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biolumien · 3 months

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Hi Hi! first time requesting like this and I just recently finished watching the latest episode of Kaiju number 8. I was wondering if your could write something for Vice Captain Hoshina.

I was thinking something along the lines of a reincarnation storyline? Maybe Reader is a renowned painter or something. And one day they come across a dream of Hoshina in their past life and they paint his face. And Hoshina is suddenly bombarded by a few officers/cadets a few days later about a sudden article blowing up online with a painting that had extremely similar structure to his face. And maybe they'd end up meeting because of it?

I love your writing. Particularly the one with the glasses reader that I read a few days back. You're free to change things as you see fit. And I'm sure whatever you come up with will be very nice. Sorry if my words are confusing. I don't speak english language that well. 😊👌 Thank you if you decide to write for this ask.

notes: ok the way i am. actually obsessed with this i hope you enjoy!!

every 'one line' drawn.

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings, i think wc: 1768

in your dreams, you always see the same face. red eyes watching your face, purple hair framed over his face and the feeling of a callused hand on your hand, on your cheek. and every time he leans into kiss you, you find yourself pressing your face closer to his, as if desperate, and then you wake up.

and when you wake up, you always feel the telltale trickle of a tear down your face, the feeling of salt on your tongue.

there’s no time to wonder what the dreams ever mean, what with your job as a painter. you lived commission to commission—and while your customers were always high brow and paid generously, still meant that you couldn’t be lost in daydreams forever.

and in your studio, with the pungent smell of turpentine and linseed oil, with your hands inevitably smeared with oil paints, it was easy to forget the stranger whose hands felt rough and weary, and yet held your face with measured gentleness. it was easy to forget him—up until you went back to bed, and you’d always be back in the same dream.

“i keep seeing you,” you murmur in your dream. “who are you?”

the man laughs.

he seems sad, for a second.

“a dear friend,” he responds. you see it on his face, the way his lips twist at his words, that it’s not quite true. and he leans in again, watching your face. “it’s okay if you don’t remember me.”

“but i do,” you say in protest. you think you remember this face. “i want to.”

you must remember this face, surely—this face that, upon your words, looks sadder. and then you wonder if he’s even real—or if this is simply your subconscious, saddened that you can’t remember. saddened that your mind replays this moment, again and again, a repeated brushstroke pulling open the blank canvas underneath.

“we all want things we can’t have, sometimes,” the man says.

he leans into kiss you,

and you jolt up out of bed, awakening to a phone call from your manager.

“hello…?” you mumble into your phone, pressing it against your cheek as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “it’s rare you call me randomly like this…”

“tis no random call,” your manager responds. “you’ve received a request to exhibit some of your works from a museum. will you do it? i hear the pay’s pretty good.”

“mmm… any specific theme?” you ask.

“not really. they said to let your imagination go wild.”

“hm.”

you touch your lips, and when you close your eyes, you see a hint of those crimson eyes again.

“alright. i think i’ve got a pretty good muse this time,” you say.

[…]

hoshina wasn’t exactly someone who was very in the know about art. his job, for one, meant that it’s not like he would exactly be interested in art in general, and it’s not like he was even spending his days off on art museum trips or admiring the local art scene.

so why was it that everyone seemed all abuzz about art today?

and why did it seem like there were more eyes on him than before? not that he particularly abhorred attention or anything, but the eyes seemed to be looking at his face specifically.

his eyes flit to some of the new officer recruits—iharu, reno, kafka… fuck, even haruichi and aoi? what the hell was going on—huddled around a laptop. haruichi’s brow furrows as he stares at the illuminated screen, and then flits up to look at hoshina. when hoshina stares back, harder, haruichi’s gaze immediately ducks back to the laptop.

okay.

well, something was definitely up.

hoshina strolls over to the recruits, who immediately seem to start panicking—the panic is written across kafka’s face more obviously than the others, and reno elbows kafka in the side.

“what’s all this about? if you’ve got time to huddle you’ve got time to run laps—” hoshina starts, leaning over at the screen before—

“about that, vice captain,” iharu says.

hoshina’s in stunned silence staring at the screen, because… isn’t that—

“holy shit,” hoshina says.

“holy shit indeed,” haruichi says grimly.

on haruichi’s laptop screen is a painting of— him. hoshina’s damned face, brows gentle and a softened smile on his face. it was a beautiful painting, and yet—there was something sad about the smile, the brows belying deep sorrow.

“this painter’s pretty well-known, too, aren’t they?” kafka asks. “for like… the psychedelic stuff.”

“no,” reno says. “they’re like our modern-day monet or something. impressionist paintings.”

“impressi-what? how do you know this much about art, reno?” iharu asks, wrapping his arm around reno’s neck in a headlock. reno coughs, slapping iharu’s arm.

“shut up,” reno chokes out, but even as the bickering picks up, hoshina’s gaze is still transfixed on the painting.

it’s him. no doubt about it.

“i’ve never talked to them before,” hoshina says after a moment. at once the arguments rattle to a halt, but in the empty relief of silence is the carved truth—that the painting is definitely of him, and its painter was a person who he’d never talked to before in his life.

“the artist is going to be doing a panel about their exhibition soon,” haruichi says, glancing up at hoshina. “i think they can get me a ticket if i ask.”

“… just don’t expect me to lighten your laps around the training course,” hoshina says with a chuckle.

[…]

you hated speaking in front of an audience. cliche, of course, the introverted artist that squirrels away in in their studio—but that was often your reality. you liked to say you wanted your work to ‘speak for itself’, as it were, so you didn’t often make public appearances.

but your most recent exhibition, featuring the painting of your mysterious dream visitor, created far more buzz than you could have asked for. suddenly everyone and anyone wanted an answer as for who your muse was, why he had a very striking resemblance to soshiro hoshina of the japan anti-kaiju defense force’s third division, and had you gotten permission from hoshina to do it? did you have a specific message surrounding your work?

“just stick to the script,” your manager says to you. “i talked it through with some of the reporters and i wrote some answers for you if you’re scared.” he hands you a slip of paper, and your eyes scan the page, and you swallow the lump in forming in your throat.

“i shouldn’t have done the painting after all,” you say.

it was strange. in the days and weeks you’d worked on the painting, you hadn’t seen your muse in your dreams at all. you’d been forced to rely on only the memory of the dream–which only seemed to get fuzzier and fuzzier until it became barely a wisp. and now, in those ensuing weeks that the painting has been on exhibition, you almost felt embarrassed of the painting–its vague subject matter might have been charming and a little kitsch, but charming and a little kitsch wasn’t supposed to garner this much attention.

“nonsense,” your manager says. “it’s a wonderful painting.” he pushes you by the back, gently urging you forward. “they’re ready for you.”

you push past the door separating you from the reporters–and then are immediately flashbanged with cameras and lights, and jumbling, layered voices creating a discordant symphony that made you wince.

“um. thank you… for…” you wince as your grip fumbles on your microphone, nearly dropping it, the feedback screeching across speakers. “um. sorry. i’m not exactly the best public speaker–my repertoire of events… like this, isn’t many. but thank you for attending this panel… surrounding my exhibition of my latest work. i’ll answer… a few questions.”

the reporters looked like a jumbled blob for the most part–a thrumming organism of similar faces that melted together into one homogenous mess, a splotch of badly-mixed paint on the palette that you’d scrape away with a knife and discard.

reciting your manager’s written responses wasn’t the hard part. as you continued to banter, your eyes swept across the crowd.

what were you even doing here?

you wanted to crawl back to your studio, already, and go back to painting. at least then the idea that you’d dreamed up some man who bore a striking resemblance to someone who already existed would fade away with time. and then your eyes found that telltale shade of crimson and purple–for just a moment. and you think his eyes meet yours, too–crimson eyes the exact shade as the one in your dreams.

his eyes widen.

“... as you were saying?” a reporter’s words float back to your ears, ephemeral, and you pause.

“can we… no more questions.” you shake your head, finding your vision swimming, blurring, and you raise a hand wiping tears from your face. “sorry. something just… came up–”

and you push into the crowd, trying to find the face from your dreams.

that had to be him, right? his face? it was like as soon as you saw him, the underpainting of your memories flowed back to you–a heartaching loss pounding in your chest. something was wrong. something was missing, because you’d forgotten–and now that you’d remembered it, it hurt.

“i’m sorry,” you say.

“you’ve nothing to be sorry for,” the man says to you, and leans in to kiss you. “i’ll find you again in the next life.”

“i’ll remember you,” you say.

the man watches you, a somewhat sad look on his face.

you press your thumb to the corner of his lip.

“and when i do, i’ll do something big. to capture your attention. and then your eyes will be on me forever.”

you finally manage to catch the man in the crowd, and you realize you’ve seen him before. only once or twice, though–on a small poster or on television. soshiro hoshina, of the third division. you did know this man–but just barely.

he lets out a surprised noise as soon as you collide with him, and you gasp breathlessly.

“i’m sorry,” you say, looking up at hoshina. “i just… have we…”

“met?” hoshina answers your question, cocking his head, blinking down at you.

“yes,” you say. “i think… i think so. maybe. we… you look familiar.”

hoshina blinks, and then smiles.

it’s so different than the way he smiled at you in your dream. the corners of his lips quirk up, his eyebrows relax almost as he watches you.

“i thought so too,” hoshina says, and you hear relief in his voice. “so… um. hi.”

“hi,” you respond, and he laughs.

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader

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sordidmusings · 8 months

Text

Give (in) and Take (me) - (Beckman x Reader)

Art by shibama_TK9

A/N: *Hasn’t completed a smut in weeks, comes back throwing a niche character at you to spread simpin for him like a virus* plz love him he’s great and while he ain’t my main I’d have nooooooo complaints in partaking 😩 tryin to give @fanaticsnail some morsels cuz the writing for this man is quite devastatingly scant. She also a whole sweetie and wrote me some perfect Buggy when she found out I was doing this. Obviously I am much slower 🥴🥴🥴

Word Count: ~8.7k

Warnings: fem!reader, NSFW, there’s some plot at the front and back, bratty reader, brat-tamer Beckman, he does the Nanami hair grab 👌🏻, semi-public, standing, against the wall, man-handling, clothed sex, p in v, creampie, praise, degredation, lots of teasing on both sides, age gap? (briefly mentioned, ~30 and late 40s), Beckman is a lil mean but don't worry he's Whipped, this some filth filth 🥴 whoops

Now please come enjoy prodding the big gruff man (who just wants to treat you right) until he snaps

(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

You’ve had enough of the raucous jubilation in the bar, especially now that you noticed your awaited opening unfolding before you. The rest of the Red Hair Pirates were fully distracted in their jovial whirling, hooting, and playing, leaving a certain silver smoke cloud all by his lonesome. You’d been dancing through his whisps all night, enjoying how they’d wrap and curl around you as you went. It was in their nature to do so. Each brush of a hand got a shiver and a sigh and a trailing stare. Each floated conversation was leaned into, breathed in, savored. Each departure was followed with the turn and lean of his chest, pulled to follow from the sure grip on his thumping heart until his doubts rooted him down and resisted the tug.

You were plagued by your own doubts, mostly of what the “after” would look like, but you were certain of one thing: he was attracted. Along with his need to entwine with your presence, you’d noticed the tell-tale sign of his gaze drawn to lips, neck, breasts, hips, and thighs. You’d noticed the hunger growing his pupils so they could better suck in your image on each glance. You’d noticed how he had to keep flicking his tongue out to wet his lips, mouth dry from restrained need. Most importantly, you’d noticed the way he had to shift and shuffle while he watched you dance, fighting the need to pull you away for himself to join and trying to flush the heat from his body. Whatever it was that was holding him in his seat and keeping his hands and lips and tongue off of you, you were going to drag him right through it until he was fully in your grasp.

First thing’s first, you retook your spot on the stool next to him at the bar. Immediately the smoke tendrils embraced you; your drink was scooted back in front of you, his thigh slid sideways to seek the brush of yours, a lethargic smile took residence on his face to greet you. You responded with a coy smile of your own and then a hearty gulp of your drink. The steady burn and potent taste of liquorice cutting through the muddled mint and lemon centered you and heartened you for your plan of attack.

“Thanks, Becks, glad to have you as my cocktail guard dog,” you said with teasing humor. You gave his thigh a friendly pat that crossed the amicable boundary with a lingering hold and gentle squeeze, before you brought the hand back up to give you another sip of your drink. The taste of touch on his thick muscle had it twitch in delight. Your mouth watered at the feel, not quite sated with alcohol on your tongue when there should be skin.

“Any time, darlin’,” Beckman responded easily and honestly. “Though I don’t think there’s any here who would do much to it. Much more likely one of the fools will steal it to drink for themselves.”

You laughed at the statement, knowing how true it was. When the crew was drunk they got sticky fingers, and when it came to drinks they were the worst - none quite remembering whose was whose and caring even less to get it right. Knowing where you wanted to try and get this night to go, you’d kept yourself far behind them in intoxication. You kept yourself right in the sweet spot of inebriated enough for that coveted liquid courage but not so much that you were out of control of yourself. Besides, if you got your way you didn’t want any of the details to be foggy.

“Even so, it’s appreciated,” you reasserted, giving him a winning smile and stalling his heart. “Now can I ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course you can, darlin’,” he replied instantly. Another cheer rang out in the background, followed by the beginnings of a long and loud drinking song. Beckman used this as an excuse to lean into your space to better hear and see you. “What can I do for you?”

You centered yourself more forward towards the bar, just to force him to lean in even closer to chase you, and peeked at him from the corner of your eye. The look mixed with your mischievous smile had him ready and eager to agree to whatever you had in mind. Not that he’d let you see how easy it was for you to sway him.

“Well…” you trailed off, just to make him squirm, “I can think of lots of things you could do for me. I’m having trouble picking my favorite.”

Beckman’s brows rose at the blatant flirting. Sure, you’d both thrown some flirtatious comments at each other throughout your relationship, but they didn’t feel anything like this. They felt easy, friendly - like something to build rapport and have fun. This felt so much heavier - a gift offered to him that was pulling the possibility of closeness from cloudy dreams down to the ground with the weight of the warm cast of the bar lights, the dark desire in your eyes, and the sultry tone of your voice. He began to recount how many drinks he’d had to check if he was imagining the advances he’d long wished for. Maybe he should check for you too.

“Darlin’, how many drinks you got in you?” There was genuine concern in the question, mixing with a touch of incredulity. You scoffed at it all.

“Not enough to lose my sense, thank you very much,” you answered. To snub his misplaced worries, you downed the rest of your drink. “That was only the fifth of the night, we’ve been here hours, and you know it takes much more than that to take me down.”

“That it does,” Beckmann conceded. The bare affection in his voice and eyes while he said it had you flushing, finding care much more difficult to process than lust. “Now my task?”

Yet again, you took to keeping him in suspense. Instead of answering, you slowly drew your gaze over him, assessing him. He fought against the small shiver it put through him; he felt like you were staring straight through his clothes. He felt like he was getting the most important appraisal of his life and all he had to go on was the burning in your eyes and your cryptic smile. You were doing a better job of reading him; while his expression remained perfectly schooled, you were observant enough to see his tells. Just as when he watched you dance, he shifted in his seat, working through the flush of arousal poured on him from his nervousness and having your eyes glued to him. Between the curtains of his wavy silver hair, you saw his Adam's apple bob with a strong swallow. He started lightly drumming on the bartop with his fingers on the hand closest to you.

Using that to your advantage, you made your next move. Doing it slowly so he could layer each second with his anticipation, you trailed your fingertips across the knuckles of his fidgeting hand, halting the motion. You flicked your gaze up to check in on his eyes. They mostly held confusion, but so so much interest was also packed into his silver irises. Happy with the reaction, you proceeded to move your teasing touch further, traveling over the back of his hand and his wrist to play with the soft hair on his forearm in deliberate circles. Though he was nearly bursting with questions, Beckman kept his mouth shut and resolved to let you lead this at your own pace until you finally decided it was time to reveal your hand to him.

“I’ve decided,” you started, finally breaking the silence with an alluring whisper, “that I want more than one favor.” You stopped watching your fingers touch him to look at him through your lashes. “And I know where you can start.”

Beckman blew out a long breath, hoping to settle down his heart, which was still jumping and kicking. You’re not drunk, but this has to be the alcohol. You couldn’t be propositioning him. Him. Maybe he’s just a curiosity? Perhaps you were interested in trying out an experience with an older lover who’s had more years to learn his way around a woman? Maybe, even though you could have your choice of any of the patrons, you found him to be the easy target.

