nest with a baseball bat because I have particularly outrageous Jiang Cheng opinions, but because every opinion about Jiang Cheng would be received as akin to hitting a wasps' nest with a baseball bat. I've honestly never been this baffled by the discourse around a character before. Like??? He's not even evil. What is going on why is Jiang Cheng discourse like that why IS THERE Jiang Cheng discourse in the first place

Anyways, I really like Jiang Cheng! He's a great character with a great arc that addresses many very interesting themes! He just doesn't tickle my brain the way many other MDZS/CQL characters do, so I don't give him that much attention. That might have something to do with the only Jiang Cheng ship I actively ship being Chengning, which is such a rarepair for some reason? (The "The popular ships suck" square isn't fully accurate; I think they're valid and many of them have interesting aspects. I just personally like... one of them, which is Sangcheng, and I only ship that if it features them being sad 30somethings, which is not the vibe I'm getting from most Sangcheng stuff.)

But yeah. Love the boy, but not feeling the Blorbo Emotions.

#/thoughts about jiang cheng ships in this chili's tonight #/i think chengyao is fun but only if they're already divorced #/the zichen wasps' nest is less about me being potentially stung by wasps and more about me potentially hurting people's feelings #/i don't think any zichen liker would sting me like a wasp i feel safe from wasps in this corner of the fandom #[talk less smile more]#[epistulae ad atticum]#/thank you for ask!!! i feel enriched #song lan #jiang cheng #the untamed

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miekasa · 3 years

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1+1 (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff...... again....... is it getting boring and predictable yet lmao, once again the dog’s name is captain and no i do not regret it

↯ word count: 2.5k

↯ summary: levi ackerman is a cuddler, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. (aka me once again pushing my physical affection is levi’s love language agenda because he’s a poor, touch-starved little man).

i. the lap pillow: person A sits upright, while person B rests their head in person A’s lap. head pets and hair playing option, but highly encouraged.

Levi spent an obnoxious amount of time picking out the perfect couch for his apartment. He might have paid a little bit more than what he’d originally budgeted for, but it was worth it; his soft, plush couch and accompanying cushions were equally comfortable and beautiful, matching the interior of his living room, and posing at the perfect nap spot when Levi was too tired to make it to the bed, or wanted to lounge around with Captain for a while.

Or, well, it used to be worth it. Because now, Levi would rather lay his head on your lap than on his stupid, expensive couch and all its cushions.

Sure, the couch still provides comfort or refuge for the rest of his body, a comfy cavern to stretch his limbs or crash on after a long day, but with you there, all the benefits go to his head; literally, because when his head is in your lap, you stroke his face, comb through his hair, pad your thumb against his lips—whatever, Levi doesn’t really fucking care, because all of it is heavenly.

“Do you want to go to bed?” you question softly, hand raking through Levi’s hair. He’s lying on his back, not even pretending to have been watching the TV, as to let you have maximum access to his hair and face.

“No,” he says shortly, shifting his foot around to allow for your yorkie puppy to curl up at the other end of the couch, “Comfortable here.”

You try to hide the chuckle from escaping your lips. Levi certainly wasn’t shy about how much he liked your affections, especially within the closed walls of his apartment; but it always amused you just how simultaneously clipped, yet clingy he could be about it.

“Your neck is going to hurt, love,” you tell him, slowly moving your right hand from his hair to trace along his eyebrow, then down his cheek.

Levi huffs, ever so slightly. Then, gently, turns on his side, rotating his body and head, so that his cheek is now pressed along your thigh, legs curled up to his stomach, allowing Captain more space to curl into a ball at the base of Levi’s feet. He bends his arms, both coming to rest on your thighs as well, just an inch from his face.

“It’s fine like this,” he grumbles, voice thick with sleep—and a bit of frustration, because you’ve ceased playing with his hair at this point, “I’m going to take a nap, don’t move.”

You can help your laughter from escaping, “I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”

He hums in affirmation, shifting around just a bit to his comfort. You smile at the way he wiggles his toes, Captain taking it as an invitation to snuggle closer to Levi. You rest your right hand against Levi’s shoulder, lightly massaging his muscles as to not disturb his drifting to sleep, and resume your focus on the TV ahead of you.

