#there is just something about it. is it a halo? it could be.

[amongemeraldclouds]

sweet dreams

It should have been simple: boy meets girl then falls in love. Except everything only happened in his dreams. Can Theodore Nott bridge the gap between fantasy and reality to get the girl of his dreams?

Inspired by Taylor Swift's song, Guilty as Sin?

Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warning: Fluff, some smut so 18+ only MDNI, characters are aged up. Uses a magical concept that deviates from canon.

✿ Masterlist | 2.9k words

Prologue

The door creaked as you swung it open to leave The Three Broomsticks, eager to breathe in the cool evening air. You scrunched your note as smoke invaded the fresh air you hoped for and turned towards the culprit, Theodore Nott. You didn’t know him personally, but guys as popular as him did not need introduction.

He didn’t notice you as he took another puff and the streetlamp cast him in a soft halo. It was not fair how some people could look so effortlessly gorgeous. 

“Want one?” He reached out when he finally saw you staring, offering you his pack of cigarettes.

You huffed, “No thanks, I was hoping for some fresh air.”

He simply shrugged and turned the other way, smoking in a different direction and out of your way.

You hoped the cool air could return some of your sobriety, but nothing was as effective as a good ol’ near de*th experience. You looked up when you heard someone shrieking from the distance, growing louder and louder until you saw a broomstick zig zag across the sky that was quickly hurtling towards you and Theo.

Theo was quicker than you, holding his wand out and casting a spell just fast enough to redirect the impact to an open space. By the time you held your wand out, you had enough wits about you to cushion the witch’s fall.

You ran towards her to make sure she was fine. She laid on the ground as if she was peacefully sleeping, oblivious to the accident. You crouched beside her, arm outstretched to wake her when-

“Oh bumbling broomstick!” She yelled out and sat upright. You yelped in surprise, yanking yourself back and landing on your bottom. Theo was there within seconds, offering you a hand.

You took it and it was unbelievably soft, his grip strong as he supported you back up from the ground. You registered the smell of alcohol and cigarettes with a subtle hint of expensive cologne. You wanted to take another whiff, but reminded yourself to focus.

“A - are you okay?” You turned back to strange woman, careful to keep your distance this time.

“That chap knows sod all about wizard engineering. Mixing magic and muggle work - ridiculous!” she spat in disdain, dusting off her dress.

She turned around, catching your worried look and Theo’s stoic expression, noticing you both for the first time. “Oh my, where are my manners?” She asked, straightening her back and introducing herself.

“I’m Miss Amelia Adams, thank you for rescuing me,” you shook hands and smiled at her politely, introducing yourselves in return.

Your eyebrows knit together as she fished around her bag, looking for something.

She beamed when she found it and held out a daisy for you. “To properly thank you, please accept this flower,” she then leaned in conspiratorially, “it grants a wish.”

She winked before gathering herself and her ‘bumbling broomstick’ as she called it. “Well, I’m off,” she declared, walking away as quickly as she had come before you had any chance to say goodbye.

You were stunned, holding the flower in your hand. You scoffed at the idea of wishes, the only way to get something is to go out there and take it. Hard work and strategy was far more effective than any wish. After a few moments of awkward silence, you turned to Theo. “That was…” you trailed off, trying to find the right word.

“Odd,” he completed for you, just as stunned as you were.

“Are you okay?” You asked Theo. He grunts and you reassured him you’re fine in return.

“Have this flower, you saved us first. Thanks, by the way. You should get the wish,” you said casually, only half believing the mysterious Miss Amelia.

He accepted it and placed it in his coat, stoic expression still in place. When he said nothing else, you turned on your heels to go back to your friends in the pub.

You paused when Theo called after you as if saying goodbye as an afterthought. “See you at school?” He said. It seems he recognized you too.

You turned around and gave him a friendly grin, “in your dreams,” you said in a playful tone. Despite being school mates, you and Theo revolved around different orbits. You experienced just enough failed relationships to know better than to start a friendship with Mr. Emotionally Unavailable.

He just smirked and watched you go before returning to his cigarette. Had he held the flower in his hand, he would have noticed it glow before bursting into tiny glitters, a wish about to come true.

That night, Theo first dreamt of you.