“And where is that?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone steady.

“You can take me home.” You noticed the real shock in his gaze, and for the first time in the encounter a bit of panic seeped into you. Thinking quickly to soften the blow, you explained, “Don’t wanna walk home alone with even a little alcohol in me, and I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Aye, darlin’, that I will.” The honesty in his words stoked your courage back into a steady burn even better than the one brought on by the hard drinks.

Using the hand that had been trailing over his forearm, you loosely held his wrist, slid smoothly from your seat, and began leading him out of the bar. Beckman followed you easily. You didn’t have to put any pressure behind your hold on him; he wouldn’t let you get more than a step ahead of him. Even with his close hover, you both ducked and weaved with practiced grace through the chaos of your crew and the rowdy celebration they’d whipped up with all the other patrons. By the time you’d reached the entrance, you’d ducked three swinging fists, five drunken “dances”, two frisbeed hats, one flung fork, and a pair of tossed shirts.

The door shutting behind you sealed away the cacophony of the crowd, melding it with the comforting ambience of late night bugsong and strangers distantly living their lives. The outside world felt pleasantly chill and calm, especially in contrast to the atmosphere of the bar. The slight bite to the air only made the small contact between the two of you feel that much sweeter in its skin-to-skin warmth. Both you and Beckman sucked in a deep breath of crisp evening air to savor the moment.

Throwing a cheeky (and, to his worry, slightly plotting) smile his way, you began to head in the direction of the docks. You only made it about eight steps. The moment the alley between buildings opened on your right, you yanked Beckman into the shadows with you. He stumbled after you with barely a fight, continuing his emotional flavors of the night: confused, intrigued, and happy to be here. Once you fell past the full streams of light from the street lamps, you spun around to him and pounced.

You began by rooting him in place, fisting your hands tight into his shirt by his waist and stepping so close that your chests and stomachs and hips and thighs touched. You leaned up to place a kiss right above the point in his v-neck, relishing the heat of his skin against your lips. You shivered at the feeling of a twitch of interest against your lower stomach. His hands quickly found your waist and gripped. He worried the flesh under his fingers, earning his first quiet moan from you. It only made his grip stiffen, warring with himself between his disbelief at your advances and the rabid need to pull you closer and make sure you never stopped.

Beckman began to use his hold on you to ease you back from him. You responded with a frustrated whine and greedy hands. Those hands massaged their way across the packed muscles of his sides and chest before twisting in the fabric over his large pecs and tugging him down to your height. Taking advantage of the untouched skin now within reach, you kissed and sucked your way over his collarbone and up his neck.

His plan of retreat crumbled under your advance, leaving him to paw his grip down to the meat of your hips and try not to succumb to the fierce instinct to grind his aching cock against you. Your head spun with your rushing blood and skipping breaths. The whirl was spurred on by finally getting to know the taste of his skin, the feeling of his coveting hands keeping you close, the sound of his stuttering breaths morphing into panting. Now you just needed to spur him from receiving into action.

“Beck, touch me,” you whispered against his ear. He shivered fully from your lips and breath ghosting over him and filling his skin with addictive tingles. Losing his concentration, Beckman guided your hips in one long, sturdy grind against his straining hardness. You nipped his earlobe in appreciation. “I want you to touch me.”

“You’re drunk,” he weakly protested.

“We both know I’m not,” you shot back. Switching your methods, you crawled your hands up his shoulders, his neck, and into his hair. You led him with sweet and teasing kisses against his cheek and jaw, playing with the way his head always tilted to follow your affections in a wanting daze.

“You should look for another man to share your body,” he tried again, this time managing to sound assertive through the breathiness of his voice.

“Do you really want another man touching me?” you bit back at him.

“No,” he instantly growled. The mere idea had always put a pang in his heart but feeling your touch and hearing the words from you made it more real, and he was no match for the spike of angry possessiveness that overtook him.

“Good,” you cooed coyly, lips back against his ear, “because I don’t want that either.” You took a long moment to tease your nails against his scalp and nip the skin next to his pulse. He succumbed to another torturous grind against you. Each press of him gave you a better idea of what he was hiding and had your mind running rampant trying to figure out how it would feel splitting you open.

“I want you,” you moaned, pushing all the genuine need into your voice that you could.

“Come on, pretty thing, you don’t mean that,” Beckman stubbornly argued. He’d sound much more convincing if he wasn’t moaning the words out with his strained rumble, turning the statement into a plea.

“I do though,” you whined back to him, right below his ear where you were working hard to leave another pretty mark. For all his propriety fueled hesitation, Beckman was still leaning down so you could reach his neck and tilting his stubbled jaw away, pleading for more of your attention. “I do mean it.”

Your own desperation and his unspoken pleas for your touch fueled your boldness. One of your hands left his tresses to wedge between your pressed hips and grab a hold of him. A groan shook through his ribs, only encouraging your hand to press and feel more. His cock twitched and jumped under your slow strokes and palming, begging for your touch when he wouldn’t. His cheek fell to your shoulder and his humid panting caressed your neck.

“Pretty girl, if you keep touching me like that,” his speech was interrupted by a poorly restrained moan, “I’m not gonna be able to keep my head.”

“Then don’t,” you encouraged, voice rushed and ravenous and pulling him to the depths of his urges in his new favorite siren song.

Having felt him in your palm, you became set on getting to feel him skin to skin. You wanted to feel the power of the radiant heat that poured from him so strongly you both felt like you were burning through your clothes. You wanted to see what’s been hidden from you, become privy to secrets that will let your fantasies forever hold more reality. You wanted to know he let you have this piece of him, let you take his body and take control of his pleasure. On top of all of that, you wanted to feel, see, and know the thick hardness that was going to stretch you wide open.

In your rush, you only gave yourself time to trail a few kisses down his chest on your way to your knees. Beckman leaned himself back on the wall of the bar, opening himself up to as much of your touch as you would give. He still attempted to keep his defense under the siege of temptation, taking to opening and closing his hands at his sides to keep them from manhandling you. He wasn’t strong enough, however, to push you away. Each touch of yours was teasing him with the heaven he’d been dreaming of finding under your hands and in your body. Now having had a taste of your touch, It’d take nothing short of a gun to the head for him to break from anything you were willing to give. Doesn’t mean he won’t try to steer it so you’re taken care of the way he wants you to be.

He looked down at you, hypnotized by the radiant image of you and your styled hair and your decorated lashes and your smudged lipstick actually kissing him, treating him with the desire he thought impossible. His eyes had long adjusted to the darkness of the alley, blessedly letting him take in this image to hoard forever.

As your knees hit the dirt path, it hit him - alley. You were getting yourself dirty to touch him, basically in public in your rush, stuck in a location with only hard ground and stone walls for comfort. The realization had his cock throb hard, getting an eager moan from you where you were kissing along his length while your fingers made their way under his sash to find the waistline of his trousers. Fuck, this was a dream. It was a dream, but not the one he wanted for you where he takes his time worshiping every inch of skin, treating you like royalty, going slow so when he makes you cum it shakes you from toes to fingertips to the crown of your head-

“Darlin’, you deserve better than some back alley fu-”

“What I deserve is you; now let me have you,” you grumbled back to him, nosing his sash up so you could leave kisses and nips right above the hem of his pants. You inched them lower and lower, following their descent with your hungry mouth and savoring every new speck of skin you could. You got past the ridge of his adonis belt when you realized he had nothing on underneath them, making your mouth water with ever more anticipation. You could tell from the tenseness in his muscles, the tremors in his thighs under your clawing grip, that he was at the end of his rope. Centering a kiss on his happy trail, you looked straight up into his eyes and ordered, “Now fuck me.”

You were just about to get his pants low enough to let his painfully hard cock out to greet with a kiss when an angry hand took hold of the hair at the back of your head. It clamped in a fist and turned, taking absolute control of you. White hot adrenaline poured through your body, bursting fresh with each hard pound of your heart and stuttering your every breath. That iron grip jerked back, forcing you to crane your head back with it and look up at the imposing bulk of Beckman looming over at you.

“You want me to fuck you?” he growled dangerously, leering down at you with a growing scowl. Steadily he curled himself down until his nose bumped yours and you were sure you could see how the lighting and lust had turned his eyes from shining silver to dark stone. The light pulsing in your scalp was no match for the shadowed face and piercing eyes of Beckman taking over your every thought and dragging your heartbeat low to drum between your legs. “Fine. I’ll fuck you like the slut you’re set on being.”

“I’ll happily be a slut if it's for you,” you breathed out before you could think, sounding nearly in a trance from his sudden dominant behavior.

The declaration had his cock jumping and his knees weak.

“Darlin’,” he moaned, voice stretched thin by his taut, straining need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He surged down, stealing your lips in a bruising kiss, using his hold on your hair to control every tilt and press. Right away, you opened to each other, exploring the flavor of each other’s tongues and indulging in the tingles brought on by sliding the slick muscles over each other. You shivered and moaned when he flicked the point of his tongue on the roof of your mouth and he swallowed the sound down greedily. Never breaking his claim on your lips, Beckman hauled you up to your feet. The action set a pleasant burn on your scalp as you chase the pull of his grip. Your hands went back to work on getting his cock free, but he snatched them up.

“No,” he rumbled against your lips. “You’re just going to take what I give you.”

“Beckman,” you whined back to him between your continued fervent kisses, “let me touch you.”

“Sluts don’t make demands,” he snapped in a bitter taunt. Using his height to his advantage, he pulled out of the reach of your lips. He was still able to lean down over you and keep distance, forcing you to keep your head craned back with his fist in your hair and his gaze holding you hostage. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I want you,” you moaned in complaint. Though your voice was warbly with want, your tone was way too petulant to be considered begging. Even so, it was testing his resolve.

“You’ll have me,” he answered gruffly.

Before you could realize what was happening, you were flipped around and swapped, now facing the rough wall of the bar with Beckman right behind you. He had released your hair so he could trap each of your wrists to your sides. He kicked your feet to spread with heavy boots and settled eagerly against your ass. He anchored you against him by pulling on your wrists, keeping you trapped against his grinding hips. The height difference had him centered at the level of your tailbone. The feeling of having you against his cock was overwhelming, especially with the plush of your ass massaging at his sensitive balls. Quiet grunts accompanied each circle of his hips, always carried with the erotic sound of his heavy breaths.

You tilted forward and arched your hips up, seeking attention against your weeping entrance and swollen clit. The change had his dick nestle between your cheeks, the base of his cock and his tense balls giving you a small piece of the pleasure you were seeking. He stood just barely too tall for them to give any attention to your clit, causing you to shift and shimmy back into him in search of more. Despite the lack of direct stimulation, your body was still in a pleasant buzz; he felt large and heavy and hot against you and your mind was swimming in joy at how hard you made him. The open-mouthed groan you earned from him with your squirming shot enough pleasure through you to have your clit pulsing.

“On your toes, slut,” he ordered.

You listened without thinking about it and were rewarded with the new height lining him up much better to grind against everywhere you wanted him. Well - almost everywhere. Most of all you ached for him to massage you inside out, rub and dig into every slick plush space you could offer. Despite the burn already entering your calves, you tilted your ass up even higher to feel any extra speck of friction you could get from him.

Beckman’s grip on your hips was commanding, he owned your every sway and grind of your clothed cunt and ass against him. The skirt you were wearing was beginning to ride up with each thrust, exposing inch after inch of fresh skin to his hungry eyes. Both of you thanked your choice of garment as he used one hand to shove it up and over your perked ass to hang limply around your waist. It swayed and brushed your legs with each continued motion, hypnotizing Beckman for a moment.

That moment was broken when he instead looked at your ass, smooshed high and round with each grind, your underwear cutting sinful lines across the muscle, making your skin pop around the tension in the most mouth-watering way. It had Beckman moaning from deep in his chest again and thanking whatever lucky stars he had that let him have you in front of him like this. The sight mixed with the new heat from being just that much closer to getting to your bare cunt had a flurry of possessiveness and need overcome him. He nearly bowed forward to the strength of it, but fought the call so he could keep watching your body writhe against him.

You had no doubt you were sopping wet, more than enough to make his slide in slick. Each grind of him against you had your soaked panties dragging with him, causing sharp friction that was just on the right side of too much. You wondered faintly if you were getting his pants wet too, wishing you could easily turn and see to find out. You wouldn’t have been disappointed; a steady dark spot had built on his crotch from a mix of your leaking pussy and his weeping cock. You had gotten him dripping pre-cum the moment you began kissing down his chest. It had only gotten worse with each touch, his body desperate and ready to be inside you.

Suddenly, one of his hands and his hips disappeared from you, leaving you feeling lost. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a whining moan at the loss, sounding fucked out and pathetic without either of you truly being touched yet. The small coherent part of yourself marveled at the number he had done on you.

“Don’t you worry, pretty thing,” Beckman grumbled, half placating and half condescending. The sound of shuffling fabric clued you in to his missing hand’s task. “I’ll give you just what you need.”

His large fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear, guiding them over your ass until they fell down. Your slightly spread legs had them catch on your thighs and Beckman huffed at the inconvenience.

“Stay right there,” he rumbled in warning as he crouched down. He dragged the soaked cloth the rest of the way off, guiding you with gentle cues. The slide of his fingertips down your legs sent tingles across your skin, but the delicate hold he put on each ankle to ease them out of the garment had your heart thumping. In this process his touch switched from tyrannical to reverent, making your mind sing with hope. That song only hit a great crescendo when he peppered the backs of your thighs with sweet and slow kisses.

As he rose back up and shoved the ruined cloth in his pocket, Beckman broke you both out of his worshiping trance by giving a playful and slightly mean nip to your left hip. You let out a little yelp despite yourself and he chuckled at the reaction, finding it absurdly cute. You shivered again at the throaty sound, nerves too easily tweaked from your potent anticipation. It only got worse when his hips found yours again.

Both of you moaned at the feeling of finally meeting skin to skin, immediately addicted to the wet heat and heady throb of each other. You sent your hips high with renewed vigor, spurred on by the need to chase more of the feeling of his thick cock against you. You were right about him being thick and long; his grinds spread your folds wide, exposing your entrance and clit to the sweet friction, and he laid across the length of your pelvis. It let him see the leaking red head of his cock peeking out from between your cheeks, the filthy image making his eyes roll back and an involuntary moan of “fuck, darlin’” growl out of him.

Beckman hooked his right arm around your front, nestling it as close to the tops of your thighs as he could get. It let him use your hip bones for stability in his hold, saving you from your weight crushing the limb into your stomach. The anticipation of feeling your legs bounce against his arm while he fucks you had him salivating.

He curled his arm, pulling your lower back flush to his abs. It made him take your weight, the toes of your shoes just barely scuffing the ground when you pointed them. You’d seen his insane strength before, but feeling it used on you had your body lighting on fire along with your cheering mind. Beckman’s other hand slid from your hip down and in on your thigh, spreading and lifting your leg until he was holding the inside of your knee out to the side. It left your cunt exposed to him, each grind of his further mixing your arousal with the pre-cum spreading down his cock.

“Hold that wall and keep your voice down,” Beckman instructed, “Unless you’re such a whore you need an audience.”

You let out a complaining moan at the harsh words but still writhed eagerly against him, unable to deny how they had you fluttering in anticipation. Your hands found purchase on the stone wall in front of you, giving you a sense of balance and security in your barely supported upper body. You were close to it so your arms were bent, allowing you strength and leverage. The force behind his grinds had you sure you’d need it.

Slowly and deliberately, Beckman slid his cock from root to tip between your slick folds, threatening you with his impressive length while he made sure he was properly coated. He only stalled the movement when his thick tip found its way down to your entrance. Unable to help himself, he ground a tight circle around it, groaning out a deep “fuck” at the feeling of your cunt trying its best to suck him in. You let out another keening moan, sounding vaguely like “please”, at the realization that his head was the perfect width to stretch you out right to the edge of your limits.

Angling his hips just right, Beckman followed the catch of your entrance to start forcing his way into you. You were right about the size of him; only his mushroomed tip was in and you already felt like your hips were being pressed wider. His achingly slow sink into you let you both feel every overwhelming bit of contact, every delicious rub of soaked skin on skin. Your mouth hung open, letting out appreciative moans, even though your attempts to hold them back left them clipped and jumbled.