Just when you’d thought Levi was on his way to falling asleep, he lets out a discontented grunt, moving his arm backwards to grab at your wrist, and with gentle, but firm force, moves your hand that was massaging his shoulder to the top of his head. He says nothing, only moves his hand back to its previous position, and once again shifts to readjust his napping position.

You get the message, and with a wide smile, you carefully begin to thread your fingers through his hair again; and with a satisfied purr, Levi snuggles his head into your lap, and finally drifts off to sleep.

ii. the half spoon/chest rest: person A lays flat on their back, while person B curls into their side, laying their head on person A’s chest.

Levi rarely falls asleep before you do, so he’s had quite a bit of time to observe your sleep habits—as non-creepily as possible, of course.

You’re a pretty normal sleeper—again, not that he spends his time watching other people sleep, or anything—but you do have your own quirks; most of which Levi finds endearing on some level or another. Like the way you always have to have a minimum of three pillows on your side of the bed, even if you don’t sleep with all three of them at the same time. And the way your arms subconsciously curl up, usually around a pillow if Levi isn’t there, or even around yourself if there’s no object for you to grasp.

One of your sleeping ticks he isn’t particularly fond of is the way you move around. Not sporadically, and thankfully, not to a point that leaves you sprawled across the mattress at an obscure angle, but just… around. He especially hates when you roll away from him, because you usually roll away and never roll back.

Which is why Levi is generally fond of cuddling positions in which he’s holding you, as to make sure you don’t, quite literally, roll out of his arms. Because nothing pisses Levi off more than waking up and realizing you’ve rolled away and taken to snuggling against your pillow instead of him. He’s much better than a pillow. Warmer, too. Not mention, a real, actual human being.

Right now, you’re tucked almost expertly into Levi’s right side, head laying on his chest, your right arm over his stomach, hand just barely tickling the exposed skin from his shirt riding up. Levi likes the feeling of your shallow exhales rippling against his shirt, and the warmth of your cheek pressed against his chest.

He’s about to fall asleep himself, when he feels you shuffling, and oh no, not on his watch. Before the worst can happen, Levi secures his right arm over your shoulder, as to hold you against him. The urge to roll seems to leave you then, the only movement is of your right arm, which you bend at the elbow, now laying your palm against his pecs.

Levi exhales, content. Now he can sleep peacefully. Well, almost. There’s one more thing he likes about this position, and it’s his ability to use his free hand to reach down, scoop under your knee and drape your leg across his waist—and he does so happily; smiling to himself as you subconsciously burrow yourself further into his side.

Much better, Levi thinks, letting his eyelids flutter shut. It was time for bed, after all, and he had a feeling he’d be waking up warm and cozy in the morning.

iii. full contact cuddle: person A sits or lays on their back, while person B rests almost directly on top of them.

“I don’t get why you like this so much,” you say, words mumble, as you shimmy up Levi’s body to lay your cheek against his chest, “How do you possibly benefit from this?”

If you asked Levi, this was probably his favorite way to cuddle. Something about having almost all of your body weight on top of him, your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped completely around you just made him feel warm, and cozy, and content. Plus, the added bonus of you laying directly on top of his dick.

He could say all of that, but instead he opts for a minimal hum, and, a simple, “It’s warm.”

“Yeah, because you’re warm, Levi,” you point out, but burrow into his skin anyway. You’re not exactly complaining, laying on Levi is nice; especially a shirtless Levi, with how warm his body runs. And, well, for other reasons, too.

Once again, you’re met with a non-committal hum. Levi just holds you for a bit, listening for the way your breathing slows and evens out, feeling for signs of your body slowing down against his.

After a while, he shifts his arms, moving so that they’re no longer stacked atop each other, but with his palms both resting against your back, creeping under your shirt. “It’s the weight,” he replies carefully, moving his right hand to rub against your skin, “It feels nice.”

“The weight?” you question, lifting your head to look at him, your chin poking into his chest. Levi looks down to meet your eyes, a small nod in reassurance.

“I can’t… explain it,” he tells you truthfully, “I just like the feeling of you against me. It’s not symbolic or any shit like that, it just, feels good. Sometimes feels like we’re… I don’t know, connected or some shit. I can feel you breathe when I breathe, and all that.”

