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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

Text

Make Your Choice

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Listen to Gentrify - Da Vosk Docta whilst reading ;)

Read part II here

Characters: Lo’ak Sully (20) x Na'vi Reader y/n (20) x Neteyam Sully (21)

Warnings: NSFW, pure filthy smut, profanity, oral sex, edging, foreplay, consensual king neteyam, impatient dom lo’ak, see warning re incest below

❗️I don’t see this as incest because they are not engaging with each other - only with the reader. They take turns, and don’t touch each other in any sexual way. However, this does involve them both sexually engaging with the same person. Do with this info as you will. Do not engage if this is a trigger for you.❗️

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: Thank you anon, I love this idea. Sorry I took so long to get to your request, as well as all the other requests. See my post about requests, here.

Synopsis: Neteyam and Lo’ak both have a major crush on you. They’ve been fighting over you since childhood, and now that you’re all grown up, they take turns showing you who you should choose, once and for all.

Tags: @pandorxx (check out their ‘both’ series!) @lovekeeho @jakexneytiri

Intro:

Lo’ak and Neteyam have been fighting over you since childhood. Boasting about who could do what better – engaging in endless banshee and sparing matches to prove it to you. They did everything they could to win your heart over. You’ve always struggled to choose. Both were just so delicious – both perfect in their own ways. It was, and still is, the hardest decision of your life. Until one day, sitting in your tent, they decided that they’ve had enough of this long, drawn out competition – they wanted settle this once and for all.

----

“We settle this, today.” Neteyam growls, poking his younger brother’s chest.

“Yeah? Fine with me.” Lo’ak snarls, coming face to face with Neteyam.

They both slowly turn to you, undressing you with their dark, smouldering eyes.

“Y/n.” They say in unison.

Your eyes widen at the sight of their ominous demeanour. “Guys...” You mutter, taking a few steps back, looking back and forth between the two brothers that tower over you. “How exactly are we ‘settling’ this?” You ask slowly, with a shaky voice.

“Let’s face the facts.” Lo’ak begins.

“After so many years we have proved to you that we are both mighty warriors...” Neteyam steps towards you.

“...and we’re so handsome...” Lo’ak continues, as Neteyam rolls his eyes.

“...but who will make the better mate?” They tease simultaneously, inching in even closer to you. They look at each other, and grin, as if they were about to compete in the biggest challenge yet.

“What do we start with first? A kiss?” Neteyam suggests, raising his eyebrows.

Lo’ak scoffs. “C’mon, bro. Such a wuss.” Lo’ak smirks, turning to face you. “How about I give you the best head of your life?”

Neteyam head snaps toward you. “No. I, will be the one to give you that, y/n.” he comes closer you.

Lo’ak comes between you and Neteyam, shoving him away from you. Neteyam rushes towards Lo’ak, towering over him with clenched fists. Lo’ak peers up at him through hooded eyes, also assuming a hostile position. You come to the realization that this has gone way too far and needs to be settled. You quickly come between them, separating them with your hands.

“Boys.” You mutter, feeling their chests press against your hands, closing in on you. “Boys!” You shout, finally getting their attention. “Stop! We’ll do it. Okay?” You lower your voice, shaking your head to look at them both. “But we do it fair... just don’t fucking fight.”

They ease off, surprised by your intervention, and create space between each other. You exhale, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, and back up as well. They stand far from you, huffing and puffing from the adrenaline that courses through their bodies. Your eyes swing back and forth between the two, trying to decide who goes first.

Your eyes fall on the shorter boy, looking him up and down – lean, yet chiselled, younger, and gregarious. Eventually, your eyes settle on the taller boy, lingering as you examine his body thoroughly – muscular, yet tall and slim, mature, and reserved.

“Neteyam. You’re first.” You mutter, holding eye contact with the golden saucers that gaze down at you.

A smile plasters on his face. “Smart choice, my love.” He inches in closer to you, shortening the distance between your lips and his. He lingers there, allowing his lips to brush against yours as you both share each other’s breaths. “Can I kiss you?”

Lo’ak rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and seats himself at the back of the tent to watch the show.

“Yes.” You breathe into his mouth, closing your eyes.

He kisses you slowly, and passionately, following your lead to determine what feels good for you. He gently sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before his tongue asks for permission to swirl around yours. You melt into his kiss, allowing your tongue to intertwine with his as he runs his fingers through your hair. Feeling your body heat up from his sensual touches, you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth. You pull away suddenly, panting from the heat in your chest. You swallow your spit and step back, focusing on the seething figure behind Neteyam.

“Lo’ak.” You catch your breath.

He storms over, breathing heavily – not from arousal, but from jealously. He grabs you by the jaw, and kisses you hungrily, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Your teeth click together from his sharp, eager movements. His desire for you is evident from the soft grunts that vibrate through his nose onto yours. You feel the familiar heat build deep in your chest, as he tames you with his rough kisses. You push him away and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

You take a second to gather yourself, already feeling your body respond to their touches. “Alright, then.” You pant, staring at the four glowing eyes before you.

You sense a sinking feeling in your stomach, realizing what you just got yourself into. It’s too late to have regrets, though – you might as well embrace this and make the best out of this situation. Besides, it’s undeniable what these two are doing to your body. It’s evident in your already wet loincloth. You back up quickly, bumping into the table behind you. Hopping on the table, you spread your legs slowly, looking at the two boys drop their gazes to your soaked loincloth.