Main story, months later

The booming party music faded when Theo heard the familiar sound of your laughter. He shifted in the Slytherin common room couch as his entire focus gravitated towards you like you were the sun his planet revolved around.

It was always disorienting, he thought, to hear and see you somewhere outside his dreams. Mostly because you never looked his way here but in his dreams, you’ve given him everything he ever needed and more.

He recalled the first words you ever said to him in his dream, “you again?”

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked with his boyish grin, amused. He wasn’t used to seeing this reaction from others except for his friends.

He no longer remembered the rest of that conversation, but one minute you two were laughing at something silly and the next, he was tucked comfortably in bed. It was then he realized it was all a dream he could just laugh off and forget about. It was no longer funny by the third night he kept seeing you. 

You both discussed how absurd this all was until you realized how fun it could also be. So you tested different ways you could take your power back and control the dream you found yourselves in. He discovered you were smart and funny, it warmed something in Theo’s heart that he did not care to examine.

Soon enough, he was flying with you through the sky, swerving through clouds as the stars blurred past like strings of fairy lights. You both flew like it was the most natural thing in the world, no broomsticks needed. He felt like a kid again, fearless and free.

One time, he went to a muggle amusement park you heard so many great things about. You rode on roller coasters and ferris wheels then ate candy floss. You would have gotten a fever the next day from all the sugar and shouting if not for the fact this all happened in your dreams. He had never felt happier.

On quiet nights, you laid on cool grassy hills enjoying the evening breeze. Sometimes, you watched sunsets on the beach while listening to the ocean waves. Those were his favorite days. You told him about your big plans and ambitions. He tried to stifle his smiles, but your energy was so infectious. The world felt bigger and brighter when he was around you. 

He’d tell you about his mother. How close they were before they were permanently separated. He said he kept her alive by remembering their happy moments that he’d tell you stories about. He also talked about his strained relationship with his father and how silly his friends were, but oh how he’d d*e for them.

He found himself spilling thoughts and secrets he could never tell anyone else. He stammered every now and then, not used to opening up, but you were so patient. He felt safe with you because you’re a good listener. Besides, wasn’t he basically just talking to a figment of his imagination? He tried not to overthink it.

Theo felt the couch beside him dip as the familiar smell of smoke and cologne announced Mattheo’s presence. “Want to go for a smoke?” He asked with a smirk as he flashed a joint.

“Later, okay?” Theo replied distracted, his focus still on you.

A student rose from the couch and moved away as Lorenzo approached. Thanks to their popularity, the boys always seemed to find a convenient seat when they needed it. He joined the two with a grin, drinks in hand. Mattheo took in Enzo’s disheveled hair and loose tie. He accepted the drink and gave him a high five knowing he already had his conquest for the night. Theo accepted the drink and just held it.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Mattheo asked, taking a swig from his cup.

Enzo blushed and took a sip of his drink. “You know I never kiss and tell.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes in response, “until you’re drunk enough.” He pushed Enzo’s cup back to his mouth. “Come on, drink up.”

Theo tuned out the conversation and he saw you dancing with your friends, your hips moving to the beat of the music. His eyes darkened as he remembered how those hips rocked into his. It didn’t take long before you first kissed him under the stars when the conversation died down, simply because there was nothing else to say.

All other thoughts and sentiments could only be expressed in the way your fingers gripped his wavy hair, when he bit your bottom lip and you moaned against him. Before he knew it, you were reciting his name like a prayer even though it felt anything but sacred when he slammed his hips into your dripping cunt. He savoured the way your nails scratched his back. He didn’t know until then how someone’s grip could make him feel so wanted.

He always made sure you knew he how much he appreciated you:

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well amore.” 

“I’ll make you feel so good principessa, I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

“You’re so beautiful when you’re on your knees,” he’d say as he stuffed his hard length down your throat.

He memorized your shape and knew just where to touch you to be rewarded with your filthy moans and curses. He liked making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Loud screams, sheets gripped, chest heaving. He took delight in the way you came undone for him, your little whimpers were so cute he could not resist thrusting faster into you so he could feel you clench against his desperate cock again and again.