Beckman had to shut his eyes and scrunch his brow to handle all the sensations flooding him. You felt so goddamn perfect wrapped around him. He felt somewhere in his being that you were made to be here with each other and force bliss from your pounding hearts and bodies. He finally fell to the call to curl as close to you as possible, his temple rested on yours, his stubble teasing your cheek, and stray gray hairs sweeping down to tickle your skin.

“So, so good, darlin’,” he praised breathlessly. He made it another inch into you, offering your cunt more firm flesh to clamp down on. “You feel better than a dream -nnngh- got the perfect pussy for me.”

An unrestrained moan tumbled past your lips at his praise, brain too empty and body too happy to care about anything anymore other than him and the feelings he brought out in you. The cheering and music from the bar was loud enough to lightly leak through the walls, so you wouldn’t have worried too much about attracting attention anyway.

He hadn’t prepped you any, but the abundant arousal sitting in your body so long loosened you up and made sure there was more than enough lubrication for him, especially with the addition of his own. His torturously slow press into you helped your body make room for him too. In fact, your pussy was so eager to open for him he felt like your walls were trying to suck him in quicker as they quaked and trembled around him. It made it near impossible to resist the urge to shove as deep into you as he could go, needing the hot grip of you around his aching cock and the pleasure of your plush ass and thighs pressed tight against his hips.

When he finally got there, you were both shaking and gasping. Your head felt light with the amount of bliss swimming through you at finally having him like this, held tightly in you while you shared your bodies. It also helped that he had you feeling so deliciously full; the press of him was potent enough to spread through your sides and up through your chest. It was the biggest stretch you’d taken but his size was just perfect, like he was built just to fit you and you him. The weight of his thick cock rested down towards your stomach, primed to massage your every favorite nerve.

“Just like that, darlin’,” Beckman groaned, starting his first pull back out of you. He continued with his slow speed to make you feel every ridge and vein in detail. Your favorite was the rim of his head dragging across your swollen walls. He sat that head just within your entrance and paused. “Bein’ such a good little slut.”

Right at the end of his praise, he shoved forward to fully sheathe himself back in you. The force of the thrust pressed the air from your lungs, creating a breathy moan, and gave you a taste of pleasure that had you certain that no matter how long he fucked you, you’d always want more of this potent bliss. You could live like this, fucked the rest of your life, just so long as he never stopped taking and touching you. He continued the strong and steady pace, needing to savor every second in your cunt, memorize every twitch and flutter. It had you whining, mind fraying under the threat of how much more he could give you.

“Beckman,” you moaned in frustration. “Give me more, I -ahhh- I need it.”

A punishing thrust had you feel him in your throat and your eyes rolled back in time with your high pitched moan. That moan turned into a rough whine when he stayed sat fully inside you instead of continuing. To tease you further, he began tight circles against you, making his pulsing cock play with every inch of your cunt, earning him a tight clench from you. This tantalizing rub continued as he moved to nip at your ear lobe.

“What did I say about making demands,” he warned, rumbling the words right against your ear. The puffs of his breaths shot goose bumps up your neck. He tilted his head down to tease his teeth over the flesh and continued his maddening little circles against you. With one leg trapped in his grip and the other barely reaching the ground, you had almost no leverage to work yourself back against him. Your abs burned with the effort as you tried to use your grip on the wall to stabilize yourself and grind back, but his iron grip was much stronger than any of your attempts.

You sobbed out a few needy moans at his continued meticulous playing with your body. Though you wanted so much more right away, that steady press of him waking up every inch of your insides was starting to build a pit deeper in your stomach than the one you were used to. Your mouth watered at the thought of what a full body high it could bring you but it felt so far away and you wanted to be smothered in pleasure now.

“Beckman,” you whined out, catching the way it made his breath hitch over your skin. “More, harder.”

Nothing changed and you were stuck spread open and suspended and at the mercy of his whims. It was the most deliciously frustrating thing you’d ever experienced, being forced to take the slow treatment. It made your body and mind agonize over every little sensation, every pulse and throb, every inch of you he reached that you’d never felt before. It made your ears take in the obscene sound of the little motions of his cock pushing drop after drop of your arousal out of your entrance to drip down his balls and your thigh. You flushed at how graphic it sounded, ears, face, and neck burning, especially with your combined heavy breaths and mixed moans and groans.

“You’re gonna have to try much harder than that, pretty little thing,” he goaded. You could hear the taunting condescension in his voice and you cursed the fact that it made your pussy spasm around him. The twitch of his cock that it earned inside you swelled your desperation to feel more from him until it swallowed your pride whole.

“Please,” you gasped, near truly sobbing in need. “Pleeeeease, fuck me harder, Beck, fuck me faster, please, just -hhhah- just need more.”

Beckman sucked harshly on your neck and set about answering your pleas. He changed right to fucking you fast and hard, making you yelp at the immediate flood of sensation. Your thigh and hips jumped in his grasp as you tried to take the onslaught. Every nerve in your pussy burned in the most beautiful way, emptying your head of any thoughts other than Beckman working your body into a quick frenzy. His teeth, lips, and tongue were decorating the sensitive skin of your neck; his hands and arm were clamped, making you feel blessedly trapped; his torso hovered on the back of yours, giving you brushes of his hard working muscles in motion; and his cock - his perfect cock - was bullying you open over and over and lighting every quaking inch of you ablaze.

Through your panting breaths and scattered moans, you could hear the wet slap of his hips against you, each impact making a little more arousal gush out of you. Being spread as you were also let his heavy balls tap against your clit with each hard thrust, ensuring every wired part of your pussy was seen to. You could barely form words but you were sure he caught the slurred praises you sent his way from how he echoed them back and kept adding more and more heat, pressure, grind, suck, and drag on you at your breathless moaning.

Stuck on the start of the encounter, he kept repeating a favored phrase to you - “So good, darlin’, such a good fucking slut”.

“Your slut,” you panted, “only -hnngh- yours.”

The pledge of ownership had his eyes rolling back and his mouth more ravenous against your skin. He needed to keep you locked to him forever, be on your skin forever, brand you as his, and have you mark him as yours.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he rasped, “only mine.”

He dropped your suspended thigh in favor of sinking a bruising grip into your hip. Your thighs clapped together with a wet smack, forcing a yelp from you as it jolted your clit. He placed an apologetic kiss on your shoulder and got right back to his tempo. The deep pressure he’d built with his deliberate grinding was now added to by every thrust, creating a shaking warning of the orgasm to come that sat from hip to hip and up to your ribs. It felt like he was fucking you just as deep, each drive of his cock seeming to replace the beating of your heart in your chest.

The new dancing on your toes had your calves, thighs, and abs working in sporadic clenches and twitches, the jerks and shifts causing pulses around your clit and into your trembling cunt. The new position made him feel all the wider as it let your labia relax around him and light up with delicious friction on each thrust in and pull out. The squeeze of your legs and muscles also put constant pressure on your clit, which Beckman would jostle with each forceful fuck into you.

All of it was getting to be too much and you were happily drowning under the rising tide of that threatening orgasm. It was swimming through your body so thoroughly you were sure you could feel each strong thrust pull pleasure from your very bones. Every piece of you that lived between your hips felt blinding white hot and pulsing and alive and so so very good.

The cherry on top of your euphoria were the pieces of the feeling you could hear echoed in Beckman. His voice was deep and groaning but also strained and fucked out as it whispered dark praises against your neck and shoulder. His breath was ragged and just as desperate as his touch, which was trying its best to permanently attach to your skin. His aching cock was just as responsive as your trembling pussy, dripping and twitching and jumping with each move and touch of your body.

Responding to the telling grip of your cunt clamping down constantly around him, Beckman slowed his pace slightly, focusing instead on the strength of each thrust and keeping his angle just right to drag you to your end. It accented the sound of each strong clap of his hips into yours and brought back clarity to the feeling of his thick cock spearing you. Your mouth hung open, panting and watering from the change of pace and unending pound and pull of him fucking your cunt into the shape of him.

“Beckman, Beckman, Beckman -ahh!- so cloooose,” you cried, voice thin and desperate. He cursed and moaned in response, the sound of you nearly making him lose himself and cum before you. He kept his pace pounding into you, each firm fuck lighting up your tightening walls and bouncing through your swollen folds and thighs to drum on your clit. Your head was swimming; despite your fast and canting breaths, you felt like you couldn't breathe, the air escaping you with each thrust beating a needy moan from your open mouth. The burn for oxygen only added to the tightly wound pleasure gripping you from throat to cunt, clawing tightest from your hips in, held steady between his sturdy hands.

Your toes and fingers tingled numbly in anticipation and shook just like the rest of you. Instinct tilted your hips just a degree higher, letting the tip of his dick tap just so against your cervix, ramping the overwhelming build even higher than you thought possible. Your moans yelped out sharper and higher amid sobs of “don’t stop, don’t stop, pleeeeease”, making Beckman groan and curse in his own mind-numbing arousal and frantic fight not to cum first.

A few more thrusts blazing across your cunt and shaking deep in your gut had the tension finally burst. You felt it first in the shot of electricity from your clit down to your toes and up to your buzzing head, before the tight pulse of your muscles took over everything. You writhed and shook against Beckman as he held you like a lifeline, trying desperately to fuck you through every second of heaven you could feel instead of following you over the edge. Each jerk and clench of your body gave you more and more bliss, the squeeze of you so tight and sure that it felt like there was only room for Beckman’s large cock in your body.

He couldn’t manage to pull even an inch out of your cunt, too weak to deny himself the bliss of feeling you cum, so he guided you through with shallow but heavy thrusts. Each tap on your cervix swelled you more and more until you weren’t sure if you had already cum or there was something else building on the other side of this endless screaming song in your nerves. Your answer came with the feeling of a snap that switched your cunt from long pulses into frantic milking down on Beckman’s jolting cock. Each squeeze was powerful enough to cause a full jerk and shudder of your hips, having you slip and grind in Beckman’s clawing hold on your hips.

“Fuck, darlin’, sweetheart, fu-uuuck, you’re too good, too much -ngah!- so goddamn perfect,” Beckman moaned out a stream of mindless praises while he shoved his forehead into the side of your neck, your only anchor in the torrent of sensation ripping through your body. After an eternity, your muscles and nerves began to relax, leaving your body feeling limp and heavy in the wake of your pleasure. You were positive nothing worked anymore except for your clit and cunt, both still drooling and twitching over Beckman’s shallow thrusts. You were thankful your closed legs kept the attention from overstimulating you fully. Beckam felt your body relax, getting an addicting sense of pride from fucking you into a limp puddle, and finally took to chasing his own pleasure.

“Need to see you,” he gasped, flipping you around and desperately pressing his twitching cock back into you. He shuddered at the relief, feeling ravenous and untethered every second he couldn’t be inside you. All his sanity was now held in the taste of your skin, the pleasure in your voice, and the sweet clench of your plush cunt. Pressing your foreheads together, he made it impossible to look anywhere but at each other. Even in the low light that managed to sneak between the buildings with you, Beckman’s silver eyes glowed while taking you in. The color looked sharper pressed thin by his lust-blown pupils and you were hypnotized as his gaze swallowed you whole.

Seeing the needy scrunch of his brows and the way he switched back and forth between clenching his jaw and hanging his mouth open to moan freely sent fresh sparks straight down to your clit. Having your legs spread around him had his racing thrusts teetering you on the edge of overstimulation, but it was well worth the sight and feeling of him rabidly chasing down his pleasure in your cunt. He was mindless and rutting in his need, enjoying your sopping heat contrasting with your nails scrabbling for purchase on his broad shoulders. The hug of your thighs around his waist kept him close and added to the wondrously tight clench of you that seemed to spread over his whole body. He was so, so close he just needed one little nudge.

“Beckman, please, need you -hahhn- need you to cum in me,” you begged, tone broken from all your moaning.

He was kicked right over the edge, barking out a deep “fuck” at the power of the orgasm shredding through him. He jerked his lips down to yours, holding you in an open mouthed kiss full of tongue and teeth and groans. He shoved himself as close as he could get to you, trapping you near painfully tight against the stone wall with his pressing bulk, demanding lips, and throbbing cock. His dick jumped hard with each pump of hot sticky cum deep in your cunt. It warmed you inside out and mixed with the heady knowledge that you’d completely unraveled this imposing man to unexpectedly drag you into a milder orgasm of your own. Each heavy jerk of him helped guide you through your own bliss, bodies working in perfect synch to have every pump answered with a coaxing squeeze. It kept you both suspended in your mindless heaven until you’d wrung every bit of pleasure from each other that your bodies could possibly give.

Beckman was certain that you’d sucked his very soul from him if the numb and clumsy feeling of his body was anything to go by. It wasn’t ready to listen to him, acting like it belonged to someone else and he supposed that was true; it was yours now. You’d held his heart a long time and his mind even longer, so it was only fitting that you owned his body too.

You didn’t seem to be doing much better with being in charge of your body, eyes half-lidded and lashes fluttering against the need to close. You were a vision - your foggy and affectionate gaze glued to him from under dark lashes, the flush tinting your sweat-damp skin, your lips parted and kiss-swollen, hair a wild crown around your head, decorating your face with stray strands. He studied and admired the image of you fucked-out and languid with eagerness and reverence. You were doing much the same, enjoying his mussed silver waves of soft locks, his gently shining eyes, the hints of red on the apples of his cheeks and his chest, the heavy rise and fall of his sculpted shoulders as he tried to catch his breath.

The sound of a drinking song spiking high in volume snuck through the wall and shattered your illusion of privacy. You were both suddenly back against the side of the bar instead of whatever pocket world you had carved out for just yourselves. Beckman continued to hold you steady as he slowly let your tired legs down, your skirt following after to hang back in place. Your legs shook under you like it was your first time standing and you laughed at their clumsiness. Beckman cracked a loving smile at you, stealing your breath and halting your chuckles. Again the melody within the bar seeped out to you clearly and you laughed even louder this time when you recognized one of Shanks’ favorite tunes. While he tucked himself away, Beckman raised a brow at your cackling until he recognized the song too and added his own gentle laughter to yours.

Looking him straight in the eyes, you fought to sing along properly through your bubbling giggles.

“I took that lass and smacked her ass

Said darlin you’re comin’ with me”

He took your hips and pulled you to him, guiding you in the closest to a swaying dance that your uncooperative legs would allow. He quietly joined you on the next lines, treating you to the deep and raspy parts of his voice that lived in his chest.

“Ain’t got a hall but we’ll use the wall

Just give me an hour or three”

“What do you say, darlin’?” Beckman asked with humor dancing in the light reflections in his eyes. There was a seriousness underlying his tone in his next question, however. “Willing to give me a few more hours?”

You gave him a sweet smile but turned it coy, your attitude sneaking back as your mind stabilized. “You’ve got one to convince me to keep you.”

Beckman huffed out a laugh at your bite coming back and leaned down to kiss your forehead affectionately. He took a moment to rest his cheek atop your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, delicately tinged with a touch of sweat and sex. It had him shiver and start to twitch back to life. Slowly, he trailed kisses from the top of your head to the tip of your ear. His warm breath made you shiver and begin to heat again as well.

“Sweet darlin’,” Beckman mumbled, lips tickling the rim of your ear, “I’ll have you back to begging for me in half the time. Gotta show you that I don’t just know how to fuck; I can worship.”

#beckman x reader #benn beckman #one piece #thirst hours #benn beckman x reader #beckman x you #beckman x y/n #x reader #fem reader #one piece smut #benn beckman smut #x reader smut #my writing

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

Text

you'll be in my heart always

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'you'll be in my heart'

rated g | 777 words | no cw | tags: modern au, famous corroded coffin, married steddie, steddie dads

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Is she watching Tarzan again?" Eddie asks when he walks in the door.

Steve looks up from the grocery list he's writing and smiles. "I think she's got a crush on Tarzan."

"Steven, please. I can't think about her having a crush on anyone. She's only seven."

Steve laughs as he wraps his arms around Eddie's waist. "How was recording today?"

Eddie sighs before kissing the side of Steve's head. "Could've been better."

Steve hums in response, asking for him to explain without having to outright ask. That's how they've worked for years, understanding each other without explanations.

"Just got into it a little with one of the mixers. She wanted me to sing lead on a song Jeff wrote. That's not how we do things," Eddie explained, pulling back to kiss Steve on the lips before pulling away completely. "It'll be fine. Jeff got to sing it."

"Daddy! Watch Tarzan with me!" Riley yelled from the living room when she noticed he was home. "My favorite song is coming!"