“What was all this talk about ‘the best head of my life’?”

Your breath is heavy as you stare at Neteyam, who is visibly restraining himself from lashing out at his brother and taking you for himself. You could see a switch flip in him, like he got riled up from seeing Lo’ak smother you in that way – like he wants to have the final touch. Seeing him in this way excites you, making you want to see how far you can push him.

“Come take these off, Nete.” You moan softly, shifting your hips to provide him with better access to your undergarments.

“My pleasure.” He growls, fixing his gaze on you as he leans over you. He grabs your hips, yanking them over the edge of the table, and rips your loincloth off you. “Sorry, love.” He huffs softly, unaware of his own strength.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath, becoming even more aroused from his possessive body language.

You watch him kneel before you, maintaining his fixed gaze, as he waits for your next command. Giving him permission with a slight nod, you watch his face make its way between your legs. He breaks eye contact, dropping his gaze onto your glistening slit. Your heart pounds violently as you watch his eyes widen, and lips part at the sight of your dripping slit. He rubs a single finger up and down against your cunt, lubricating it with your slick. He plays with your wetness a little, pulling his finger away to reveal a thick string of slick, connecting his finger to your pussy. Neteyam swirls the string around his tongue to finally taste you in his mouth. His eyes close, allowing him to savour the sweetness of your cunt before he swallows it.

It sends him into a frenzy, where he grips your soft thighs and eats you out ravenously. You fling your head back from the sudden warmth engulfing your clit, releasing loud, lengthy mewls into the air. You’re panting loudly – almost breathless from the intensity of his sucking. You lift your head back up, looking directly into Lo’ak’s famished eyes as his brother eats you out. Watching him watch you get off to Neteyam’s lewd touches makes it even more exciting. You can see the bulge in his loincloth, fighting to find a way out of its constraints.

A finger enters you suddenly, causing you to take a sharp breath. Neteyam hooks his finger towards him, and fucks your cunt erratically, trying to establish a good rhythm with his tongue and finger in unison. Your moans become more desperate – more needy, as you’re already nearing your climax. You want to cum in Neteyam’s mouth so badly, but you also want to give Lo’ak a chance. He’s watching you so intently, blowing hot air out of his nostrils from his mixed feelings of arousal and anger. You could tell how badly he wants to devour you, too. Neteyam notices that you’re staring at his brother and plunges another digit inside of you.

“Holy f-fuck. Neteyam!” you cry out, jolting your hips from the overstimulation. You find your pelvis rolls into his fingers as he’s flicking his tongue against your swollen clit. The feeling makes your entire body shudder, as the heat gathering in your chest shoots down into your cunt.

“Ne-neteyam...” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut. “I - I’m gonna cum! Stop!” You shriek, pushing his head away.

He pulls up, catching his breath and licking his fingers clean. “You should’ve let me finish” he says breathlessly, as your slick drips down his chin onto his chest.

Lo’ak takes this as his signal to come over. He pushes Neteyam out the way and takes his place, dropping to his knees before you. “My turn, yes?” he begs you with his eyes, already holding on tightly to your trembling thighs. You take note of his restraint, as he waits patiently for his command.

“Eat.” You push your pelvis towards his mouth.

He wastes no time and devours your sopping cunt, lapping up your juices greedily. He’s groaning into your pussy, spreading your lips with his warm tongue. Neteyam looks dumbfounded watching his brother’s animalistic behaviour. Neteyam shoots you a glance, seeing you bite back a moan.

“Ngh... Fuck. Lo’ak!” you rasp, unable to hold back your lusty noises anymore.

Lo’ak fucks you with his tongue while his nose rubs against your sore clit. This sends you over the edge, you feel your legs shake every time his tongue brushes past your sweet spot. You feel so vulnerable – so tender. He grabs your hand and places it on his head, squeezing it, telling you to hold on to him. You weave your fingers through his loose braids and grip tightly, humping into his face as you make eye contact with Neteyam.

You feel feverish yourself – rutting your hips into Lo’ak’s mouth in an erratic manner, whilst seducing his brother with your eyes. You were practically undressing Neteyam, imagining what the huge imprint in his loincloth looks like. You look down and see Lo’ak peering up at you, moving his tongue back up to your clit, massaging it with the flat of his tongue. A fire pools low in your abdomen, and it feels like you’ll burst any second.

Lengthy whimpers escape your gaping mouth, both Neteyam and Lo’ak could tell that you were close to cumming, hard. “Ugh... Oh. Oh – oh shit. Lo’ak!” you try to push away his head, but he just shoves his face into your cunt even harder. The overstimulation is maddening, to the point where stars start to cloud your vision. “Fuck! Fuck! Stop!” you close your legs around his head, yet he persists – sucking on your clit like his life depends on it.

Suddenly the burning sensation in your clit stops. Neteyam pulls Lo’ak off you, both falling on their bottom as they pant heavily from the whole ordeal. You desperately try to calm down, catching your breath and steadying your heartbeat.

“Play fair, brother.” Neteyam growls, squeezing Lo’ak’s neck. Lo’ak shrugs him off, hissing at him.

“Boys... don’t” you groan shakily. Sitting yourself up even more, you look down at your two boy toys kneeling on the floor.

“Neteyam. Show me what you have in there.” You demand, burning a hole into his crotch with your eyes.