His favorite part was after he came inside you when you swiped your finger on your upper thigh and brought his spilled seed to your lips. You said you loved the way he tastes. He always said you could have as much as you want, he was all yours and you were his.

“Theo, mate?” Blaise called out to the unresponsive boy who gazed intently at the crowd.

He turned to Mattheo and narrowed his eyes, “how much weed did you give him?” Blaise couldn’t help but worry about his friends, it was exhausting really. Mattheo pushed Theo outside his comfort zone whereas Theo pulled Mattheo back in when he went to extremes. They always kept each other in check, but he was worried that balance could tip off at any moment. 

“Easy on the accusation, he’s a big boy. He can do what he wants,” Mattheo replies defensively. “Besides he hasn’t taken any green, he’s too high on that girl already. Been eye fucking her all night.” 

Mattheo’s harsh words finally cut through Theo’s daydreams and his jaw twitched in annoyance, “I’m not. You should talk about her more respectfully.”

Enzo chimed in, “you know I hate agreeing with Mattheo, but he’s right.” Ignoring Mattheo’s de*th glare, he continued, “there’s nothing respectful about the way you’ve been looking at that poor girl.”

Theo just rolled his eyes and groaned, not wanting to discuss this with his friends. Even if he did, he wouldn’t know where to start. Instead, he stood up and said, “I’m going out for a smoke,” and walked away before anyone could protest or go with him.

As he walked, his thoughts returned to you. One day, you laughed because of his jokes. He laughed because he was in love with you.

It was all so ridiculous, but it had been months and he could no longer deny his feelings. He always thought love was overrated. How can others go out there declaring love like it’s a wild adventure you’re about to embark on? Love that you would fight and break for? He didn’t want an adventure nor a battlefield.

Then there was you and he realized everything he knew about love had only been one version of it. Being with you restored his breath and calmed the butterflies in his stomach. It’s a love that did not challenge him to be better, but instead told him he is already good enough. That he was always enough. It’s the kind of love that felt like home. It’s what he never knew he needed.

You haunted him even when he was awake. He was always tempted to approach you to see if the things he saw in his head could be real. His only clue was the way you wore ribbons in your hair and how it matched your mood to the stories you’d tell him.

He noticed you wore red when you were angry like the time you had to do a group project by yourself. You wore blue when you felt sad and green when you felt generally peaceful. His favorite was pink because it meant you were happy. He noticed how the closer you got, you wore the pink ribbon more often. But today, you wore a black ribbon. He had never seen it before and it worried him. Then again it was only a theory, maybe it didn’t mean anything.

So he always talked himself out of approaching you. Theodore Nott was used to broken things whereas everything with you and about you was perfect. He knew at the very least to leave it well enough alone.

His thoughts carried him to the Astronomy Tower where he lit his cigarette and stared at the evening sky.

“You always seem to be polluting the fresh air I go out for.” Something in his heart froze and then burned brightly. It was you. He heard the smile in your voice before he turned around to look at you. Salazar, you were so beautiful.

“You always seem to find me when you need fresh air. Are you sure you’re not just looking for me?” He teased, but nevertheless moved to extinguish his cigarette. 

You chuckled at Mr. Arrogant who always knew his way around girls. “I was joking, keep your cigarette though your lungs probably hate you.”

He scoffed, he already hated himself. But mostly, he hated how desperately he wanted to reach out and kiss you without being a total creep. “I’ll survive,” he replied, taking a final drag before snuffing it out. “What brings you here?”

“Aside from the not-so-fresh air?” You grinned before turning serious. “This is a nice place to think.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Salazar, he’s relentless. “I’m in an impossible situation and I’m starting to lose hope,” you admit. So that’s what the black is for, Theo realized.

He scrunched his nose as he thought twice about what he was about to say. It was so silly trying to hold back when he’d give you the moon and the stars if you asked for it. “Whatever it is, you shouldn’t lose hope.”

You laughed at him and let out an exaggerated gasp, “coming from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable?”

He laughed in return, “ah, my reputation precedes me.”

“Exactly, so don’t go around saying things like that. People might think you have a heart behind that big brain of yours.”

“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” He leaned in conspiratorially.

“No, everyone would stare at you then.”

“You know it’s rude to stare.”

“Oh yeah? What should I do instead?” You challenged.