Steve patted his hip and returned to his grocery list. "Good luck."

"Hey, little one. Tarzan again?" Eddie asked as he sat down on the couch next to their oldest daughter. She nodded, not looking away from the screen. "What's your favorite song?"

It changed almost every time she watched it, so it was a fair question.

"The heart one." She finally looked up at Eddie, grinning.

"Which one is-" Eddie got cut off when he heard exactly what song it was. Oh god, he was gonna start crying. He always cried during this song. "Oh."

He could hear Steve giggling from the kitchen counter. Fucker.

As Kala sings to Tarzan, Riley leans against Eddie's side, singing along under her breath. She was shy when it came to singing, which shocked both Steve and Eddie. She was good, already had pitch that Eddie was jealous of.

Eddie starts singing along softly, hoping to encourage her to sing louder.

She stops singing and looks up at Eddie.

"Am I always in your heart?" She asks, nearly making Eddie's heart burst.

"Of course, little one."

"Even when you go on the bus with my uncles?" She pushes.

When she was little, her and Steve came with him on tours. She got to see the world, and be spoiled by everyone. But when she started kindergarten, and the twins were born, Eddie took a year-long break to stay home and enjoy time with his family. The rest of the guys were happy to, appreciative of their time to settle. Jeff and Frankie both got married, and Gareth moved in with his boyfriend. But then they went back on tour, and this time, Riley couldn't come with them. She had school, and taking two toddlers on tour would've been chaotic and too much to ask of Steve. So when it came time for him to tour, he had to leave them home, and Riley had to adjust.

It wasn't easy at first. She cried every night on the phone, and Eddie considered just canceling the tour. Their fans would have to understand it wasn't the right time. Maybe they could reschedule for school breaks and summer.

But Steve, the voice of reason, insisted that she would never get used to it if he didn't stick to it, but that she would get used to it. She did, but it wasn't without the occasional bad days or nights.

"Especially when I go on the bus with your uncles. I hang up your art all over the bus so everyone can see how much you mean to me." Eddie kisses the top of her head. "You're always in my heart."

They stayed snuggled up on the couch while the movie played, only getting interrupted once when Steve came in the room to hug them both goodbye.

"Twins'll be up soon from their nap. I'll be quick," Steve said as he checked his pocket for his wallet. "Just grabbing some stuff for the weekend."

"Love you." Eddie and Riley said in unison, not looking away from the movie.

"Love you both."

"Wait!" Riley suddenly jumped up, running to Steve and hugging his waist. "I'm in your heart, too, right?"

"Of course, baby. Always." Steve leaned down to hug her again before she ran back to the couch and into Eddie's lap.

When Steve came back, the movie had finished, but Eddie was dancing with all three kids to Strangers Like Me, shouting more than singing along. He set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and joined them, laughing as Riley once again requested You'll Be In My Heart.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #corrodedcoffinfest #steddie dads

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chrollosbm · 10 months

Text

Satoru Gojo is into Some Weird Roleplay (Christmas Smut)

art cr: glowx_21 on x

hey idk what this is LMAOO. i thought of this randomly bc gojo reminds me of a certain christmas character so i just ran with it! he's one of my three husbands who i love so much so i wanted to write about him. i'm so feral for him it's not even funny. anyways, i hope you enjoy and don't take it too seriously, unless you want to idc! mdni.

domestic gojo, husband gojo, dad gojo

female reader, no description of her features but i’m black so

warnings: piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, satoru won't shut up, dom gojo

i'm on ao3, pls support me there too!

wc: 1500+

“Satoru,” You surprised yourself in the way you were able to let out a single word with his unrelenting thrusts. “Baby. P-please slow down.”

The man who was currently plummeting into you from behind let out a click of his tongue, ignoring your request and instead opted with a loud and hard smack to your ass, his pace somehow getting faster and harder. His hips were ruthless against the fat of your ass, creating clapping noises throughout the large bedroom.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He let out breathlessly, his tone as playful as ever, waiting for you to address him the right way.

You wanted to reach back and knock some sense into him, tell him to slow his thrusts before he knocked the wind out of you and woke up the children. His deep and powerful thrusts prohibited you from saying much though, with his fat cock reaching your g-spot so effortlessly that you were seeing stars.

If you could roll your eyes right now you would, but your body seemed to forget how to function, only capable of following the orders of your ridiculous but gorgeous husband behind you. “Saint Nick…please.” It would’ve sounded ridiculous to you if you weren’t being plummeted to Neptune with each touch of your gummy spot deep within you, but you were being fucked so stupid that you would call him God if he asked. “You don’t wanna wake up the little elves do you?” You played along as you continued panting, fingers grasping the silk sheets tightly, tears in your eyes from the intense pleasure.

You thought he was ignoring you again, with his long fingers digging deeper into your hips before he slowed his pace, deciding on an unhurried, rough one, sliding in and out of those warm, wet walls of yours with a long and drawn out “fuuuuuck,” leaving his mouth. “The elves are fast asleep, baby. Don’t worry about them, just take Santa’s dick, mmkay’?” His voice was jolly as ever, just like Santa Claus himself, and you would’ve laughed if his cock wasn’t basically touching your brain at this point. You could only let out small whimpers as he arched your back further, reaching only a place he could.

Why you agreed on letting your dear husband roleplay as Santa was beyond you, but Satoru had a way with words. All he had to do was promise to make you feel good, make you cum all night long, pretty please baby, in that convincing, deep voice of his, a pout on his features, those bright blue eyes begging, so how could you say no?

You should have made some more conditions, one being to say no to the bells he had attached to the bed frame, with them ringing with each jerk of his hips, creating an impossibly loud jingle. He said it would get the two of you in the “Christmas spirit,” with the bed decorated in lights and ringing balls, sounding like a real sleigh everytime the bed hit the wall in full force.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Satoru pulling himself out of you, leaving you empty and missing him already, causing a whine to leave your lips as he flipped you over as if you weighed nothing, before settling in between your legs again. You were faced with the beautiful man you were so grateful to call yours, his cerulean orbs were darkened somehow as they stared into yours, looking dazed and drunk off your pussy, his pupils slightly dilated. His pretty white follicles were tucked into a red santa hat, the puffy ball tossed on the side, sweat trickling from his temples from wrecking your insides. He had that adorable, innocent smile on his face, as if he wasn’t guilty of talking you into this comical predicament in the first place.

“Will Mrs. Claus let me put the beard on again?” He let out, a pout forming on his pink lips, glossy from sweat and saliva.

“No, don’t ask again!” You almost yelled, your face scrunched in annoyance and he let out a booming laugh at your immediate response.

Satoru did have a cheap, plastic beard that matched his white hair perfectly, but you made him take it off for a couple reasons. One being it looked terrible. As beautiful as the man above you was as he was staring down at you, shallow breaths coming from his perfectly shaped, rock hard abdomen, and his rosy cheeks, the beard made him look…creepy. Two being it was damn itchy. He had been going down on you when he had it on, but it was impossible for you to focus on his holy tongue work and perfect movements of his fingers, curving into you, hitting that spot that had you crying out his name for the night (fucking Saint Nick.) Once it began scratching your legs painfully, you’d forced him to take it off, which he did with a whine, throwing the damp, shitty excuse for a beard across the bedroom floor, before making you cum from his tongue alone, more than once.

Your husband’s wide grin was replaced with something immodest as he gripped your thighs, pulling you forward, and slipped inside torturously slow, earning a gasp from the both of you. His head was thrown back and his lip was caught in his teeth, causing your pussy to throb from both the feeling of warmth and fullness again, and Satoru’s effortless way of making you feel hot inside just by simple facial expressions, subsequently making a groan escape his lips before sinking into you completely, touching your gummy spot immediately with the angle he entered.

He kept your legs apart as he thrust into you forcefully and fast-paced again, with you giving no complaints this time about the commotion the jingling bed frame was causing. You didn’t care, for he was taking you to heaven in this position, goosebumps erupting from your skin and seeing black dots in your vision with each time he reached a new depth inside you. Your cunt was competing with the loud noises of those stupid fucking bells as it made sloshing noises throughout the room, and when you looked down, you could see your juices dripping onto his pretty, pale, absolutely perfect cock.

As if he could read your mind, he spoke for you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. My god.” His head was no longer tilted back, but also looking down as your tight, slippery cunt sucked in his dick, a feral look on his features, absolutely enamored by the sight. His pace never let up, his hips moving at the speed of light almost as he used one hand to press on your lower stomach, making it feel better than you thought possible. “You feel me in there? You feel Santa’s cock abusing this perfect little cunt?” His goofy grin returned and you couldn’t do anything but let out a loud moan of approval, face twisted up, still entertaining his mess because this just felt too fucking good.

His hand moved from your tummy to focus on your clit, fingers rubbing small, soft circles, completely catching you off guard. Your legs began to tremble from the insane pleasure you were feeling, hands clenching the sheets so hard again you were surprised they didn’t come off the corners of the bed.

“Can I make you a mommy again? Put another little helper in this belly?” That feral look was in his eyes again, tone as light as ever, as he slowed down, choosing a rough ram motion, causing your tits to jiggle at the change of pace, making Satoru groan at the sight, mouth halfway open. You didn’t know if it was the mind fog you felt from him fucking you brainless, but you nodded vigorously as tears fell down your cheeks, that white hot feeling in your veins approaching, mind so numb you would probably agree to having ten more of his white-haired, blue-eyed children. The two of your already had four, three you’d birthed and one you adopted, but you didn’t care right now, you felt like he had seriously taken you to the North Pole with the way his cock was basically fucking your guts.

His infamous smile returned before leaning down to place his lips on yours, barely kissing you, just sticking his minty tongue in your mouth and panting, speaking incoherent sentences along the lines of you being a “good girl,” and “taking his load so well.” You couldn’t comprehend a thing anyway, as your body began convulsing, washing over with relief as your orgasm was drawn out of you, long and bone shattering, with your back arching off the bed with a squeal that was hard to keep inside your body.

Satoru wasn’t too far behind you, with his eyes closed tightly, as his hips began twitching, the first time all night they didn’t have a consistent rhythm and he groaned out loudly, spurting long, hot ropes of his cum inside you.

His eyes opened soon after, those beautiful blue orbs staring at you adoringly with his signature wide grin on his face, in which you returned, panting heavily, so thankful for this beautiful, insane, goofy husband of yours. He grabbed the comforter and placed it over the two of you, kissing your lips softly, his breath heavy as the two of you exchanged small “i love you’s” back and forth.

“Mommy?” A small voice came from the corner of the room and your heart dropped, recognizing it as your three year old daughter’s, afraid of what she might’ve seen. Satoru hid under the covers, his hat coming off in the process and you had a full view of her now, with her candy cane nightgown and teddy bear in her arms, her lip quivering with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, ready to get up and comfort your youngest, afraid something happened as it was past midnight on Christmas Eve. God, did the bells wake her up?

She stomped out the room before you could get up, wailing and yelling for her older brother. “Megumi! Mommy was kissing Santa!” Her cries could be heard throughout the entire house and you knew everyone would be awake by now.

Satoru’s loud laugh could also be heard throughout the entire house, its jollyness rivaling Saint Nick himself.

my masterlist!

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #jjk x black reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru x reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months

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Dude, imagine something like: TADC x Mime! Reader. Reader usually stays quiet most of the time, but sometimes they suddenly talk startling everyone around them. At the same time, they are like, very expressive, using exaggerated gestures and facial expressions, and usually communicates solely through their miming skills. And if you wanna go extra crazy THEY COULD ALSO HAVE SOMETHING LIKE MR. MIME FROM POKEMON, where they like, do a mimic of a wall, and then a invisible wall appears out of nowhere or something like that

I hope you understood what i meant, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language 💖💖

TADC cast x mime!reader !

eueueu i totally understand what youre saying and i love the idea sm!! i love it when mime characters have mime physics, or when clown characters have clown physics!! love it so so so much!! sorry if this is a little short, ive been writing personal stuff all day and the back aches are starting to creep back in already </3

CAINE:

his jaw drops the first time you speak, he genuinely thought you were totally incapable of speech thanks to your whole theme going on... i think he would love your little mime tricks with the invisible walls and barriers and... did you just no clip through the floor while pretending to walk down some stairs...? where did you go?? where? was there another no clip glitch issue thing going on? he thought he fixed that...!

POMNI:

ah, a jester and her mime.... not the weirdest pairing... though granted pomni doesnt commit to the bit of being a jester and doesnt do tricks or jokes.. while you do commit... i think she would grow frustrated if you put a barrier up and made her slow down... calm down.. chill.. sure you understand the whole "finding the exit" thing going on with her, but rushing things probably wont help.... to time out she goes... probably gives you a side eye if she sees you just randomly walking on some invisible platform to just. leave in the middle of an IHA

JAX:

tries to coax you into using your powers for evil... i have a feeling jax doesnt like people who arent talkers... like being incapable of speak is one thing, i think at most is that he would make decisions for you (ie wrap an arm around your shoulder and be like "oh well me and (reader) were just thinking about......." yk? like in a joking way) but i dont think he likes quiet people... tries to coax you into speaking more... imagine you never spoke before in front of anyone and you finally reveal that you can talk, to jax, and he tries to tell everyone but no one believes him. psychological torment 101

RAGATHA:

i like to think she plays along with your mime antics, pretending to also be putting up invisible props and such... though her actions and movements are noticeably more sloppy and not as... fluid...? afterall, ragatha hasnt spent time practicing to be anywhere near your level! is a little surprised when she finds out your stuff is at least somewhat tangible within the digital world... thinks your emoting is cute..

KINGER:

so you know how he gets startled by gangle simply standing next to him? its like that with you, but he jumps when you randomly start talking next to him.. ponders... invisible safe square/cube/whatever... though i think part of the comfort of a pillow fort is that hes out of sight... but i think he would enjoy it at least a little if you created something like that for him

ZOOBLE:

enjoys that you dont talk much, zooble doesnt like chatty people i dont think... though they are willing to listen to you on days where you do feel like striking up a conversation... you actually get a laugh out of them when you banish jax to time out (aka putting up 4 see through walls around him for whatever length of time to atone for whatever crime he committed that day)

"he took my arm off.. give him an hour.."

GANGLE:

art kid meets art kid, you guys are both a little silly... okay sure your stuff is more performative, and while gangle does have a comedy and tragedy mask her thing is more so in drawing and painting imo, i love me artistic gangle... loves doing your makeup, if its not just a permanent part of your digital face, and can be customized... not much to be said here... theres comfortable silence between the two of you when you hang out since you dont talk often and gangle doesnt know what to talk about and may or may not fear ruining the dynamic between the two of you

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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oursecretways · 4 months

Text

“Look at all those chickens’’

OT8 × Reader notes: ngl this all started with me seeing a chicken art on my feed and I realized I want a couple dozen now lol, so enjoy my first imagine/drabbles. Also, sorry it got so late by the time I have finished this, I will revisit to edit this and that is why it got shorter and shorter at the end 😭 (Forbidden feelings coming soon♡︎) word count: 598 warning(s): none just pure fluff

Chan:

He would just look at you dumbfounded: what are you two going to do with these chickens? He knows you didn't think it through, he isn't mad at you, secretly loves all of them and wants to buy at least the same amount so you can have little chicken pairs.

Already thinking about buying a farm far away from everyone where you can have goats and baby cows, maybe some horse and of course dogs and cats. Heck, he would even buy you a whole zoo just to make sure his little princess has all the animals she can possibly think of.

Minho:

He would tease you with feeding them to his kids, enjoying how your face scrunches up from the thought. Deep inside, he is intrigued by them, and slowly warming up to the idea of having a bunch of baby chicks.

He also says up until the AM to look for chicken coops and things he can build for them so they can play and have a comfortable place to stay. He is trying to be secretive about it to surprise you and to not blow up his cover.

Changbin:

He would literally hold back tears and show you all the pictures he has saved on his phone about baby farm animals. He is a softie and you always knew it.

He names all of them silly names and feeling quite happy about them until one poops on his floor… he might be in for a wild ride with figuring out how to potty-train chickens.

Hyunjin:

He already wants to make sketches of you and your kids, thinking about poses he could have you hold them so he can make sure he gives justice to your beauty. Feels overjoyed by this new milestone you two accomplished: having a dozen of little feathery kids.

Han:

For a solid minute, he laughs, not thinking you are being for real. Then, when he realized he was happy, he named all of them names like pip, peep, squeak, lil pip jr. and the list could go on and on.