Your gaze follows him as he stands slowly, hooking his thumbs under the band of his loincloth. He slides it down, releasing his rock-hard, throbbing cock. It smacks loudly against his stomach, leaving a sticky spot behind. The tip of his cock touches the bottom of his rib cage – he’s massive. How in the fuck will you take all of that? Not only is his cock the length of your forearm, but it’s almost the thickness of it, too. Beads of cum are already oozing out the slit of his mushroom-like, pulsing head.

“Oh, fuck.” You mutter, unable to look away.

Neteyam can’t help but grin, proud of his size. Still maintaining eye contact with him, you blabber out for his brother to do the same.

“Lo’ak... your turn now.” You turn your head in Lo’ak’s direction, yet you still can’t look away from this monstrous, hung, and veiny cock – boosting Neteyam’s ego even more.

You feel something velvety, yet rigid, brushing against your thigh. Tearing away from your locked gaze on Neteyam’s cock, you look down to see Lo’ak’s jumping cock, lying on your thigh. You nibble on your bottom lip as your eyes trace the rest of his torso, making their way up to meet his inebriated stare.

“I thought we were playing fair, y/n.” He spits.

Your eyebrow raises before dropping your lidded eyes back down to this heavy thing resting on your thigh. Why is it so fucking heavy? At first you thought he was trying to get your attention by resting his hand on your thigh, but this?

“Shit.” It comes out more as a soft whimper, rather than a whisper.

Length wise – he’s at most an inch or two shorter than his older brother, but – Lo’ak’s cock is thick. You thought Neteyam’s was thick, but this? This is actually the thickness of your forearm. Not only that, but it curves upwards ever so slightly. The tip of his cock is even girthier than his shaft – it’s pink, swollen and throbbing for attention. How could you ever take this inside of you?

“Good Eywa.” you breathe, now feeling Neteyam’s weighty cock rest against your other thigh.

How can I choose just one of these?

You look up to see Neteyam’s dazed eyes locked onto your leaking slit. In your peripheral vision you catch a glimpse of his cock, jumping, eagerly asking for permission to enter you.

“Make your choice.” The two brothers chant, both inching their cocks closer to your cunt.

“Let’s do it, y/n.” Lo’ak adds, taking your nipple into his mouth.

“I – I think I need to try you both first.” You moan softly, flickering your eyes between the two of them.

They both look at you and grin, dropping their gaze down to the slick pooling on the table.

“Let’s get it done, my love.” Neteyam says in a husky voice, sliding his hand over your cunt.

——

#lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #lo'ak x you #lo'ak sully smut #lo'ak smut #loak smut #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam smut #avatar x you #avatar smut #avatar #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fic

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take-taker-taken · 9 months

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Hey there! How's everything going? I was just wondering if you could write a 1990 undertaker x fem!reader where he does his best to comfort her after walking in on her crying (that'd be a fun yet cute thing to read, plus, I've been going through some rough shit lately so taker was literally the first thing that came to my mind to help me cope)

Hi there, lovely anon and thank you for the ask! This idea was just so sweet - never written Baby!Taker before and I hope this makes you feel better, and that your situation improves in general.

Comfort

You dash down the wide hallway, tears blurring your vision; you’re so sick of your stupid boss! You’ve only been here a week and so you’re still learning your way around the arena and he thought it was funny to mock you in front of everyone about getting lost twice in one day. Honestly, all the hallways and doors look the same - just grey and blue everywhere! You turn a corner and go through the first door that you come to, relieved to find that it’s dark and quiet. You don’t bother switching the light on - it’s illuminated enough from an emergency exit sign over on the far side - just drop into a plastic chair and bury your face in your hands. You take a few deep, shuddering breaths as you try to bring your emotions under control but it’s useless and the sobs come in great waves, though you do your best to stifle them.

You’re not sure how long you sit there but the sound of the door opening brings you back to the present and you look around, gasping in shock at the sight that greets you. An impossibly tall figure fills the doorway, standing there in a hat and long black coat and your brain catches up and matches the figure to a poster you saw earlier when you were front of house. It’s one of the performers for the show tonight; a creepy-looking guy called The Undertaker. You notice that what looks like mist swirls around his feet and you swallow thickly before sniffing.

“The… The locker rooms are further along.” You say and then frown. “I think. I mean - maybe… oh, I don’t know.” Another wave of unhappiness descends, your bottom lip wobbles and the tears come again as you hide your face in embarrassment.

Rather than leaving the giant steps into the room, closes the door behind him and just stands there, watching. You look up, wiping your sleeve across your eyes.

“You’re sad.” The man’s voice is a monotone growl and you shift slightly in your seat as he moves closer. For an entertainer he’s not very gregarious - maybe he’s just trying to get into character for later.

“I-I’m OK. Just having a bad day.” You eye him nervously, watching the tails of his coat float in a non-existent breeze. You sniff again and then go very still as a huge gloved hand lands on your shoulder, lifts up and then comes down again. He’s … he’s patting your shoulder, but it’s entirely mechanical and a bit too heavy - as though he knows what to do, but not why he should do it. You roll your shoulder as you become aware that even through the gloves, his hand feels chilly and then you stand up before he leaves you bruised. Curious, you try to peer up under the brim of his hat in order to see his face more clearly. Two sharp eyes stare down at you and he grimaces slightly, seemingly uncomfortable with being looked at so keenly.