It’s a poor explanation, and nothing close to what he wants to be able to convey, but you understand him anyways; you always do. You have to hold back your overgrown smile, just barely letting the corners of your lips turn upwards at Levi’s response. You extend your neck briefly to place a short kiss against his jaw, before turning to head to lay back on his chest.

“No, I get it,” you reassure him, snuggling against him for extra measure, “Feels nice to just know you’re there.”

Levi hums in affirmation, his hand squeezing at your waist affectionately—a silent thank you for being able to read between his lines. You lay like that for a while, your exhales tickling against Levi’s bare chest, while his hands massage at your back.

“Besides,” he says, his hands slowly venturing down past your waist; he squeezes at your hips, adjusting you so that your center is directly on top of his, and encouraging you to lift your upper half, so that you’re looking down at him, a full view of the wicked smile on his face, “I kind of have a thing for you being on top of me.”

iv. the seated snuggle: person A sits upright, maybe slouched a bit, while person B cuddles into their side; a hand wrapped around A’s waist or arm, and B’s head resting against A’s shoulder.

Levi likes his alone time, but even when he’s focusing on himself, he’s acutely in tune with you and your emotions. And to be honest with himself, he spends a lot of his alone time thinking about you—consciously or not, you find a way into his brain, and Levi has long since accepted that you’re a permanent, and very welcome presence in his life, one that can be more powerful and enjoyable that his own solitude.

Even when he’s sitting on the couch, right leg bent and tucked under his left at the knee, a book Hange had recommended in his hand, with a shitty hospital drama playing as background noise on the television; even then, when he’s relaxing and enjoying his novel, he purposefully feels out your presence and gauges your emotions.

Though, if you asked him, it shouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to understand that you were feeling a little out of it today—maybe not quite sad, but moving a bit slower, perhaps tired, or annoyed by your day at work—despite the cheery lilt in your voice. But Levi knew, he could feel it, that something was off; but he could also feel that this something wasn’t getting talked about today, or that, perhaps you just didn’t have the words to express it right now.

Levi greets you as he would when you come through the door, tilts his head up when you lean down to give him a kiss, and lets you pad into your bedroom to change and shower. You shuffle around after that, making your way to the kitchen to reheat the dinner he’d cooked earlier, and flitter between your bedroom and the living room after that.

And Levi knows; he knows that you want to talk to him, but that you wouldn’t dare to interrupt his alone-time, because you know how important it is to him. What you fail to understand is that you’re just as, if not more, important to him because you give him space.

So, Levi waits until you’re hovering by the doorway of the living room again, and then, without looking up from his book, silently opens and extends his left arm. He counts three seconds before you come shuffling over to him, wasting no time tucking yourself into his side, and resting your head on his shoulder. Levi hums when he feels your cheek press into his neck, and wraps his arm securely around you.

“Long day?” he questions, eyes still on his book, but reading at a marginally slower pace now.

Your eyes flutter shut at the question, working harder to snuggle yourself into Levi, wrapping your arms around his waist, “The longest.”

Levi hums, finishing his page, and tucking the ear to mark his spot before closing his book. He turns his head to press a kiss into your forehead, and pulls you a little closer against him. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”

v. the times together/pretzel: person A rests with back against a wall/couch/object, and person B mirrors their positions; both A and B’s legs are intertwined, while they look at each other.

Levi will only take a bath after he’s showered, because there’s no appeal in sitting in your own wet dirt. That being said, post-shower baths with you are something he looks forward to, especially after a long, drawn out work week.

You both sit facing each other, legs bent and intertwined, your empty champagne glasses resting on the tiled floor beside the tub. Levi lets you make bubble beards on his face, and smiles as you splash them away and placate it all with a crescendo of kisses.

“I love you,” you smile between presses of your lips, the palms of your hands squishing Levi’s cheeks together—and he just lets you, because he loves you.

Levi thinks it’s his turn now, though he has no interest in bubble beards, or mohawks, simply mirroring your actions to cup your face with his hands, pull you closer, a whisper on your lips.

Wet thumbs pad against your cheeks, and Levi thinks that even like this, with only the flicker of candle flames illuminating your face, that you’re beautiful, and the best thing he’s ever gotten the opportunity to love and care for in his life.

So he lets you know, “And I love you.” And he means it; and you know he does.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #aot fluff #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

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h0neypjm · 3 years

Text

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?”

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.”

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.”

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding.

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.”