After a week or so of having them, he started “teaching” them how to fly, making you watch it in horror. But let's face it, he is so clumsy he has dropped one or two of them accidentally when you weren't home.

Felix:

As soon as you opened the box, his eyes light up, living that Stardew fantasy with you. He makes lots of pictures of them, you with the chicks, and his own SKZOO. He sends the latter picture to the group chat with the boys, announcing that BbokAri somehow ended up being a father and that the mother left them. You just laughed at the soap opera he suddenly started to write about his own merch plushie, but you didn't stop him.

Seungmin:

You showed him while the others were there as well, bragging about your new-found family with Minnie. Everyone was over the moon about how adorable they were, except your boyfriend, who simply told Felix that he thinks they are his kids, delivering it with the stone-cold expression he mastered probably at birth.

I.N.:

He gets super excited, although finds it a bit silly. Said a joke along the lines of must've cheated with Felix's SKZOO, which earned a chuckle from you.

As he starts to play with them, one immediately pinches him with its beak making you forget about your kids and making sure that your boyfriend is okay, babying him just a little more.

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 month

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Hear me out. Can you write a small fic or hc post about Jake with an S/O who's chubby or on the more plump side?

I can see all three of the moon boys liking and appreciating a partner who's chubby, don't get me wrong, I'm sure Steven and Marc would enjoy someone with that body type too. (You can slip them in if you'd like) But I'm lowkey feral for Jake and I just know that this man would love an s/o who's nice and soft

(You can add in some nsfw and some spice if you want)

I am so sorry, this became like 99% smut. (I have a problem).

The Gutter's Where My Mind Is

Jake Lockey x Chubby!F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

A/N: A huge thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading this and saving me from myself.

Summary: Jake can't help himself.

Warnings: chubby!reader, thigh fucking, Jake being a menace, dry humping, oral (f! receiving), over use of italics, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1254

Jake moans loudly as he hugs you from behind, unintentionally pressing his throbbing erection against your plump backside. He buries his face into your neck, breathing deeply and trying to stifle his groans. He doesn’t want you to think he only wants physical contact with you as a way for it to lead to sex.

It’s a problem though, because even if he didn’t have a boner he’d definitely get one instantly from hugging you. He just can’t help it.

You’ve just come from the shower, your towel wrapped around your body and your skin still slightly damp. The plan had been to get changed for the day, but you hadn’t anticipated a koala Jake.

“Jake,” you giggle as he nuzzles closer, sliding his hands up your chest to squeeze your heavy breasts. He’s careful with them, cupping them through your towel, making sure he doesn’t cause you any discomfort as he kneads them with his fingers.

“Hmm?” He lightly kisses your neck, his voice innocent as if he wasn’t doing anything at all.

“I’ve got to get ready.”

“Not yet, not for another hour.” He says a little pleadingly.

You chuckle, “I was going to try on some outfits, find something that-”

“Just go naked. You’ll look perfect, amor.”

You snort. “Sure, and arrested.”

“No one would arrest art.” He lays on thickly.

You roll your eyes and it’s like he can feel the shift in your expression because he tuts and nips at your neck.

“Ow!” You laugh, purposefully being a little more dramatic than you need to.

“Shh, silly thing,” he kisses along your shoulder, slowly undoing the towel and easing it off. “I didn’t bite you that hard.”

“Jake…”

He turns you around gently, grinning wickedly. But he stops and feigns a look of innocence when he sees your face. “What amor? I’m just admiring you…”

“You’re gonna make me late, is what you’re doing.” You give him the most serious look you can muster (which isn’t very serious at all.)

Jake nods, pushing you gently back towards the bed, “I’m gonna make you come, is what I’m doing.”

You don’t even get to open your mouth to react before he’s pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue inside. He groans as he licks, one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the small of your back, pressing you close so he can feel your soft stomach and thighs against his body. His cock twitches, throbbing almost to the point of maddening pain as he feels your soft flesh.

His hands shift, languidly teasing you; plucking at your nipples until they pebble under his fingers, dragging his tongue over yours until you’re following the movement of his lips desperately.

Heat begins to build in your belly, sparking along your muscles. You rub your legs together absentmindedly, just trying to take off some of the ache.

Jake chuckles when he notices, dipping his hand lower and squeezing your thigh before he presses his fingers at your core.

He groans at the wetness he finds there, rubbing his fingers together momentarily to marvel at the slipperiness before he lightly rubs your clit.

You let out a soft moan, pulling at his shirt, “Jake…”

“Mhmmm, amor, I know,” he pushes you back against the bed and expertly pulls off his clothes in record time before he climbs on top of you.

“I need to get ready.” You pout, putting up the smallest insistence because you feel like you have to.

“If you don’t behave I’m going to tie you to the bed and not let you get dressed the whole day.” He mumbles, grinning cheekily as he pulls your left leg to his chest and kisses your ankle. You know the threat is empty, but your body squirms excitedly against him anyway.

“Oh? Maybe you want that actually, hmm?”

You pull a face and he laughs, throaty and deep.

“I’ll wipe that look right off your face amor, don’t worry.”

He takes hold of his thick cock, and shifts on his knees, inching closer to you so that he can rest his length against your folds. He hums in approval as his skin touches your heat and rocks against you, rubbing his hard cock and balls all over your slippery cunt.

You squirm, swallowing as he moves languidly and buck up against him.

“So greedy.” He tuts, grinning wildly knowing that if the positions were reversed he would be just as needy.

Jake takes hold of your other leg, squeezing your thick thigh and groaning before he places it against his chest as well. He presses them close so that your soft inner thighs squeeze his cock wonderfully.

“Ah, that’s perfect amor, so good,” he groans, keeping a firm hand on your legs as he begins to move in earnest. Long, slow thrust as he fucks your thighs, sliding up and along your pussy with every buck, smearing your slick and his precome all over your soft skin.

“Fuck, yes,” his breath catches in his throat, his hips moving a fraction faster.

You whimper, trying to bite back the sound so that you don’t overshadow the pretty sounds he's making. Your eyes glued to his face, his eyebrows pinched in tension, his mouth open in bliss.

He groans again, low and feral, “Amor, you’re so soft, so perfect, gonna make me come just like this.” He thrusts against you slowly, trying to drag out the sensation, make it last as long as possible before he has to succumb to the pleasure.

He slides one hand down your thigh, squeezing until he reaches your plump hip and then squeezing even harder before he palms your soft belly, moaning at the feel of you under his fingers.

“Fuck, I wanna fuck your thighs and come all over you, then fuck your belly, and breasts and mouth and pussy and ass,” he gasps, low and soft, “wanna come all over you and in you, wanna lick you until you pass out from how good my tongue feels.” He presses his thumb to your clit, alternating the pressure gently in time with the rhythm of his hips.

You gasp, letting out a low whine at how desperate he sounds and how good he feels rubbing against you. Building that pressure deep in your stomach until you almost can’t breathe, can’t think or do anything except chase it practically sobbing.

“Amor, fuck,” he bends forward slightly, groaning as he bites his lip. He wants to burn your expression into his eyelids so he can see it the second before he goes to sleep.

It’s too much, too perfect, and the knot tightens to breaking point and beyond. He moans your name, low and deep in his chest as his hips buck twice, two sharp shudders before he comes. He splashes across your skin, hitting your stomach and thighs and core with a sob.

He looks so beautiful, like a blissed out angel staring at a god.

For a moment he breathes deeply, resting his forehead against your leg, his eyes closed.

You can’t help but smile at how sweet he looks, satiated and peaceful.

That serenity is short lived however.

Before you even have a chance to say his name Jake is pressing at your inner thighs, spreading you wide and diving down to clean up the mess he made with his tongue against your pussy, sucking on your clit until you’re screaming and rubbing his cum into your belly and thighs.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight mcu #jake lockley x reader #x reader #jake lockley x you #x you #jake lockley x female reader #x female reader #jake lockley x f!reader #x f!reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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adyophene · 6 months

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lucifer x husk is something i never knew i needed and as a multishipper im screaming

literally. king of hell x some alcoholic furry guy

i love them i need to know how they wouldve met, fallen for each other and started dating. and how much thatd piss alastor off

Ooh I am so happy other people are enjoying this pair as much as I am! I've gotten a few asks about my headcanons for them, and I am happy to blab on and on. Fair warning. This is gunna be a long and rambling essay.

I'm gunna put it all under a readmore, just cause I want to insert the art I've done of them so far, since I've been half-heartedly trying to tell a visual story through the doodles.

Okay. On we go!

How they met;

We did see them technically meet in the show, where they shared their singular canon piece of dialogue, which was just Husk saying 'hey'. And then in the finale where we see a literal split second moment of Lucifer holding Husk's arm.

(also seeing the sweet looks huskerdust is giving each other here just makes me feel so delulu for writing this all, but crackships are silly by definition, so lets get back to the lucihusk) For me, what I imagined, is after the Hotel is finished its rebuilding, that is when Husk and Lucifer finally actually meet in a proper manner. I think Lucifer would be trying to make a good impression on all Charlie's friends at this point, endeared to all of them from their actions during the finale. Unfortunately, I think he is also the King of Bad First Impressions.

[Note. I think at this point Lucifer wouldn't even remember Husk's name quite yet. I think he would call him 'Keekee' ( by accident) or 'Dusk' (confidently incorrect) or just be like "Hey!.... Uh... You?" until Charlie or Vaggie finally corrected him. ]

Husk, on the other hand, I feel like maybe wouldn't gel with Lucifer right away. Wouldn't hate him, but also maybe not be enamored with him right away. Same as Lucifer, maybe he would have sweetened on him a bit through the hotel's rebuilding, but I think they'd start out at very neutral feelings. Maybe a vague sense of 'He's okay, but I don't know if we will really get along.'

Despite this, Lucifer is persistent, and he's going to be everyone's (except maybe Al, unless they start getting along by s2) buddy. He'd start hanging around the bar and participate in the redemption exercises.

Now, we know Lucifer struggles with depression, and I think he would be trying real hard to mask anything going on during this time. They defeated Adam! They rebuilt the Hotel! He believes in Charlie's dream, and he's more involved with her life and other people than he has been for years.

His only issue being Husk sees right through it, both because Husk is perceptive, but also because even the King of Hell can't help but have a lonely night or two at the bar where he ends up venting about his divorce and subsequent lingering loneliness.

[snapcube ref aside, )I really do think Husk would start to feel more positively toward Lucifer after Luci would drop the act somewhat. That they could bond over feeling both at their lowest of lows, while also being to admit that things seem to be getting better!

This would be about the point that I imagine Lucifer developing more romantic feelings! Husk would be a bit less prickly, and Luci would just absolutely eat up any and all positive interactions they'd have. I like to picture a lot of little shows of care at the this point, like Husk memorizing what Lucifer likes and even making up 'fun' drinks just to try and cheer the guy up. And Lucifer would fun a fun game in trying to get the grumpy cat to smile, and just, lighting up himself any time he was successful.

And that culminating into the two of them making each other laugh, with Alastor being an easy butt of the jokes, and a good way for Husk, himself, to finally get a chance to vent. I think Lucifer would be one of the only 'safe' options for Husk to do that with, in just so far as Al can't really threaten Lucifer, and Lucifer already sees Al as a bit of a manipulative bastard.

Falling for each other; At this point, Lucifer would start being a bit more caring toward Husk, though with that wonderful, oblivious flair of his. I don't think Lucifer himself would realize he'd have a crush up until he'd start feeling protective or jealous over Husk, and it would really throw him for a loop at first.

Because fake dating is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I have always had a idea for a fanfic (or comic) that I haven't gotten around to yet, based around Lilith coming back, and Lucifer panickily asking Husk to pretend to be his boyfriend, so he can appear well adjusted/completely over her. Of course the whole thing would backfire, as Lilith would see through it (as Lucifer wouldn't be as good of an actor as he'd think), and that Husk would end up kind of feeling hurt by the whole thing.

Husk, who'd go along with the plot with an eyeroll, would find himself seizing up through the whole fake date/encounter. Would find weird, sudden emotions bubbling up and absolutely hating it.

I don't think that man would think about the class difference between him and Lucifer up until someone would say something about it, maybe Lucifer himself trying to rationalize the (at this time still fake) relationship to Lilith. Now, Husk feels uneasy about the whole thing and ends up drinking heavily the whole night so he doesn't have to think about feelings. (Blitz and Stolas who? Ahaha. fuck.) Meanwhile, while the date would be fake, I think Lucifer would really rather like having Husk on his arm and feeling like he'd have a love-life again, while also not really getting why Husk's mood would be getting worse throughout the night. I think they'd still end up on good terms, but both of them would have their feelings in a jumble, and Husk would not like it. (he thinks he's lost the ability to love, after all)

I think somewhere at this point, as they are starting to develop feelings for one another, is when Lucifer finally starts really realizing how tied to Alastor Husk is, and he starts to make it everyone's problem. I do think Al and Lucifer would stay snarky at each other this whole time, but that it'd only get worse, as Al would poke back since he'd find Lu's over reactions funny.

I also think Al would be maybe the last person to realize anything romantic would be brewing between Lucifer and Husk, and he'd just think it'd be a purely platonic thing.

Beyond just bitching about Alastor, Lucifer would really be ramping up his attention towards Husk too. Fully in that 'puppylove/crush' stage, and trying his darndest to make Husk feel good and special. Husk would be resistant to it all, thinking it would just be Lucifer rebounding hard, and not wanting to get wrapped up in Morningstar family drama when he could happily (miserably) keep his head down and just keep drinking the days away.

But then Lucifer would find out about Husk's love of stage magic, and his history as a performer, and it'd be all over for the catman. It would become Luci's new pet project to rope Husk into some joyful self-expression, and after a song and dance number's worth of convincing, Husk would start to come around. I have to post all these images now cause- I drew them with the intention of mimicking a musical number! Husk starting off as a bit resistant before jumping in whole heartedly, and Lucifer overexcitedly dragging him along throughout the music number, hyping him up and just all around being smitten.

And this is where Husk would start really falling. Getting swept up in indulging his favorite, least destructive hobby, and having someone who absolutely loves it to bond with. Especially when it would be over. When they would just settle down and talk, and laugh, and bond over what they love about performing. The spectacle, the audience, the love of the craft. Its about the comradery!!!

@belladonazeppole wrote a wonderful series of fanfics based off these pictures, as well as the songs from 'The Greatest Showman' that really fit the ship! I would be remiss to not mention them here, because Bella and their fics are just wonderful!

How they started dating;

Now. Don't think just cause they both caught feelings for each other, that they'd immediately admit to it. No. I think both of them would drag their heels. I don't think Husk would admit to them at all, without some outside force effecting it. I think he'd stubbornly try to ignore the crush or drink it away, rather than let his heart become vulnerable to anymore damage.

Meanwhile, Lucifer would be struggling between his feelings for Husk and Lilith. (In the actual canon, I do think they might try to rekindle things, depending on what kind of person Lilith turns out to be, but I digress.) Part of him would be so swept up in a giddy kind of excitement, while the other would be set firmly in the camp of 'this is a bad idea, this won't work out, just look at what happened to your last relationship'. It wouldn't stop him from being outwardly more and more affectionate, but it would be weighing on him.

I do think Lucifer would end up being the one who would be thinking; "What am I doing. He'd never like me back." While Husk would be just sitting there (echoing what was said in the ask- sorry I went all wild and wrote this much about the ship dear god)- "I'm just some fucking furry alcoholic, what the fuck would the king of hell see in me??? Am I delusional? What the fuck is going on??" And I feel like this stage would go on for MONTHS and drive everyone else nuts. It would be clear to everyone (except Alastor, who again, would be just this meme

Though that wouldn't stop him from getting a little pissy about it) And then it would all come to a head during something benign, like a board game night. There would be flirting, there would be jealousy, there would be arguing, and then finally, loudly and with a lot of feeling, Lucifer would shout his way through asking Husk out on a date. A real Date. A capital 'D' date out on the town, dressed to the nines and a real good time. The board would be knocked over in the fray, game pieces raining down upon them while Husk would just stare blank faced, trying to process what just happened. An awkward half-minute would pass before he'd finally, trying to play it cool, shrug out a 'sure'.