“It’s alright.” He says in that same flat tone and this time when his hand comes up you flinch slightly because it’s near your face and… oh. In the same automatic way as before, he starts to pat you on the head, the force squishing you down a bit each time. You allow it for a few moments and then reach up and catch his gloved hand in both of yours in an effort to save yourself from a concussion.

You hold on to his hand as you look up at him and you can’t help but smile at the endearing combination of cluelessness and well-meaning. He doesn’t smile back, but just tilts his head slightly as he stares down and you can see now that his eyes are green. He lifts the hand that you’re still holding on to and gestures to your face with it.

“You’re better.”

You let his hand go and nod, the smile still on your face. “I think I am, yes. Thank you.”

In a moment of inspiration you step closer and put your arms around his waist and give him a hug, pressing your face to his chest and leaving a stray tear on his wide necktie. You giggle slightly when as expected, his arms close around you in that mechanical fashion though he doesn’t squeeze. You stand like that for a good minute and you realise that if you don’t move, he’ll probably just remain. The thought is tempting but you still have work to do this evening and so you disengage from him.

“Thank you,” You say again. “That was really kind of you.”

“Welcome.” He replies, again demonstrating that he knows what societal niceties demand. He gives you a slow tip of his broad-rimmed hat and then in a swirl of coat tails and mist, he’s gone.

TTT

#the undertaker #undertaker #this character lives in my head rent free #wwe #wwf #the undertaker x reader #undertaker x reader #fanfiction #undertaker fanfic #the undertaker fanfic #TTT Tumblr Asks

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prpfs · 2 months

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hello! i’m a twenty-nine year old writer. i’ve been writing for 10+ years and currently looking for someone to write with for a femdom-centric plot. ideally, this would feature dark/mature subject matter along with smut, however it will also feature a lot of plot/story.

overall, looking for someone who loves to plot/headcanon/friendly banter/and ideally, do this long-term. i would describe my writing style as casually lit to novella and enjoy writing something that might be 2-4 paragraphs long or longer. i’m here for all your nitty gritty details and also love good prose. also happy to match but not really into anything too short. i can share writing samples and hope you can too. i can post anything from 1-3 times a week.

i would like an m x f pairing, with myself playing the dominant female character. i have an oc who is malleable but i also enjoy making oc’s on the spot.

here are some plots i was thinking about (hope you find these fun and feel free to change/elaborate. they’re just fun tropes to use as a jump-off point):

1. mob daughter x bodyguard - he’s looking to move up in the family and is assigned to watch over her. however, it’s more than he’s bargained for. or perhaps, it’s unlocked things he wasn’t sure he ever liked.

2. victorian governess or ward or maid x master of the house - something vibey in the foggy english moors, where someone can get spanked with a riding crop in a hedge maze. here for stilted conversations, trying to be polite/keep up decorum, but overall messy sex in a huge manor akin to saltburn

3. popular gregarious type guy x cold icy girl - all over my tiktok is the golden retriever boyfriend who’s happy, excitable, and fun. what if behind closed doors, despite being “the man,” he’s really just her bitch

4. coworkers - he could be the boss at the day job, but by night…

5. local cop x stripper / prostitute / teacher etc. - he could be a bad cop, he could be a good cop, either way, he’s being cuffed to the bed

6. virgin male x dominatrix - ideally, the male character has fantasized about this for a long time and has hired someone to do the job

7. teen idol (female) x serious hollywood actor - he’s an action star, no one should know he’s nothing like the characters he plays on tv

8. vampire hunter x vampire / werewolf hunter etc.

honestly, very open minded. things i would be open to incorporate: cock rings, pegging, fucking machines, toys, romance, shame, societal expectations, subversions to gender norms / roles, messy feelings and emotions, hurt/comfort, secret relationships, cheating infidelity, age gaps, dead dove content, a/b/o tropes, and feel free to suggest.

please leave a like and i’ll reach out with my discord info. 🕊️

Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!

#oc roleplay #oc rp #oc x oc #m/f #dead dove

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waheelawhisperer · 10 months

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[original anon] All jokes aside, I genuinely can't get a read on how Lappland would act around children and I'm interested to hear your thoughts.

Honestly, I think Lappland would be fine, if a bit of a weirdo, around children. Her files note that she tends to be gregarious and actively seeks out people to socialize with, though she's often a bit off-putting and even frightening. Her files also mention that she can be very polite and personable and that she makes an active effort to get along with other Rhodes Island operators as long as they don't get in her way, and I can't recall any instance in any of her story appearances where she harms an innocent, much less a child. Pick Lappland as a babysitter and your children probably come back a little creeped out, asking questions and revealing knowledge and demonstrating skills that you really wish they weren't, but physically they're unlikely to come to any harm, and if they do, it's unlikely to be Lappland's fault.

I'd trust Lappland with my kids.

#she's their mother so I kind of have to #arknights #lappland #wife

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celestemagnoliathewriter · 11 months

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Saw you have your Myers-Briggs type in your bio, and was wondering your take on some HP characters' types. Which hp characters do you think might be also be INTJs?

Okay anon! It took me a good day to think this over. I made a whole list just now, but let's talk about INTJs specifically.

I think there are two good candidates for the INTJ personality type, and they are Severus Snape and Lord Voldemort.

The problem with INTJs is that they're among the rarest types. They're the type of people to stay in their own minds, aren't as warm or gregarious, can be callous towards others' emotions, and stubborn when they think (know) they're right. They like to point out inconsistencies and have a difficult time with hypocrisy or dishonesty. They can be arrogant, elitist, and unfeeling.