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh”

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together.

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown.

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time.

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue.

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered.

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.”

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock.

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue.

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt.

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.”

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion.

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves.

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery.

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon.

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length.

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

#ficswithluv #bangtaninn #bangtanuniversity #bangtansorciere #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts #bts x reader #taehyung fanfic #jimin #jungkook #seokjin #hoseok #namjoon #yoongi #h0neypjm #mine

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queen-of-the-night-lights · 3 years

Text

Beautiful (Omega x Mom!Reader x Bad Batch)

A/N: So, I have been seeing all of these other stories with a few scenes of the reader being a mom towards Omega and then the rest of the story being with a member of the batch. While I love those my brain went “ Give this little girl done love and support” and I came up with this story which is basically Omega and the reader just hanging out by themselves. ( I also left the ending open so you can imagine the batch member of your choosing😉)

Warnings: None/fluff

Plot: The reader does Omegas make-up for the first time.

“ What are you doing?” The young girl asked innocently. She caused you to jump slightly, it has taken a while to get used to a new voice around the ship. “ People on this planet wear a large amount of make-up so I decided to wear some while I go out to get food and supplies. Here I would stand out much more if I didn’t wear any, opposed to if I did.” You explained brushing on some finishing touches. Meanwhile Omega just watched you, she has never seen anything even close to what you were doing, but then again she didn’t know much about anything outside Kamino.

When you finished you turned to the child and asked “ What do you think?” She smiled and said “ It looks good. A little weird because you look a little different, but still good.” She gave a soft chuckle “ Well thank you, I appreciate your honesty.” Just as you were about to put your makeup away Omega chimed in “ Can I try some on?” You turned back to the girl as she gave you a curious and pleading look. With a small smile on your face you approved with a “ Sure. Come sit down.”

You stood up from your vanities chair to let her sit in it hoping it would make her feel special, in some weird way that’s how you thought of the chair. Pulling a stool close so that you could sit while helping her. “ Lets see...” You said studying Omegas face, you didn’t want to put too much makeup on her since this is probably her first time putting anything on her face. While doing this you noticed many qualities she did share with other clones, making Techs statement a few weeks ago resonate with you. She of course was very different from Regs just like the rest of the batch was, but little traits here and there are where you can tell they are related.

“ Okay so, since I don’t want to put too much on you just incase you have a poor reaction to the makeup, we are just going to do yours a little lighter than mine.” You explained and she nodded in acknowledgment before asking “ What do you mean by reaction?” You then explained how some makeup isn’t compatible with people’s skin and how sometimes people have allergic reactions. After noticing the slight nervousness on the kids face you soothed her by telling her that you only use hypoallergenic makeup and the likelihood of her having a reaction would be very low, but you just want to be careful. After that reasoning she seemed to have gone back to her usual curious nature. “ So usually we would start with foundation, that this part that covers the entire face...” you gestured a circle around yours as you continued “ ...but since I don’t have your exact skin tone of foundation , we are going to use this powder.”

Showing her the brush and translucent powder. “ Now let me know at anytime if you are uncomfortable. Then I will stop and we will make sure everything is okay.” With that you started gently brushing the powder along her face. She giggled at first “ It tickles.” You smiled at her adorable laugh “ Yes it does at first, but I need you to try to hold still the best you can okay?” She then nodded and you continued. The brush was big and soft she had never felt anything like it before. It was a nice feeling as you gently brushed and stippled along her face. You then decided to skip the eye shadow primer and things such as that. Those are for another time when you could teach her longer and had more makeup for her to try.

“ Next, I’m going to have you close your eyes and we are going to use this brush with these two colors and put them right on your eyelids. After that I’m going to wet this brush and put a little line of eyeliner on. That’s this around the base of my eyelashes.” You explained closing your own eyes. She smiled and closed her eyes trusting you not to hurt her. You and the boys always made sure that she was comfortable, no matter what. However there was this different feeling she had towards you than with the others. While she trusted them and loved being around them, there was this different kind of feeling of care you gave off. Maybe it was that “mother” feeling the others told her you had. You just seemed to know the right thing to say and how to say it. You also knew exactly what everyone needed when sometimes they didn’t know themselves.