How much it'd piss Alastor off;

In the aftermath, a radio static would just lowly grate everyone's ears as Alastor would be slowly coming to terms on how just annoying it would be to have his friend (/Unhealthy co-dependent pet friend possession??) romantically involved (ew) with the King of Hell (double ew)??? Then, either it would be something light hearted like 'he keeps trying to break them up but failing cause he hates interacting with romance' or a darker route where 'he keeps trying to manipulate them into breaking up by preying on all their worst insecurities in the relationship'.

And that, my friend, is all I have in mind so far for this delusional crackship au! There is more I could flesh out, of course, like Angel's role as a friend or potential third in the relationship, or what I imagine as Husk becoming like a stepdad to Charlie, but I've typed enough for the whole month. Hope any of that was coherent! I did not bother to edit or proof read it. Just pure stream of consciousness.

#not art #this is long #like really long #like don't open it unless you want 25 paragraphs about a crackship that like 12 people ship #royalflush #lucihusk

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 5 months

Text

✧˚ · .Painting their portrait ✧˚ · .

Note: I hope everyone is doing well 💖 I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖 If you want to commission me check my ko-fi and pinned post for prices. Thank you!

When he found out about your talent, he immediately bought you the most expensive equipment. Whether you like to paint on a canvas or on a graphic tablet, he will buy you only the best products.

He's very old-fashioned and wants a classic portrait. He'll arrange a proper setting to fit his taste. With a fireplace in the background, an expensive suit, and some other decoration that screams old money, he’ll sit with his legs crossed in his comfy chair while he looks at you. A soft smile would appear on his face, especially when you two locked eyes. You thought about painting that lovely smile and contouring those sweet dimples, but you know him better and chose to leave a stoic expression on his face. His soft side is for your eyes only.

He won’t mind sitting for hours because he'll have the greatest company. You two will gossip about the hottest tea at work, talk about his latest projects, and besides that, he'll have his romantic moments when he tells you how much he cherishes you.

The final result leaves him in awe.

"Darling, this is astonishing." He said, amber eyes studying every inch of the canvas and feeling an immense sense of pride washing over him. He couldn't take his eyes off your masterpiece.

"I knew you had it in you," he began after a short period of total silence. "Yet you managed to exceed my expectations."

You breathe a sigh of relief. Even if he was your boyfriend, it was hard to please him. He didn't coddle you, so when he praised you, you knew it was real.

He will hang that portrait with pride in his office, and he’ll tell everyone with pride that his partner made the incredible art.

With the corner of his eye, he noticed how you kept shifting your gaze from your notebook to him. Sometimes you'd stare longer at him, and sometimes your hand would go faster and then slower as if you were trying to remember something. Sometimes, you would scratch your head with the pencil and sighed in frustration.

Whatever you were doodling, it wasn't coming along as you wanted.

Not being able to control his curiosity anymore, he slowly approached your desk.

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked, looking over your shoulder, directly in the notebook. A wide smile appeared shortly.

You didn't hide the page in time, and Leon saw the sketches with his face. You drew him from three different angles. Even if you were in a hurry, you still captured his soft features—his genuine smile and his gentle gaze.

"I- uh-I..." you fumbled, hands going in random directions over the paper.

"You don't have to hide it. I think it looks good." He smirked and went back to his desk.

"Thanks. Listen, I was taking a break, and I felt a bit of inspiration coming in-"

"You don't have to excuse yourself." He chucked and turned to face you. In that moment, you saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "I think it looks great, given how fast you draw."

"And given how much you fidget,"

He chuckled.

"Seriously, man, lay off that coffee."

You both laughed, making some people turn their attention to you out of curiosity. A quick glance around, and you quiet down a bit.

"If you want to finish, I'll try my best to stand still."

"I would appreciate that."

You both smiled at each other. Time went by fast, and by the time you finished, the office was empty. None of you felt the time passing by as you got to know each other better. Leon loved his portraits and "stole" your notebook.

He loved everything you did. Every gesture, every tic, everything was just perfect for him.

What he cherished most was your talent when it came to art. Everything you touched turned into a masterpiece, something so beautiful that it can’t be described by a simple man. So, when you wanted to paint him, he looked at you in shock.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Why?" he chuckled.

"Because I want to. And because I want an excuse to stare at your picture for hours while you are away on missions."

He pulled you closer and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Alright. Make sure to highlight my good side."

"As if you have a bad one."

Despite loving how affectionate and supportive you were with him, he never understood why. He viewed himself as a rough, cranky man who got on everyone's nerve. For short, an asshole. But to you, he wasn't like that. Despite the hardships in his life, he still maintained a soft gaze.

Naturally, he wondered why you wanted him to be part of your beautiful portfolio. And more importantly, did he deserve to be part of it?

For the next couple of days, he waited for you to finish. He would peek in your room to see the progress, but you didn't let him. You wanted to surprise him.

When he came back from his mission, arriving in your comfy apartment, you shoved your art in front of his face.

"Do you like it?" you asked excitedly.

He reluctantly took the canvas and stared at it for a few seconds. It's not that he didn't like it. It's the fact that he didn't recognize himself. His scars weren’t so prominent, his eyes weren't so full of sadness and anger, and his lips were curved in a soft smile. His features were softer, friendlier, even.

“This… I know it’s me, but it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.”

"Why do you say that?”

“It feels like you retouched my face.”

“Hmm, no, this is how you look in real life. You're not as tough-looking as you think."

He loves it regardless, and he loves you even more.

His muse in this life was you. Every time he looked at you, every time he saw your pretty face, his mood would lighten up in a heartbeat. A catastrophe at the moment would turn into something insignificant, something he could overcome with ease.

What he loved most about you was your talent. He was amazed at the beautiful things you could create with your hands, unlike him. He found refuge in your art, staring at your finished and unfinished projects for hours.

"Mi dulzura, what masterpieces are you creating?"

"Thank you, mi rey. Wanna be part of them?"

He smiled. He approached you with light footsteps, rubbing your shoulders gently when he reached your back.

"I'd be honoured."

He was thrilled. Being fascinated by your talent, he wanted to ask you long ago, but he didn't want to overcrowd you as you had many projects and clients. He didn't want to put more pressure. He simply told you that he doesn't want anything fancy.

He waited every day for you to finish, barely containing himself from asking dozens of questions. You had to kick him out multiple times from your room because you wanted to surprise him.

"Luis," you called out, "it's done!"

He came in a hurry, and as expected, he loved the result. He wouldn't stop praising you for creating another masterpiece.

"This is...I have no words. It's simply stunning."

"Well, you are stunning," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I guess I really am your Prince Charming."

You chuckled and were ready to say something, but he caught your lips in a quick, gentle kiss.

From that moment on, he becomes your one and only muse. You'd paint him in various poses and various clothes, sometimes with you as well. He would sit near you, watching you do your magic without saying a word. He loves and respects what you do a lot.

#resident evil #albert wesker #leon kennedy #luis sera #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy x reader #albert wesker x reader #luis serra x reader #jack krauser #jack krauser x reader #fluff #headcanons

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evilminji · 7 months

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We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.

Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra

Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.

Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.

Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.

Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.

Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .

I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.

Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.

Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.

Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.

Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.

Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master

Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.

(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)

Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp

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simpingforthemm · 3 months

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Hello angel face 🌷

I fell so head over heels in love with your writing ^-^

I was wondering if I could request a headcanon on dating Isaac from My life with the walter boys?

Sending you lots of love ♡

~ 🧸

dating isaac garcia headcanons

a/n: omg not you making me blush 🤭❤️ thank you so much ❤️❤️ and ofc! I really enjoyed writing this since Isaac is so asfjlskjk 😍 I hope you enjoy!

words: 1.4k

summary: what it would be like to date isaac garcia

• as we all know, Isaac is a total ladies man and he has girls all over town crushing on him

• but he's not searching for anything serious with any of them

• if he were to really get into a relationship, his girlfriend would have to stand out

• he wouldn't want to date someone who blindly falls for him without really knowing him

• he wants that slow-burn enemies to lovers typa shit 😌

• me personally I think Isaac would go for an outsider girl who's kinda mysterious

• also probably someone who has a good sense of style and an interest in fashion

• he wants a girl who doesn't just simply agree with everything he says or does, he wants her to call him out on his bullshit, scold him if he's being an asshole etc!

• bc even tho he loves all the attention he gets from girls and he loves when they swoon over him, that stuff can get boring real quick and he just wants someone to be real with him!

• when you first meet, you don't think much of Isaac

• you are of the opinion that he's arrogant af and extremely entitled

• he's the popular guy and you're just chilling with your small friend group, away from all the high school drama

• it's only when you're paired as lab partners in chemistry and have to sit next to each other that you're forced to talk more (forced proximity y'all 😌😌)

• you bicker for a few weeks, exchanging snarky comments

you: "you really have no idea what the periodic table is? fucking stupid ass himbo"

Isaac: "oh so you're saying I'm good looking? can't even insult me properly huh?"

you: "oh stfu"

• it's only until both of you burst out laughing at some stupid video the teacher showed you in class

• and both of you are looking at each other like ????

• "I didn't know you had a good sense of humor too?"

• then both of you find yourself more often than not laughing at the same things

• you start making jokes to each other in classes, still bickering with each other but the bickering turning more into play fighting??

• also now you don't despise having to work together as lab partners anymore

• sometimes you also purposely sit next to each other in different classes just because it's more fun together

• yet both of you would never admit that

• lots of people from school are surprised about your new acquaintance with Isaac bc what is this popular guy doing with this outsider girl?

• but Isaac doesn't care about what other people think bc you're actually really chill and fun to be around

• one day, Isaac decides he's sick of conversing with his admirers and finds that your bickering with him is far more interesting and also more intellectually stimulating (yes 😂) than just having a bunch of girls stare at him with heart eyes swooning over him and just nodding at everything he's saying

• so at lunch he goes over to your friend group's table (actually just you and your two friend's table 😌) and asks if he can sit with you

• your two friends are like : 🤨🤨🤨him?

• but you're like: nah nah guys he's cool

• so you guys are just chilling together for lunch and he realizes what he's been missing out on!!

• he actually gets along with you and your friends so well bc y'all are also fashion mfs like him and not football ppl like his other friends lmao (tho he mostly hangs out with his cousins)

• after lunch he asks you if you want to hang out after school sometime and chill just the two of you, which surprises you but ofc you say yes

• on your first hangout you go to get matcha 🍵 and talk about art (I could imagine that also being one of Isaac's interests) and fashion, also like your fav brands and stuff and how both of you want to model/design/study fashion etc. in your future

• you also deep talk about his dad a lil and how Isaac mostly grew up at the Walter's house bc his dad is in the army

• your hangouts get more frequent and soon you realize it's more than friendship for both of you and that you actually are like in love with each other

• both of you used to always chat during class and laugh together which you still do but now it's just with a little bit of tension and awkwardness bc you're now crushing on each other

"hahaha...yeah that was um... really funny😅haha"

• and somehow Isaac can't flirt with you like he does with other girls bc with the other girls it was never genuine, he didn't really care about them but with you it's like...

• he really likes you and he doesn't wanna f it up

• I think he would get a lil more touchy tho as he realizes he likes u

• for example: you're out at the cinema watching an indie movie together and he puts an arm around you

• you're like: you've never done that before 🤨🤨🤨

• but then you have to hide your blush bc omg!! 😳 he just put his arm around you

• I feel like Isaac is a scaredy cat so he tells you he loves you over text 😭

• he doesn't even tell you he likes you first, bro just goes all out with the L word

• you've just woken up, it's like 6am on a Sunday and you see a text from Isaac from like an hour ago 💀💀

• "I think I'm in love with you lmao"

• and you immediately call him bc wtf???

• you ask him: "is this one of your jokes?" bc ain't no way are you gonna confess too only to be told it's a prank

• "no, no... it's true"

• "and you decided to tell me this over text?? literally wtf Isaac"

• then you're silent for a while and just say "I can't believe I'm about to say this on the phone but...I feel the same"

• then you meet up that same day and the second you meet you're literally laughing saying: "literally wtf Isaac"

• "sorry I, uh.. didn't know how else to say it..", he says awkwardly, looking away bc he's blushingg

• "well, it's fine because.. I love you too"

• Isaac literally perks up even though you've already said you feel the same, it's different hearing you say it in front of him

• then you guys have your first kiss which is literally life changing for Isaac because so far he's only ever kissed girls like for fun and not because he's fallen for them

• so this is a very new experience for Isaac

• you show up as a couple at school the next day and walk the hallways holding hands 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

• everybody is confused and asks Isaac: "really? her?"

• he answers: "yeah, why? she's cool af?? and I'm literally in love with her??!!"

• so let's talk about your relationship

• you both match fits often and are basically the most stylish couple at school

• you also go thrifting together!

• you guys have a very strong emotional bond and talk about anything and everything literally

• you're his rock and his best friend, he tells you everything

• and by that I mean literally everything

• he also tells you about every prank he plans / has done and he also tells you about the putting bleach in Jackie's shampoo bottle prank

• which you immediately scold him for bc why is he putting that poor girl through this when she's literally still adjusting to the new life in the Walter's house after having to leave her home because her parents died?

• at school you go to Jackie to apologize for Isaac's behavior and offer to help with her hair, which she gladly accepts

• this leads to you and Jackie becoming best friends and to her joining your little friend group with your 2 friends

• (you guys are a better influence on her than Skylar and Grace)

• you also get invited to Walter family events, for example Will's wedding or Thanksgiving

• you can be a bit shy so you always cling to Isaac and Jackie whenever you're there

• But Katherine makes you warm up quickly with her good-hearted nature and you find yourself feeling comfortable in the Walter's home pretty soon

• you get along with Lee pretty well and you just fit in perfectly with the whole bunch

• your parents also love him bc he's literally your prince charming 💕

#🧸 anon #isaac garcia x reader #mlwtwb isaac x reader #mlwtwb x reader #mlwtwb #netflix #netflix my life with the walter boys #my life with the walter boys #isaac garcia #mlwtwb isaac garcia #isaac garcia x fem!reader #dating isaac garcia

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ofstarsandvibranium · 13 days

Text

Precious Truths: Part 14

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: yall i still can't believe sophie is asian. im so frickin happy dude. yerin is gonna be amazing. i just know it. anyway, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

You hide behind your hand as you snort with laughter. Benedict is beaming beside you. Hearing your laughter again makes his heart soar.

After your mother-in-law granted permission for his visitation, he immediately prepared himself for the trip to France. He was excited to see you, but he was also nervous. Therefore, he dragged Eloise with him. His younger sister wasn't in the mood to witness another pair of lovesick fools, however, she had never been to France. So she took up the opportunity to regardless. At the moment, a part of her regrets accompanying her brother.

"Hang on, how did you not know she was married?" Eloise asks Benedict.

"I never saw her wear a ring and her home didn't seem like a man lived in it!"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "How is it you always find yourselves in such situations, Ben?"

"Because he is an idiot, Y/N," Eloise responds and you laugh. Your laughter even brings a smile on Eloise's face, "Sorry to change the subject, but I hope you have been well, Y/N."

You softly smile at the young woman you always saw as a sister, "I'm getting better, Eloise. It definitely helps that you and Ben are here," you rest a hand on Benedict's and Eloise's, "Your company was very much needed."

"Always here to help," Benedict says softly.

"You didn't say long you'll be staying here for."

"Madame Montclair has allowed us a week, unless you grow tired of us."

You scoff, "I will never grow tired of you, Ben," realizing what you said you add, "And you, Eloise! Don't tell your siblings, but you two are probably my favorite Bridgertons."

Eloise hums, "Oh, please, Y/N. We already knew that," she bumps your shoulder with a cheeky grin and you two giggle.

Benedict watches as you and Eloise discuss your current works. Every once in a while, you'd turn to him and ask him a question. And every time your eyes fall upon him, the world goes quiet and he feels at ease.

________________________

Benedict gets along well with your mother and father-in-law. They, too, are fond of the arts and are in deep conversation with Benedict and his time at the academy here in France.

You can't help but feel a sense of pride fill you as Monsieur and Madame Montclair laugh at Benedict's jokes, praise him for his successes, and, overall, displays an openness to him. However, James had told you that is just how your mama and papa have always been. Good people.

Their relationship often makes you think if that's how your parents would have turned out if your mama hadn't passed early on. Would your father still love and care for you? Would he be happy and proud of your success as a writer?

The thought of him made you lose your appetite. You place your fork and knife down with a frown, immediately bringing you to the attention of papa.

"Are you alright, ma fille?"

"I apologize, I've suddenly lost my appetite. Is it alright if I step outside for a moment?"