INTJs, bluntly put, are assholes. I realize that I'm calling myself that, which is very harsh self-criticism, and while no one is a perfect type according to the MBTI (there is no such thing as a perfect personality assessment), I do have a lot of these traits. Left unchecked or without work on emotional intelligence, I know I can be insensitive to others' feelings. It's something I continuously work on.

But to look at the HP characters like this? The only other contenders might be Minerva McGonagall, but I think she looks for details where INTJs rely on intuition.

I like the headcanon of Andromeda Tonks as an INTJ, for somewhat selfish purposes, and maybe even Narcissa Malfoy as the same. Regulus Black could be a contender as well. But these are all HCs - if we look at the text, I think Voldemort and Snape are the only INTJs, and I'm ok with it.

#intj #mbti #myers briggs #severus snape #lord voldemort #tom riddle

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ticklish-touch · 5 months

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Caramelldansen Kama anon here... I tried searching your blog through Tumblr's search and through Google, and cannot find these Willie and Nillie. Am I blind, or have they been sitting in the drafts with Laurence? 😅

Ok now them I never did make a bio for, I think I only briefly mentioned them & made them cameo in my Circus chapter.

BUT in a nutshell:

Willie and Nillie are clown entities from the Surreal realm. They both manifested around the same time, when amusement parks first started becoming popular. They bring dreams of super trippy carnivals with floating rides, no sense of direction or gravity, and bright, colorful neon lights everywhere.

Willie (stage name Topsy) is very hyperactive, loud, and aggressively enthusiastic, and never stops moving. They bring motion-based dreams with thrill rides, with the added bonus of motion sickness not affecting someone in their sleep. They can spin their head & neck ruffles right off of their body like a top. They don't intend to scare people, they can just be a little... intense.

Nillie (stage name Turvy) is very gregarious, talkative and affectionate. They don't have full physicality, they phase in and out of view like a Cheshire cat. They can create dazzling light displays, which don't have ill effects on someone with epilepsy. Usually Willie manifests the rides, while Nillie decks them out in their aesthetic.

They're like siblings, they're practically attached at the hip. They're both agender, but go by any pronouns. They're both mischief-makers and can be a bit much to deal with, but ultimately they just want people to have a fun time!

This scare actor is a dead-ringer for Willie's voice and inflections (including the tone changes):

Nillie has an androgynous voice with a very strong Jersey accent. Quite a bit like Danny's impression of his teacher 😛

youtube

Willie, Nillie, Balthy and Roscoe are all BFFs and often get together to create their own Dream Circus!

#clown #clown oc #OC #original character #artoftt

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teaandfiction-28 · 1 year

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Smut #6 please?

Ok Anon...you asked for smut and I’m giving you utter filth!

Hope you enjoy! 💛

—————————

Prompt: "What, here?"

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Language, Smut [18+ Only], Mirror Sex, Semi-Public Sex.

Timeline: Set between C9 and C10 of ‘Brand New Day’.

Two hours.

For two whole hours, Kate’s mother had chirruped non-stop in her ear about wedding dresses and venues and flowers and colour schemes and Kate was a half-second away from frog-marching Hank down to the nearest courthouse just so she wouldn’t have to listen to one more comment about ‘how beautiful white roses are for table centrepieces.”

When her mother hurried off to discuss the pros and cons of a fall wedding with Kate’s aunt and a few harridans from her social club, Kate immediately went of search of her husband-to-be, eventually spotting him sitting alone in a quiet part of the garden, slowly rocking backwards and forwards on a swinging garden bench.

“Just shoot me now...put me out of my damn misery.” Kate grumbled, dropping down onto the bench next to him with an exhausted sigh.

“Not funny.” Hank chastised in response, peering down at her disapprovingly while simultaneously sliding an arm around her shoulders to pull her close to his chest, tugging her denim-clad legs into his lap and resting a warm palm on her shin.

Darkness had long fallen over the beautiful backyard of Kate’s childhood home but friends and family were still milling around the deck under the glow of fireworks and fairy lights, the sound of Sinatra crooning softly from the bluetooth speakers filling the warm open air around them. Alexis was in a milk-induced coma in Kate’s old bedroom and, for a few blissful moments, it was just the two of them.

“Too soon?” She tilted her head back against the soft cushions of the bench, gazing up at him with a wry smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Now do you understand why I waited as long as I did to tell her?”

Hank had proposed to her four months ago and Kate had purposely held off on telling her mom because she knew she would behave like this. If she had her way, her mother would turn their beautiful, rustic wedding into a fucking circus. At least this way, she didn’t have much time to wreak her usual amount of havoc! And Kate had meant every word when she had told him that she didn't care where or how they got married; either way she got to call him her husband and that was all that mattered to her.

As much as she loved her family, spending an extended amount of time with them was often as comfortable as pulling teeth sans analgesia and yet he had taken everything in his stride, charming everyone from her cousin’s gregarious toddler to her offensive grandmother with a handsome smile and warm, twinkling eyes. Just when she thought she couldn’t love him anymore, he continued to surprise her with his seemingly never-ending capacity for patience; both with her and her crazy relatives.

She was pulled from her thoughts by his palm sliding up and over her shins, fingertips tracing the seam of her jeans along the inside of her knee until his hand was wedged between her thighs, a sexy smirk sliding onto his face.