“Kiss me,” he said with a smirk, a half joke and a half plea.

You laughed and took a step back, placing distance between you. So this was how he got girls, you mused.

Salazar, he was losing you. If he was going to try, he had to be sincere. No charms, no masks. “Amore, I…” he began but grew self conscious at the nickname. “I mean, I wanted to…” he started then stopped. “I wonder if…” he tried again.

“I know,” you said, fire burning behind your eyes at recognition. This was the boy of your dreams. Awkward when he tries to be sincere and it was so adorable. It always made you feel special because you knew he had walls for the rest of the world. But with you, he was at home.

You closed the distance to meet his lips and the kiss said everything he needed to know. All those evenings together talking beneath starlit skies, exploring flesh and soul, falling in love. They were real.

His hands found the curve of your hips so naturally as he pulled you closer against him, just like he’s done countless times. He savoured the way your fingers made their way through his hair. Everything felt electric, at once new and familiar. It was better than anything you had dreamed of.

When you both broke for air, you found yourself blinking in disbelief. “How do we both have the same dreams?”

Theo just shook his head as if to say he didn’t know but then he remembered your first meeting. There was a witch with a bumbling broomstick and a flower. His eyes widened. “The flower from all those months ago.”

Your eyes lit up with remembrance, “the mysterious Miss Amelia!” You brought your hand to your lips, “I didn’t think it was real. I said you’d see me in your dreams.”

“And now you’re my dream come true, amore,” he said, pulling you in for a hug.

 You giggled at how sweet Mr. Not So Emotionally Unavailable could be. “And you’re mine. See you tonight then?”

He chuckled, “and then tomorrow I’ll take you on a real date?”

You scrunched your face, “but now we can’t fly through the stars anymore.”

“Oh, I have other ideas,” he whispered in your ear.

Your heart leapt to your throat and anticipation hummed in your veins. After all, some things were sweeter than dreams.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: I've mostly written for Enzo and Mattheo until now but when I thought of this plot, I just knew only Theo could do it justice. So this is how I wound up writing my first Theo fic. Hope you liked it!

#theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut #theo nott #theodore nott #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #amongemeraldcloudswrites

[lovelytsunoda]

does he take care of you? // george russell

does he take care of you? or could i easily fill his shoes, but you say 'no'. yeah you said 'no'... and i'm not trying to stop you love, if we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck

summary: they had always been walking a fragile, tender line between friends and lovers. they were bound to cross it at some point.

pairing: george russell x bonnington!reader

warnings: an attempt is made at angst, people can't properly deal with their feelings. minor drug use, insinuations and non detailed sex (but bestie bonnington can’t deal with her feelings properly so she bails when things get serious-) one small little insinuation that someone might jump off a building. loosely inspired by the song 'sex' by the 1975

it was dark outside, nearing ten pm at the track when peter bonnington came to find george. george was in his drivers room, looking over printouts of race data, trying desperately to figure out where he could improve the following weekend.

“I hate to bother you, mate.” peter started, “do you have a moment?”

thankful for the reprieve from straight line speed and throttle graphs, george folded the printouts back into their legal folder and turned to look at the engineer. “what do you need?”

there were lines furrowed on bonnos brow. the man looked stressed, and george had a feeling that it wasn’t due to the cars subpar performance.

“I need you to talk to y/n. she hasn’t been doing well these past few months and I’m starting to get really worried. she won’t talk to me and she won’t talk to her mum. toto tried to ask her about it and she threw her drink in his face. something is wrong with my little girl and she’s shutting me out.”

george frowned (although he had to admit that the mental image of babe bonnington throwing the icy remainder of her pink starbucks refresher onto the great toto wolff made him laugh). “when did all this start?”

“when she came back from wales a few months ago, that big work trip. I think it has something to do with that wanker matthew she was dating, he hasn’t been around the house since before she left.”

“do you know where she is?”

“the roof, I think.”

at the look george gave him, bono sighed, shaking his head. “she’s not gonna jump. she just wants peace and quiet. I think the inside of her head is too loud. besides, the motor home isn’t high enough off the ground for anything serious to happen if she falls.”

“still, why would you let her be on her own right now?”