Mama nods, "Yes, of course. Shall one of us go with you?"

"I will be alright. It'll just be for a moment, excuse me." You look to Ben with a nod and then to Eloise. Everyone watches as you exit the dining room.

Benedict clears his throat, "Forgive me if this seems inappropriate, but how has Y/N been doing from your perspective?" he asks the older couple, "She's only told me that she has her good days and bad days, but nothing truly more than that."

Madame Montclair sighs, dabbing at her lips with her napkin, "It is true. Much like my husband and I, Y/N feels as though she has accepted her life without James. Other days, it's hard to even go about her day without being stricken with grief. But as the months have come and gone, I think she is slowly healing. Her desire to go back out into the world becoming stronger and stronger. She will be going back to London after your visit."

Benedict and Eloise look at each other in surprise, "She hadn't told us that yet."

"Ah. Well, I apologize for that. I'm sure she was going to tell you. But I do think it's good that you two are here. I can already see she's happier."

Benedict softly smiles and nods, "Yes, well, my sister and I care a great deal about Y/N."

"That much is very clear, Mister Bridgerton," Monsieur Montclair says, "And I hope when she returns to London, you continue to care for her. We, too care a great deal about her." The older man gives a stern look to Benedict, one like a father scolding a son.

Benedict nervously clears his throat, "Yes, of course, sir."

_______________________

You're sitting on a bench outside, letting the air cool you. You're not sure how long you've been out there, but Benedict comes out with concern etched all over your face. He sits beside on the bench, hand grabbing yours to warm them, "Are you alright?" he asks, using his breath to warm your now cold fingers.

You sigh, "Yes. I'm sorry to leave dinner like that."

"It's fine. I just want to know what happened."

"Just watching James' parents made me think of my own. They made me wonder if, had mama not died, would they end up like that? Happy and proud of me? Would papa still love me and admire my work rather than scold me and cast me aside?"

Benedict squeezes your hand, "I understand. I, too, often think about how life would be if my father didn't pass. But I think it's best not to dwell on those things. If you get too caught up in it, you miss out on the wonderful things that are happening now right in front of you."

You hum, looking down at your fingers intertwined with Benedict's, "My aunt once told me after my mama passed, that in death, there is life. New beginnings. I suppose she is right. After mama's death, started my desire to publish my writings. With James' death, he brought you back into my life." You stare into Benedict's eyes, seeing how soft they are as they look back at you.

You find yourself leaning closer and Benedict is too, "Ben-"

"Everything alright?" you hear Eloise as she approaches and you two immediately create some distance between each other.

You clear your throat and look over your shoulder, "Yes! We were just about to head back inside."

"Very well. Make haste, it's cold out!"

___________________________

Your almost kiss with Benedict kept you up that night. You've been mentally scolding yourself for your weak resolve. He had only been staying with you for a few days and you are already throwing yourself at him. Your heart has always been weak when it came to Benedict. Even after falling in love with James, your love for him never compared to the love you had for Benedict. You always knew this.

However, it hasn't been a year since James had passed and you're already moving on with another man. You can't in good conscience do such a thing to James like that, even if he already knew how your heart had always belonged to Benedict.

Still. You need to control yourself around Benedict no matter how much your heart yearns for him.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfic #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader

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roryculkinluvr · 1 year

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heyo :3 just wondering if you could write about charlie walker having a massive crush on reader, making him all shy and flustered. then reader and charlie get partnered up in a class project so they have to study together- charlie ends up confessing and it ends in some sub!charlie smut? ty if you do this, love ur writing c:

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

➸ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!virgin!charlie walker x fem!virgin!reader

➸ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: smut, sexual themes, pet names (baby, good boy, angel, etc), p in v, loss of virginity, protected sex, oral (fem received), cum eating, charlie sucks on readers tits, slight mommy kink, dirty talk.

➸ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i’m sorry this took me so long to write, it’s much longer than i meant it to be but i hope you enjoy!

charlie had always had crush on you, since freshman year to be exact. the first time he saw you, he became completely and utterly infatuated with you.

senior year was the first time charlie made a move. he took the opportunity when the two of you were in english class, your teacher paired you with charlie for an assignment. a smirk spread across charlie’s mouth as your name left the teachers mouth after his own. his you watched his cheeks turn bright pink when you flashed him a quick smile then turned back to the chalkboard.

once the bell rang, you waited for charlie to pack up so that you two could discuss the project. “hey charlie?”

his gaze shifted from his backpack to you. “hmm?” he hummed with a nod.

“i know it’s a friday, but if you’re not doing anything, we could get together tonight and get started.” you suggested. he began walking towards you, the corners of his mouth turning up as he eyed the dress you wore.

“yeah for sure, do you um… would you wanna come to my house?” he asked, stumbling over his words. you found it endearing that he got nervous around you.

“i’d love that, can i come at six?” you questioned. charlie followed beside you as you left the classroom, entering the hallway.

“yeah, i’ll text you my address.” he responded. charlie was trying so hard to sound ‘nonchalant’.

“perfect. i’ll see you then.” you beamed, turning around to go to your next class.

“see you then.” he echoed. charlie watched as you walked to walked away, shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

at six, you rang charlie’s doorbell, he opened the door and gave you a half smile. he analyzed every inch of your body, you wore the same sleeveless dress that drove him insane earlier that day. it was casual yet sexy, short but modest and a light jacket was covering your arms, hiding your bare skin. “hi charlie.”

“hi” he said in a breathy voice, butterflies swarmed in his stomach. “come in.” you stepped inside as he shut the door behind you.

although you had known charlie for four years, this was your first time in his house. you scanned the walls that were cloaked with old family photos and art work. you could feel charlie’s eyes on you as you admired his parents’ taste in art.

“you know it’s rude to stare charlie.” you teased. he let out a nervous laugh.

“my fault, you just look nice is all.” he couldn’t look into your eyes.

“thank you charlie, that’s so sweet.” you turned back to a picture of charlie and his mother when he was around six or seven.

whilst examining the interior of charlie’s home, you realized how quiet it was. “are your parents home?” you wondered.

he shook his head. “no they’re out of town til monday.” he explained as he led you to the downstairs living room.

it was spacious and nicely furnished, what really caught your eye was the bookcase beside the tv. it was overflowing with endless DVDs. “do you just have every movie?” you joked as your finger ran along one of the shelves. you were honestly impressed, it seemed as charlie owned every film you could name.

your comment was met with short laugh. “basically.” he responded. charlie sat down on his large couch, placing his school bag on the coffee table. you did the same before removing your jacket, resting it beside you.

charlie couldn’t help but notice how close you sat to him, especially given the amount of space you could’ve occupied. the bare skin that poked out of his t-shirt brushing yours made goosebumps paint his skin.

charlie fixed his gaze on you as you pulled a pencil and paper out of your bag. “so, i was actually thinking we could do something film related for our project. we pretty much have free reign over the research topic. so, maybe like comparing certain aspects of a specific movie to it’s book?” charlie proposed. he studied your expressions closely, desperately hoping you didn’t think his idea was stupid.

“that’s perfect.” you responded. you and charlie began to jot down your ideas stemming from charlie’s suggestion.

you both worked on the project for hours, taking quick glaces at each other and looking away anytime one of you thought the other was about to look up. it was half pass nine when you realized how much time had gone by. “oh shit.” you mumbled after checking your watch. charlie looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, confused with your distresss. “it’s almost ten, i’m sorry for keeping you working this late.”

“i didn’t mind at all” he put down his pencil and looked up, into your eyes. “i was actually thinking you could maybe stay a little longer.” he offered.

“oh?“ you tried your best to hide the grin that was forming on your face.

“yeah, i like this.” you gave him a puzzled look. “like i mean i like you.” he explained. you smiled at him, this calmed his anxiety flooded brain. “i have for a while.”

“me too.” you revealed. you watched charlie’s eyes brighten as you said this.

he stared at your lips hesitantly, failing to make eye contact. as charlie leaned in closer, so did you. the pace of his heartbeat was so rapid that you could almost hear it. you parted your lips slightly and charlie met them for a kiss. but, he pulled away almost instantly. charlie was still so close that you could feel his heavy, nervous breath on your mouth. “was that okay?” he asked softly.

without answering, you cupped the side of his face and pressed your lips against his. charlie couldn’t explain it, but he felt warm all over. as the boy became more comfortable, he placed one hand on your leg, the other on your waist. he broke the kiss again, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.” he panted. you pecked his lips quickly.

“why don’t you tell me how long char?” you purred.

“ninth grade, been wanting to kiss you since i met you.” he admitted. you beamed at him before exploring his lips again, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. this made charlie hum into your mouth, his lips became sloppy and needy against yours.

“want you so bad” he breathed, between kisses.

“yeah? what do you want me to do?” you teased. your fingers played with his hair, making his cheeks turn bright pink.

“anything… anything you want.” he stammered. when charlie said anything, he meant it. he would’ve done anything and everything you asked him to. he was all yours.

“i want you to tell me what you want charlie.” you insisted.

“i want you to fuck me” he mumbled. his eyes focused on his hands, too flustered to meet your eyes.

“hm? couldn’t hear you.” you teased.

“i said, i want you to fuck me… please.” he repeated, the plead sounded desperate, almost whiny.

“yeah? have you ever done that before?” you questioned.

he shook his head, embarrassment displayed on his face. “no, have you?” he responded.

“no.” you answered. charlie was suprised by this. he didn’t think you were a slut or anything of the sort, he just couldn’t believe that he has a chance to be your first and to have you as his.

he put his hand over yours. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” he spoke to you so gently.

“i want to charlie.” you assured him. “are you sure you want to?” he nodded his head eagerly.

“i’m definitely sure.” with that, you kissed him again, charlie kissed back so passionately, your tongues lapping.

“then take me to your room char.” you directed. charlie led you to his room which was conveniently, also downstairs.

his room was surprisingly tidy for an eighteen year old boy. the bed was neatly made, there were no clothes scattered on the floor (yet) and everything seemed as it had its own place. the walls were covered in film and music posters.

charlie sat on his bed, his back against his headboard. you walked over to him straddling his lap, feeling him grow harder under you. he brought his large hands to your waist and you attached your lips to his neck, tracing sloppy kisses down it.

charlie took one hand to your shoulder, toying with the strap of your dress. “can i take this off, please?” he asked.

you removed your lips from his hickey stained collarbone to look at him. “only because you asked so nicely.” you joked. charlie pulled your dress down, it sat at your hips. under your dress you wore a baby pink lace bra.

“you’re so perfect.” he slammed his lips against yours before removing his shirt.

you traced charlie’s abs with your finger. “you know, you can take my bra off if you want.” his breath hitched just from those words.

charlie fumbled with the clasp of you bra, you tossed it aside. he sharply inhaled. charlie’s brain went fuzzy from the sight of you boobs. “fuck…” he sighed.

“you wanna touch them?” you teased. charlie nodded instantly.

“go ahead charlie.” he kneaded one of your tits, bringing his mouth to the other. he hummed in pleasure while he sucking on it. charlie flicked your hard nipple with his tongue, he could’ve came in his pants from just this.

“i need you, i’ll be so good for you. you have no idea how bad i need you.” charlie whined.

“want me to fuck you so bad hm?” you taunted.

“please.” he groaned before leaving a soft peck on your boob.

“please what?” you teased. charlie felt so pathetic (but he loved it).

“please fuck me.” he said in a high pitched whine.

“such a good boy” charlie whimpered at your praise. you moved off of him, pulling your dress down entirely along with the shorts underneath. he removed his pants, you could see his painfully hard cock through his boxers.

you laid on his bed, propping yourself up on your elbows. charlie sat beside you, rummaging in his nightstand for a condom. once he found one, he removed his boxers and rolled it over his dick. the sight of his tip leaking with pre cum somehow made you even more wet then you already were.

charlie moved on top of you. he wanted so bad to taste you or make you feel good first, but he was so needy. you brought your hand to his cock, pumping it a few times. “m’so wet charlie, bet you want.”

“gonna make you feel good, i promise.” he said before lowering himself into you slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

you hissed at the new sensation. “does that feel okay? i don’t want to hurt you.” he panicked.

“feels so good, just needed a second. you can move now.” you answered. charlie kissed you before thrusting into you, he rested his head in the crook of your neck, whispering compliments into your ear.

“you’re so beautiful.” “you’re so good to me.” “feels better than i ever thought.”

his pace was slow, he needed more. “can i go faster?” he breathed.

“say please.” you kidded.

“please, please let me go faster please. i need it so bad.” he begged into your ear. you bit you lip.

“so needy for me char, yeah you can baby.” calling him that name alone forced a drawn out moan out of his mouth.

charlie move so that he was looking at you, placing his hands around your waist as he began pumping in and out of you faster than before. “mmm fuck! feels so good, you can go even faster if you want.” you cooed. charlie’s eyes widened at your words.

“m’so close.” he sobbed, watching your tits bounce as he pushed into you so quickly.

“not yet char, can you be a good boy for me and hold it?”

“yes.” he nodded.

“then say it.” you demanded.

“sa-say what?” he babbled. his eyebrows furrowed, charlie could barely form thoughts overwhelmed with pleasure.

“say you’ll be a good boy for me.”

“ahhh! fuck! i’ll be a good boy for you baby.” he groaned. he pumped into you rapidly, his skin slapping against yours. the room filled with both of your loud moans.

you felt charlie’s dick twitch inside you a few times, before his cum spilt out into the condom. his breath was incredibly shaky as high pitched whimpers left his lips. “don’t wanna stop, m’gonna make you cum too mommy.” charlie told you.

“such a good boy. m’so close, fuck!” you moaned. “gonna cum soon.”

“can, ahh! can i taste it? please?” charlie pleaded. “always thought about what you would taste like.”

“yes charlie, fuck!” charlie removed his cock from your dripping wet pussy, laying down in front of it. his mouth met your cunt, swirling his tongue on your clit.

“just like that char, feels so fucking good.” you cried as your hips bucked into charlie’s face whist you tugged on his hair. charlie sucked, kissed and licked at your sensitive pussy. “i’m gonna cum now char!”

you felt the built up tension break as you came into charlie’s mouth, he licked up every last drop of it hungrily. “you taste so, so good mommy.” he cooed.

“come here.” he quickly laid beside you, turning to face you.

“was, was i good?” charlie asked, out of breath.

“charlie, you were perfect. you’re my good boy.” you praised, stroking the side of his face.

“mmm thank you angel, only your good boy.” he told you.

“how was that your first time?” you were so shocked that charlie could make you feel that good, given that he was a virgin.

“i’ve thought about this a lot, about us.” he replied.

“me too char, all the time.”

“do you want to spend the night?” you grinned at his question. “my parents aren’t going to be home for a couple days.” he reminded you.

“of course i do.” you chimed.

charlie gave you a kiss, “perfect, let me get us cleaned up.”

#🩰 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐚𝐯𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬!#💋𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#🎀 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 *ੈ✩‧₊˚#rory culkin #rory culkin fanfic #culkin brothers #charlie walker #charlie walker smut #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker x y/n #charlie walker x you #charlie walker x reader #sub! charlie walker #scream #scream franchise #rory culkin scream 4 #scream 4 #charlie walker scream 4 #scream 2011

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aticklishpercivalwriter · 1 month

Text

What Are you Hiding There, My Bee~? (fic)

Link to Full Art (credits go to @lyrieeeee): Sethos/Scaramouche

Summary: During a picnic, Scaramouche discovers that Sethos has a back window and takes full advantage of it :P

A/N: This is the first fic of a series of SethoScara fics I have planned out. A total of three (maybe more) including this one. Though, you can consider My Honey ♡ My Bee as part one establishing their relationship. Inspiration for this fic comes from this artwork along with this submission from @vaporized-dimsum. I hope you all enjoy reading this one! It was very fun for me to write it! Though the title of this fic was hard to create :( Also, proud to say I typed 51% of this while I was on vacation on my iPod Touch 2nd Generation ;) One last thing, be sure to complete the poll at the end to have a say where Scara should be tickled. It is time for Sethos to get revenge~

Word Count: 2561

Also on AO3!

—

Sethos and Scaramouche were having a picnic. Scara initially refused but eventually gave in because of Sethos’ persistence. So here he was, running his fingers through his lover’s hair and feeling the soft strands.

“Having fun over there, honey~” Sethos teased.

Are you having fun with my hat, annoying bee?” Scara huffed.