“Perhaps I can take your mind off our upcoming nuptials, hmm?” He hummed, leaning in to push a featherlight kiss to the soft patch of skin behind her ear, his lips tugging into a smile when she visibly trembled.

“I shouldn’t have to have my mind taken off our upcom-wait, where’re we going?”

Hank had eased her legs back to the floor and pushed to his feet, pulling a confused Kate along behind him as he headed towards the house. As they passed her mother and her harem of friends, Hank graced them all with a handsome smile, winking at the middle-aged woman closest to him who’s cheeks instantly flamed an unsightly shade of salmon.

“You realise you’re basically like catnip for those women, right?” Kate snorted when they were finally in the house and out of earshot, still following Hank blindly from room to room until he ducked into the small downstairs bathroom on the other side of the expansive property, pulling her in behind him and closing the door with a sharp snap.

The second the door was shut he was on her, his hands sliding over the gentle curve of her waist as he crowded her against the marble vanity, his lips seizing hers in a bruising kiss.

“What’re you doing?” She breathed in between trading passionate kisses, her eyes fluttering closed as Hank’s palms burrowed beneath the hem of her shirt, hands gliding over the warm skin of her back as he pulled her flush against his chest.

“Taking your mind off it.”

He was taking her mind off it alright. He had wedged a thigh between her parted legs and her hips instinctively began to rock against the firm muscle in search of glorious friction.

“What, here?” She whispered, her breath hitching as she tipped her head backwards to give him the space he needed to litter her throat with a myriad of soft kisses and sharp nips.

“Mmm-hmm...right here.”

All rational thought and common sense disappeared at the sound of his deep, gritty voice rasping in her ear, her core throbbing in arousal with each touch of his lips against her feverish skin.

“Hank, we can’t...what if someone hears us?” She tried but, as much as her mouth said ‘this probably isn’t a smart decision’, her body seemed to be more than happy to throw all caution to the wind if it meant easing the flaming inferno burning low in her belly.

“Then you better stay quiet.” He hummed mischievously against her throat as his hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping the well-fitting denim and tugging them down over the swell of her ass. Sealing his lips over hers, Hank slipped his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth, the two muscles languidly rolling against one another, a deep, pulsing current of electric arousal surging between them.

It didn’t matter if it was a soft and chaste or frantic and tongue-filled, Kate loved kissing Hank Voight. The way he would suck her lower lip into his mouth, humming softly as he laved at the plump flesh with his tongue. The way he would draw in a sharp breath through his nose only to release a tight groan of pleasure when she sucked a bruise into the sensitive skin of his throat. She loved the way he touched her, the way he reverently tasted her while mapping out every ridge and valley her mouth had to offer. But the thing she loved the most was that she was going to spend the rest of her life kissing him as frequently and as deeply as possible.

Breaking away from her lips to trace his hot mouth along the line of her jaw, he paused briefly to quietly growl his next command directly into her ear.

“Turn around.”

With her jeans bunched around her knees, Kate allowed herself to be turned towards the vanity, her eyes locking with his in the mirror as he pushed his torso flush against her back, palms resting on her waist as he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to the nape of her neck.

The jangle of his belt buckle echoed around the small space, her eyes fluttering closed at the telltale metallic clink signalling that he was in the process of releasing himself from his jeans.

“Eyes open honey.” He murmured, one hand returning to her hip once he had shoved his jeans and boxers down far enough to free his stiff length. “You’re gonna watch me while I fuck you.”

She could only whimper in response to his heated words, all thoughts of the wedding long forgotten as he urged her down towards the white porcelain with a firm palm between her shoulder blades, dipping the fingers of his free hand between her thighs to pull her lace panties to the side.

"So wet for me.” He cooed, stepping up close behind her to guide his flushed tip between her sopping folds.

And with one smooth, deep, thrust, he was inside her; pelvis pressed tight to the firm globes of her ass as he took a brief second to enjoy the way her body clutched him in a perfect, velvet grip. Releasing a slow breath, he slipped both palms beneath the hem of her shirt to settle on her hips, easing back until only the wide crest remained nestled inside of her before pushing firmly back in until he was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck yes!”

Kate’s terse groan filled the little bathroom, her forearms braced on the cool surface as she pushed back against him, groaning at the delicious stretch, desperate to have every hot, hard inch of him deep inside her.

“Shhh, you want your mother to hear how you moan for me?”

Hank braced his palms on the smooth marble surface, caging her body against the vanity as he bottomed out, grinding against her with a purposeful, slow roll of his hips.

“Christ, can you not talk about my mother while you’re doin’...that.” She breathed, her spine dipping into a perfect arch when the tip of his cock brushed against the sweet spot inside her that had her seeing stars.

“What? This?”

He repeated the movement again, his lips quirking into a smug, satisfied smirk when Kate’s head fell forwards, her chin dropping to her chest as she frantically tried to stifle her whine of pleasure.

Sliding his hands under her shirt, he skated his palms over her taut stomach to squeeze her lace-clad breasts, tugging the cups down to tweak her already-stiff nipples into tight peaks as he pulled her flush against his chest, her head lolling backwards onto his shoulder.

“Uhhh yes...yes...right there.”

Their jagged breathing and the sound of colliding flesh echoed around them like an erotic symphony, Hank’s warm breath ghosting over the damp skin of her neck, his hips pumping rhythmically against her.