“ (Y/N), can I ask you something?” As you switched colors you replied in a calm yet reassuring tone “ Of course.” “ How did you learn to do makeup?” You smiled at her question as memories started to fill your head. Taking a breath you explained “ I used to watch my mom. My mother she was, beautiful. With or without make up she had the ability it make a transport ship stop in its tracks. She had these two friends and sometimes they would all put their makeup on together before they would go out. They had this setup where they would put all their mirrors, like this one, all together in a row in front of this huge window we had at my family’s house. And from there I would watch them and think ‘ I can not wait until I am old enough to play with this stuff.’ “ As you finished your story you told Omega to open her eyes and instructed her on the next step. “ It’s all coming together now! This next part is a little scary, but I promise I will not poke you in the eye. I’m going to take this mascara wand and gently put this on your eyelashes.” Omega nodded an okay, then you explained “ Okay, I’m going to need to open your eyes really really wide and look right here.”

You pointed right at where your neck meets your collar bone and quickly put on the mascara. You remember how uncomfortable you were the first time you had it put on for you. Omega seemed a little more relieved after you put it on as well. She then blinked and fluttered her eyes as they adjusted to the new sensation. She then looked back up to you with your soft smile still adorned on your face and asked “ Do you think I’m pretty?” A little taken back you then confidently answered “ Yes Omega, you are very pretty. You have these big, round, and bright eyes, a cute nose...” you said giving her a light tap on her nose to emphasize your point. That caused her to scrunch it up and let out a little laugh. “ And you have this amazing smile.”

Omega had a small blush creep on to her face as you complimented her. You can’t imagine her life back on Kamino, even though she probably treated differently from the rest, you knew that her life, her beginning of her childhood must have been hard. Yet she almost always seemed happy. “ Alright here’s where the hard decision comes in, for your lips do you want a solid color or something shiny.” You said holding a lipstick and a lipgloss in each hand. “ Definitely the shiny one.” She said pointing to the one in your right hand.

“ Excellent choice! Now I’m going to ask you to make a really weird faces. Kinda make your lips go like this.” Omega then mimicked the pursing of your lips making sure she was doing it right. You always thought it was cute when she would try to do the same actions as you all did in the ship, her favorite person to mimic was Hunter, but you couldn’t blame her. “ Alright, now we blot. We want to make sure that our lipstick or lipgloss doesn’t stick or wear off to easily.” Grabbing a tissue of the vanity and showing her what you wanted her to do. Making you lips form a line and gently putting them together, but not actually putting the tissue in your mouth.

Once Omega finished you stood up and asked “ Are you ready to take a look?” She nodded her head with excitement and you spun the chair around to have her face the mirror. You saw her eyes widen and get bigger, if that was even possible, as they filled with wonder. A small whisper of her exclaiming “ woah” left her as she looked at the makeup you did. A bit of pride and affection towards the girl swelled in your chest as the girl copied the head tilts you did earlier as you finished your own makeup. “ Beautiful.”

She smiled as she continued to admire your work “ Thank you!” She exclaimed with a beaming smile looking up at you. “ You are very welcome, but you have to remember it is never the makeup that makes you look pretty, it’s how you treat others and what is on the inside that makes you beautiful.” When you finished that statement Omega turned the chair around and gave you a hug. With tears pricking your eyes you hugged her back. You felt bad for everyone that lived on Kamino, you remember the first time you hugged the others and they were a little taken back and confused by the gesture. Omega however was different due to her young age and hugged you quite often. You wished her the best in the galaxy and wanted to protect her and your boys, your family from any danger.

The hugged lasted a while but you didn’t care, what the two of you didn’t know was that someone was watching you from the doorway. His heart swelled at the interaction between the two of you. He wasn’t there long, he had only been standing there a few minuets. Everyone seemed to have changed a little when Omega came on to the team, and while you didn’t change as much as the others your personality amplified. The way you are able to take care of them became more noticeable, you just had this amazing way with all of them and your ability to care so much.

Everything you did was amazing, making sure they we’re rested, making sure that they had eaten, that they didn’t overwork themselves, reassuring them when they had doubts, and giving hope. He started feeling different about you after the first few months of you being with them. Back then he didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling, but now he knew. He had fallen in love with you. Seeing you with Omega assured him that you would always be there with his family and that you wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt them. He wanted a life with you, his brothers, and Omega. No one will ever take that dream away from him, ever.

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