“Aw, still sulky about having a picnic with me?”

“You are so annoying.”

Wanderer refused to admit that he was actually enjoying this mundane activity of a picnic.

“Lighten up. Here,” the leader of the Temple of Silence set down Scara’s hat and turned around, handing him one of the cooked dishes he packed. “You haven’t eaten yet. Try my signature dish. I know you’ll like it.”

“And what makes you think I’ll like your cooking?” he asked, dropping Sethos’ hair in annoyed disappointment. Why do I like his hair so much?

“Because I only make the best of the best for my boyfriend!~”

“Tch,” he felt his face start to heat up and grabbed the food from Sethos’ hands to hide his incoming blush.

“Stop saying words like that,” he mumbled, taking a bite from his boyfriend’s cooking.

Oh shit. It’s good.

The former god’s eyes widened in disbelief at the explosion of tastes hitting him as he took another bite.

“So, you like it?”

“It’s really-” he was about to compliment him, but he saw the smug look in his eyes.

“Actually, it’s really terrible.”

“Now, now love~” Sethos singsonged. “I know you’re lying. I saw the look in your eyes~”

“You saw nothing.”

“What about that bite you just took?”

“That was for your pride, so it won’t take a hit.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Wan,” Sethos laughed and leaned on him.

“Hmph,” he grumbled.

Sethos dropped his teasing and went to grab and admire his lover's hat instead. Laying on his belly, his long locks covering his entire back.

“What’s your deal with my hat anyway?” Scara asked, ignoring the craving to just comb his fingers through his bee’s hair.

“It’s so cool! The patterns, ornaments, and accessories are so detailed!”

“If you want it, you can take it.”

“Really?!”

Sethos giddily grinned, putting his lover’s hat on with a cheeky smirk as he faced him.

“You want to use my hat as an umbrella?” Sethos imitated him.

“That’s not how-”

“The fucking audacity to make that request.”

Sethos burst out laughing and fell forward into Scara's lap.

“That’s not how I sound like,” Scara glared at him.

“Noho, that is hohow you sound lihike.”

Sethos continued to laugh, making Scara’s hat fall off and parting his long locks. Scara’s eyes widened when he saw a sliver of skin shine in the sunlight.

“I didn’t know you had a back window,” he reached out in awe. “Why do you even-”

“HYAHAHA!”

He jolted in his lover’s lap, letting out a bright shrill of laughter, distinct from his laughing right before.

“That was…uh…” Sethos’ eyes darted up towards his lover who had a hint of mischief running through his eyes.

“What are you hiding there, my bee~?”

“Eek! I-I gotta head out now. Haha! N-Need to run some errands so bye!”

Sethos made a run for it, activating his Electro powers. Wanderer just watched him, slowly getting up and picking up his hat. A shit-eating grin grew on his face. It hasn’t even been a week since he tickled Sethos, but he has been craving to hear his delicious laughter and just get his hands on him.

“Get back here, little bee~”

Sethos felt shivers travel down his spine as he heard those words and ran even faster. He saw Wanderer’s shadow in front of him and went into panic mode.

“I’m getting closer, love~,” he heard from above.

“N-No you’re nohohot!” he squeaked out, reversing his direction to throw his pursuer off.

But he knows he’s winning a losing battle. The sounds of Wanderer’s clothing becoming louder with each passing second.

Scara was having the time of his life making Sethos let out little squeaks and giggles trying to run away from him. He also had a great view of his physique and his muscular arms. The way the sweat made his skin glisten and- What am I thinking!? He shook his head and eyed his prize, the back window. His lover’s hair swayed back and forth, his back window coming in and out of view as if teasing Scara.

“Dumb little bee,” he huffed to himself.

By now, he was right on top of Sethos and smirked devilishly.

“Coming down~”

Sethos didn’t have time to react as he was tackled down to the ground from above.

“Oof! Hon- Whoa-whoa-whoaah!”

Sethos lost his footing and Wanderer managed to shield his head in his arms right before they started tumbling down the hill. Thankfully it was a grassy hill as they rolled and rolled until they reached the bottom.

“Ugh,” Sethos groaned, face down in the grass as he turned his face to the side once he felt Scara get off him. “At least it wasn’t saAHAHAHA-!”

Sethos let out a shriek as he felt a finger scratch the patch of skin exposed on his back.

“MoCHIHIhi!” He tried raising himself but immediately felt his lover straddle him and a sudden squeeze on his sides. “EYAHAHAHA!”

His hands gave out and his body shook with laughter as Wanderer scribbled his fingers over his back.

“Ihihi dihihidn’t eheheven dohoho ahahanythihihing! Why ahaham ihihi gehehetihing tihihickled?”

“Oh, you did do something, little bee,” he said, grazing his fingers against his clothed shoulder blades. Eheheheek!

Wanderer couldn’t help but chuckle at Sethos’ reactions. He’s cute when he laughs and giggles like this.

“Whahat dihihid ihihi- WAHAHAIT!” Sethos yelped when he felt Scara lift up his clothing, exposing his back to the warm breeze. “Hohonehehey! Dohohon’t dohoho ihihit! Plehehease!

“Do what?”

“Tihihihickle mehehe! Whahat elSEHEHE- NOHOHOHAHAHA!”

“I thought you would never ask~”

His devious lover smirked as he now properly tickled his back. His fingers scribbled over the ticklish real estate.

“WAHAHA! T-ThAHAt’s NOHOHOT waHAHAt I MEAhaHANT!”

“You said, ‘Tickle me,’ didn’t you? What else am I supposed to do, not tickle you? You asked for it, little bee~” Scara smirked, planting kisses on the ticklish skin as his fingers trailed down his spine.

Sethos shook his head in ticklish mirth, grass falling out of his hair as he tried to reach behind him to fend off Scara’s fingers but to no avail.

“Youhu arEHEHE usIHIHing myhy wohohords aga- AHAHAHA! ahahagainst MEHEHE, MOCHIHIHI!”

He scoffed, “Since you care so much about words, try to spell what I’m writing then.”

He slid his fingers meticulously across his lover’s back, focusing on his shoulder blades.

“AHAHAHA!” Sethos screeched. “IHIHI’M NOHOHOT REHEHEHADY!”

“Wrong answer~” Scara grinned, squeezing his side.

“NAHAHA! OkaHAHAY! OkAHay! Uhh, ehehe! ‘L’ Ahaha! ‘O-’ GAHAHA! NOHOHO!” Sethos let out a loud laugh when Scara traced the third letter on his spine.

“You want to give up?”

“NEHEHEVER! ‘VehEHEHE!’”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you~”

“‘VEHEHE!’ ’V!’ aHAHand ‘EHEHE!’ ‘E!’ MOCHIHIHI!”

“And it spells?”

“LOHOHOHOVE!”

“Wha-”

“LOVE! LOHOHOVE! LOVEHEHE!”

Scara’s hands stilled in surprise, not expecting him to answer correctly.

“Yeah,” he said, continuing his onslaught of scribbles. Hehehey! Ihihihi answerehehed correhehectly! “How about this one?” he asked, ignoring his lover’s protests.

He increased the pressure of his writing and instead of letters, he started drawing a few shapes.

“WHAhahat arehehe thOHOSE!? ThOHose areHEhen’t WOHOHORDS! AHAHAHA!”

“Well, use letters to create a word to name them. Shouldn’t be too hard since you are a master spelling bee, aren’t you~?” Scara knows he is being cruel, but he can’t help but want to take victory in this game.

Sethos had tears of mirth threatening to fall but that wasn’t going to make him back down from the challenge. He tried to focus, focusing on his lover’s fingers. How they know their way to make him laugh and draw out the reactions they want.

“NOHOHOHOT THAHAHAT FOHOCUS!” he pounded his fists into the ground as a guffaw of laughter left his lips.

His lover just raised an eyebrow in amusement, fluttering the feather on his vision in place of his fingers and enjoying the way his back repeatedly arched up and down.

Ticklish shocks ran through Sethos’ body, but he wasn’t ready to give up. He focused once again, visualizing the shapes that Scara was tracing on his back. A circle, ahahaha! He’s merciless! Nehehe, a heart. And…a zig-zag? Heheahaha! Darn, my ticklish back!

“Ahaha! A ciRIHIcleHE! CIRCLEHE! HEART! AHAHAHAND! ZIHIHIG-ZAHAHAG! ZIG-ZAHAG!”

Scara was yet again surprised, more so than last time.

Shit, he is really good at this. Tch, I’ll just need to trick him then. Use his ability to my advantage.

“Dihihid Ihihi wihihin?” Sethos giggled, a hint of smugness laced in his voice.

“You are a cocky, little bee,” Scara dug into the back of his ribs in punishment.

“HAHAHAHA! WAHAHAHA! I’M SOHOHOHRRY! I’M SORREHEHEY! I’M SAHAHAHARRY! NAHAHAHA!”

Scara roughly tickled him for a couple more minutes before letting up.

“Nohoho mohohore, plehehease!”

“Serves you right.”

Scara placed his hands on his lover’s back once more, making him yelp in surprise.

“Mohohore?” he whined.

“Mhm,” Scara hummed. “You guess this right, you win.”

Scara traced Sethos’ back more lightly this time, almost like a caress. Sethos happily giggled, his head resting on his arm as he turned to the side with a carefree smile on his face.

“Thihihis ihihis prehehetty nihihice, ehehe.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Scara said, tracing down his spine.

He twitched in Scara’s hold in surprise. “AHAHahaHA! OhHOHo rigHIhigHT!”

Scara snorted and started tracing the letters again.

“’Tehehe’ ‘Ihi’ uhuhum ‘C’ ‘KehHEHE’ ‘L-Ehehe’ ahahAHA! ‘M’ ‘Ehe!’”

“And what does that spell?” A smug expression crossed Scara’s face as he continued his soft tracing.

“Ahahahaehehe! ‘Tihihickle Mehe!’”

“Come again, little bee~” Scara teased, stopping his tracing.

“Tickle Me!”

A beat passed before Sethos’ eyes widened like saucers in realization and he turned to look at him.

“Honey. You are so eHEHEVIHIHIL! NAHAHAHA!”

He shoved his face back into his arm as Scara ruthlessly scribbled his fingers on his skin.

“I honestly can’t believe you fell for it twice, my ticklish bee~”

“YOUHUHUHU WEHEHEHERE DIHIHISTRAHACTING MEHEHE! I-I COHOHOULDN’T THI- AHAHAHAHA! THINK!”

“Doesn’t change the fact you still said it,” he stuck out his tongue at him even though he couldn’t see him.

“MOCHIHIHI!” he shrieked when he felt him target the spot where his back window would be if his clothing were not lifted up. “YOUHUHU PLAHAHAYED DIHIHIRTY!”

“How could I have played dirty? You correctly said the two words I was drawing, and you won.”

“WEHEHELL, HAHAHAHA! Y-YOUHUHU STIHIHILL PLAHAHAYED DIHIHIRTY! THIHIHIS IHIHIS YOUR EXCUSEHE TOHOHO TIHIHICKLE MEHEHEHE! YOUHU JUHUST COUHULDN’T ACCEHEPT THE FAHACT I WAS BEHEATING YOUHU AT YOUR OHOWN GAHAME! AHAM IHIHI RIGHIT?”

The tickling suddenly stopped and Sethos gulped in some much-needed air. He took the time to catch his breath and regain his energy. A few minutes passed of him just panting and the wind brushing the blades of grass around them. It was then that Sethos realized that Wanderer, who was still on top of him, wasn’t saying anything.

“Lov-Ow!”

Scara suddenly shifted forward and nipped at his ear.

“What was-”

“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?” Scara directly whispered into his ear making him shudder. His voice was much deeper and threatening, making Sethos gulp in nervousness.

"You want to see how I really play dirty?”

Sethos could hear the smirk in his voice, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. Whether they were from excitement or fear or even both, he didn’t know. He tried to speak but no words came out.

“Where is all that bravado now, my bee?”

Scara grabbed Sethos’ chin and turned his head towards him. Sethos saw the look in his lover’s eyes and audibly gulped, heart pounding in his chest. Scara's violet eyes shined with hunger and that smirk turned into a devilish grin when he saw his reaction.

“I have one word for you,” he leaned even closer to him, making him squirm in his hold. “Raspberries.”

Before Sethos could even process what he said, he immediately succumbed to laughter with Scara blowing raspberry after raspberry on his back.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHON- AHAHAHAHA! PLE- HAHAHAHA!” Sethos couldn’t even finish his words as Wanderer mercilessly wrecked him with raspberries.

“Pfft!” His spine.

“NAHAHAHAHA!”

“PfFFTt!” His shoulder blades.

“GAHAHAHAHA!”

“PFFFFTTT!” His back window.

“BWAHAHAHAHA!”

And to make matters worse for him, he started drilling his fingers into his sides and armpits along with scribbles on the back of his ribs.

“EYAHAHAHAHA!”

Sethos was in hysterics as he pounded the ground with his fists and kicked his legs out.

“SCA- AHAHAHAHAHA! SCAHAHAHA- HAHAHAHA! SCAHAHAHARAHAHAHA!”

“That is my name, ticklish bee.”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP! I-I’M GONNA DIEHEHEHE! AHAHAHAHAHA!

“Apologize.”

“I-I CAHAHAHAN’T- GAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Guess you chose death.”

“NOHOHOHO! WAI- AHAHA! WAHAHAHAIT! OKAHAHAHAY! I-I’M SOHOHOHORRY FOHOHOR SAHAHAYING THOHOHOSE THIHIHINGS TOHOHOHO YOUHUHU!”

“Hmm.”

“WHAHAHAHAT EHEHEHELSE DO YOUHUHU WAHAHAHANT MEHEHEHE TOHOHOHO- BWAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! STAHAHAHAP!”

“Beg.”

“WAHAHAHAHAT?”

“Plead for it, nicely.”

“AHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO WAHAHAHAY! snort D-DOHOHOHOHON’T- GAHAHAHAHAHA! snort”

“I’m waiting~”

“N-NEHEHEHEVER! Y-YOU- snort NAHAHAHA W-WOHOHON'T GEHEHET IHIHIT OHOUT OHOF MEHEHE!"

"Oh, you're going to wish you never said those words. Laugh before me, my ticklish bee~"

Scara mustered all the breath he could take before letting out the biggest and loudest raspberry he could right on poor Sethos' back window and repeating it over and over all while spidering his fingers all over the rest of his back. The last of Sethos' defense came tumbling down soon after.

"GAHAHAHAHA! snort NONONOHOHOHO! FINE! snort FHIHIHINE! WAHAHAHANDEHEHE! STAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEASE! snort SCAHAHAHAHARA! MYHYHY BELOHOHOVED HOHOHONEHEY! I’M BEHEHEHEGGING YOUHUHU! snort BWAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIT’S TOHOHOHOO MUHUHUHCH! snort PLEHEHEASE! HAHAHAVE MEHEHEHERCY! MEHEHERCEHEHEHEY!”

Oh my archons, he is so adorable.

Scara smiled endearingly at him, at last giving him mercy. He trailed little kisses and raspberries from his back to his neck and eventually turned him over onto his back and went in for a slow, sensual kiss which Sethos immediately melted into.

“Mmm~ Scaraah~ mmph~”

“Mm~ Sethohh~ Hahh~”

They made out for a few minutes, combing their fingers through each other’s hair and exploring each other’s mouths before pulling away. Breathless, they stared at one another taking in each other’s flushed face before Sethos started giggling.

“Your tickling was ruthless!” Sethos managed to say in between giggles.

“But you liked it~”

Sethos looked away blushing but didn’t deny it.

Wanderer chuckled, lifting himself up and picking Sethos up bridal style.

“Let’s finish our picnic.”

“Oh, when did you become such a romantic?~ Ack! Sohohorry!”

“If you don’t shut up, I won’t do this again.”

He was blushing and looking straight ahead as he went up the hill. Sethos glanced at him before closing his eyes in exhaustion with an understanding smile on his face.

“I love you, honey.”

A smile tugged at Scara’s lips.

“I love you too, bee.”

Sethos fell asleep in his arms soon after and curled in towards his chest. He shook his head fondly.

“Let’s go home instead.”

He silently called upon the Aranara to pack up their things and that he’d pick them up later. After thanking them, he set off towards their home and he looked back down at Sethos’ sleeping form. He smiled lovingly at him and planted a kiss on his temple.

“Sleep well, my lovely, ticklish bee.”

—

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