“C’mon Kate, open your eyes...watch us.”

Her eyes fluttered open, immediately finding his in the reflection, taking in their sweaty, flushed complexions and undulating bodies. She tracked the movement of his right hand as it skated down the soft skin of her belly, slipping beneath the lace of her underwear to settle at the apex of her thighs, fingertips instantly seeking her slick, swollen bud.

“Mmm…you wanna come baby?”

Her thighs trembled, fingers clawing at his bare forearms as she nodded frantically, tongue darting out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. Through the thick haze of lust, Kate idly wondered how it was possible for such a sweet, endearing nickname to sound so utterly filthy from his lips.

“Please…”

Kate balanced on the edge of bliss for a few long moments, her entire world narrowing down to where his flesh touched hers; his teeth nipping at her shoulder, the pads of his fingers gliding over her aching clit, his thick cock surging so deep she knew she'd still be feeling him tomorrow.

“Come for me, need to feel you.”

At his whispered command, Kate dutifully complied, her inner walls clamping down with such a force that he was almost completely expelled from her body. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, the sheer power of her climax triggering Hank’s as he thrust against her one final time, filling her with thick ribbons of white hot release. For a few long beats they simply stood joined together, both of them breathing heavy, Hank’s heart thrumming frantically against Kate’s back as he continued to throb and twitch inside of her.

“You alright?” He breathed after a moment, sliding his hand out of her underwear to rest against her hip, his mouth grazing gently along her shoulder.

Kate hummed in response, shifting slightly in his arms until he slipped from her body, giving her just enough space to turn and peer up at him with flushed cheeks and an almost shy expression on her face.

“Full marks for distraction techniques, Sarg.” She chuckled, leaning in to brush her lips against his in a soft, gentle kiss.

“Glad I could be of service.” He responded wryly, plucking a tissue from the ornate box on the counter to clean up before tucking himself back into his boxers and refastening his jeans.

“Just gimme a minute to cl-”

“Oh no.” He interrupted with a deep chuckle, reaching out to carefully adjust the black lace back onto her hips. “You’re gonna spend the rest of the night with me inside you...one way or another.”

“God, you’re so fucking filthy.” She groaned, immediately fusing her mouth to his in a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss, the fading embers of lust surging back to life at the thought of holding a conversation with her mother’s prissy, straight-laced friends with his release saturating her panties.

“You love it.” He growled in response, gripping the hem of her jeans and tugging the denim back up over her thighs, nimble fingers re-buttoning her jeans before dropping a chaste peck to the tip of her nose. “C’mon, let’s get outta here before they send a search party.”

With a parting wink, Hank slipped out into the hallway, leaving Kate to count to a slow twenty in her head before she followed suit but, the second she swung the door open, she walked head-long into her brother, her forehead bouncing off of his chest with a quiet ‘oomph’ of surprise.

“Matt…hi.”

Kate was a fantastic undercover detective having spent months on end infiltrating some of the world’s most prevalent gangs and organised crime syndicates but, if there was one person on this earth she couldn’t lie to, it was her big brother. And she could tell with one glance at his amused, albeit slightly surprised expression, that he knew exactly what she had been up to in that bathroom.

“Baby sister.” He greeted wryly, folding his arms across his chest as he casually leaned against a nearby doorframe, his crystal blue eyes appraising her carefully. The painful silence stretched on and Kate vaguely wondered if Hank had managed to escape undetected but she was pulled from her thoughts when Matthew eventually spoke.

“We, uh, gonna talk about-”

“Nope.” Kate interjected with a shake of her head.

“So you weren’t just-”

He jerked his thumb in the general direction of the bathroom, lifting a disbelieving eyebrow but, despite the steady blush that continued to creep over her flaming cheeks, Kate lifted her chin to meet his gaze steadily.

“Nope.”

“Alright, glad we cleared that up.” He snorted, flatting his back to the doorframe, allowing Kate to pass and she was so close to successfully avoiding what would probably have been one of the most embarrassing conversations of her life when he called her name, immediately halting her hasty exit.

“You, uh, might wanna go back in there and do somethin’ about your hair...you look like you just got railed in the bathroom by your fiancé.”

She was going to fucking kill him.

#hank voight #hank voight fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #hank voight smut #hank voight fluff #hank voight imagine #hank voight one shot #hank voight x ofc #smut #fluff #writer #prompt #fanfiction

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littlewestern · 2 years

Text

On Hank

(This one goes out to the anon in my askbox who requested Hank for the bingo meme. I'll do you one better <3)

So to preface this I think some context is required. I’ll be brief.

When I started this train misadventure with @greatwesternway, I personally had no plans to watch beyond Season 6, which was the last season that I remembered watching as a child and so the last season I had any personal attachment to. Once that had been done, however, and I still wanted more trains, I skipped directly to season 17 (to see Duck) and then proceeded to watch the rest of the CGI (backtracking to season 13) and then all the movies and specials.

This watch order left a gap, Seasons 7-12. I was not looking forward to watching Seasons 7-12. I had no special memories associated with them, and knew from prior research that the characterization and writing was… shall we say, less than stellar. I also knew that these seasons added many one-off characters that the CGI would not end up carrying over, and which I had basically zero interest in. Who cares about Flora the steam tram? Not me, certainly.

Imagine my surprise, then, when Season 12 (of Steady Eddie infamy) delivered perhaps my favorite one-off character of the entire show, and a pretty good all-around episode in general.

Let’s talk about Hank and his episode, Heave Ho, Thomas.

Despite appearing in only one episode, we know a lot about Hank’s character. We know that he’s big, strong, gregarious, friendly, quick to compliment others, and– perhaps most importantly– American!

Yes, the engine whose color scheme is red, white, and blue and who has a Texan accent (which Michael Angelis is attempting so, so bravely) is American. Shocker!

I’m pointing this out primarily because it’s interesting on its own: the show never directly states that he is from America, but it’s made very clear to the audience that that is the case.

There are many American engines on Sodor (Rosie, Caitlin, Connor, Porter, Timothy, Victor) but Hank is the only one (aside from Victor, who I would consider a special case) who is shown to be Culturally American. Most of these other engines are given British (or in the case of Caitlin and Connor, Irish for some reason) accents and their status as transplants isn’t really commented on in the canon.

I’m not bringing this up in relation to Hank because I have a problem with this from a technical perspective, but because Hank being American is– I would argue– actually the crux of the whole episode and what makes it work.

(Hank actually gets a model face as opposed to a CGI one for this shot! This episode might have been planned for before the decision to switch to CGI faces had been finalized.)

The episode proper starts with Hank arriving on Sodor. Thomas and Percy are both excited to meet this new special and strong engine, but Thomas expresses some doubt that he could be stronger than any of the engines on Sodor. Already we’re seeing some hometown pride from Thomas, indicating both that Hank is an outsider and that wherever he’s from, Thomas thinks Sodor is better. Sir Topham Hatt gives Thomas his 3 strikes jobs for the day, which he instructs Thomas to do while showing Hank around the island.

Hank arrives and immediately sets Thomas off by calling him “one of the finest little engines [he’s] ever seen”. Thomas, being as he is, takes offense at being called “little”, disregarding of course that to Hank, the big fuckoff PRR K4 Pacific, every engine on Sodor is little. And of course, Hank doesn’t mean “little” as an insult either. He means… cute! But Thomas, being as he is, gets buttmad about it.

Hank sees the load of freight cars Thomas is set to haul to the factory and offers, quite magnanimously, to take them instead, setting Thomas off even more. And perhaps Hank is underestimating Thomas here, but on the other hand, to Hank it would be like offering to carry a child’s backpack. The narration even tells us that Hank is merely trying to be helpful. He’s got that Southern Hospitality thing goin’ on!

As these seasons adhere to a specific formula it doesn’t take a genius to see where this episode is going. Thomas doesn’t exchange his current train for the next as he was instructed and instead tries to do all of them together as Hank watches, offering each time to pull the train instead and getting turned down. Part of that aforementioned Southern Hospitality, though, is taking people at their word, and so Thomas struggles on in a valiant attempt to win the Cutting Off Your Nose To Spite Your Face Award.

(Thomas, all out of Puff and Pull.)

It’s here that he gets called "Handsome Hank" in the episode by the narrator in passing. This is fun, because I love when one of the stereotypes Americans are given outside this country is that they're attractive. I suspect this comes from our only cultural export being film for 100 years, and so the impression that people who don't live here got was that Americans all look like movie stars.

Hank being called this is interesting though, in that sense, it characterizes him as American again without outright stating the fact, but it's also interesting because 'handsome' is not an adjective that gets ascribed to engines in canon. For this reason, I suspect it is a title in the vein of "Duck The Great Western Engine" or "James the Red Engine". It's a name given by humans to the engines as a form of address.

Because if it isn't... Well, how-dy Hank! Thomas (or the Narrator at least) thinks you look handsome! Add that to the list of things Thomas just can't stand about this guy! He swanks in here, disrespects Thomas, belittles him, and has the gall to look good while doing it. What a Hospitable asshole!

(Handsome Hank! I absolutely love these pieces of concept art and I'm so glad we have them.)

Hank is so Hospitable in fact, that when Thomas is completely out of steam and can’t whistle at the stations because of the heavy train, Hank announces in front of God and everybody that because Thomas is out of puff: he, Hank, will whistle for him! To Hank, this is just common courtesy. If he can’t pull the train, the very least he can do is whistle for his new friend.

Of course, this is about the worst thing you could say in front of an engine like Thomas. Thomas, who thinks everything is a competition, every offhand comment a slight against him personally, and every action he can’t do a knock against his own Usefulness. It’s not his fault, really. When you come up on a British railway with engines like Gordon and James, you expect to be belittled and patronized. But Hank isn’t being passive-aggressive here, he’s just being American!

Well of course, as it goes with these seasons, Thomas cracks a cylinder and learns a lesson about asking for help or somesuch, Hank has a party thrown for him and is promptly forgotten about for the rest of time forever, The End. It’s not a very satisfying conclusion or a particularly good episode when taken at face value, but I think it works if you look at it as a Cultural Differences sort of episode, where the sensibilities of two different railways come into contact and are, at least initially, at odds with each other.

And actually, doing some research for this episode, I found out that Heave Ho, Thomas was never shown in Japan on tv or released for home media. Maybe they thought an episode like this wouldn’t translate well for a Japanese audience? Interesting, either way!

#ttte #ttte hank #ttte thomas #thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #transmissions from the little western #discussions #writings #knowing and perceiving the truth #hank #thomas #meta #little westssays

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