“she didn’t give me a choice.”

after a bit of floundering (and a trip back down the stairs after he realized he’d forgotten a coat), george found his way to the roof. from here, he couldn’t quite see the track, but he could see the lights and hear the sounds of the paddock, watching the last few stragglers exit their team homes and head for the front gates.

y/n sat at the edge, feet pulled up under her and a halo of smoke around her messy hair. her clothes were baggier than normal, darker than usual. when she turned to face him, the driver could see that her eyeliner was smudged, a single mascara tear running down her cheek. in her hand, she shakily clutched a lit joint, the embers at the end glowing orange in the night.

“I thought you quit that?” george asked, concern evident in his tone as he moved to sit next to her.

“fucking mattys fault.” she grumbled, taking a long drag of the fragrant plant. “he’s set my anxiety issues back about five years, figured it was time to go get my cbd prescription refilled.” she stopped, taking another drag before exhaling the smoke and offering it up to george. “it won’t get you high, but if we share it, it will make this look less sad.”

george frowned, taking the joint from her hand and taking a shaky drag, choking in the smoke as it filed his lungs. “what did he do? did he touch you?”

she laughed sadly, defeat in her eyes as she looked over the paddock. “nope. what he did hurt a whole lot more. when I got back from wales I went over to his apartment to surprise him, since my flight had gotten in a few hours early. he was in bed with another woman. and this wasn’t the first time, either. he’s been seeing her almost as long as he’s been seeing me. apparently she didn’t know I existed, and he was thinking about marrying her. I was fucking humiliated, george.”

“I’m so sorry.” he didn’t know what to say as he passed the joint back. she took a long drag, refusing to meet his eyes until he had reached over to shake her gently by the shoulder. “you did nothing wrong. you are pretty and funny and smart and most of all worthy of love. if matty couldn’t see that, then he didn’t deserve you in the first place, y/n.”

it happened so suddenly it almost knocked the driver on his backside. they were just talking, sitting comfortably in the marijuana smoke and then suddenly the engineers daughter is kissing him. soft, guava lips pressed to his, pillowy from all the tropical lip balms she can’t seem to put down. her hands are hungry, extinguishing the joint against the metal motor home roof before pawing at george’s broad frame.

they had been friends for years, yn considered him one of her closest. it must have been the part of her that needed reassurance that said ‘it’s okay, cross the line’ because soon enough, he was kissing her back, tongue exploring her mouth with reverence, hands gripping her waist through her mom jeans, then slipping into her back pockets to cop a feel.

“is there anyone left inside?” she panted, resting her forehead against george’s, hand splayed against his clothed chest.

the driver shook his head.

“good. I want you.”

and then they were in his drivers room, everything happening so fast that it felt like a fever dream. and then it happened, her jeans and panties on the floor, stripped down the lacy camisole she’d had on under her sweater, back on the massage table as she wrapped her bare legs around george’s hips, his hands gripping thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pounded into her, sweat dripping off the tips of his brown hair.

“god, fuck, george, please!” none of the words leaving her mouth were coherent. it didn’t matter. this was about avoidance, a mere distraction, if you will.

she needed to be fucked so hard she couldn’t think about all the bullshit matty was putting her through.

when all was said and done, her mind blissfully clear as she lay prone on the massage table, feeling the sweat dry on her flushed skin as she watched george tuck his cock back into his jeans, all she could find it in her to say was “god I needed that.”

and from there, it was all too easy to fall into a dangerous pattern that didn’t help anybody. one that tord a line so fragile it might as well have been made of salt, intended to keep the deeper feelings out.

the night in george’s drivers room turned into a quickie the next morning in the airport bathroom, bent over the vanity in front of a mirror, panties around her ankles and a massive hickey tucked into her turtleneck as they sat across from each other on the private jet, sharing a glance and smiling at the secret they shared,

eventuakly, back on home soil, the driver became her coping mechanism. when she wanted to go out but her friends were busy, george was the first person she called, pulling up to his house in her toyota corolla, synth-heavy music that was popular on tumblr in 2014 shaking the frame of the car. she turned it down as george opened the passenger door, giving her an odd look as the guitar solo played quieter in the background.

“how can you think when it’s that loud?”

“that’s the point. I can’t. it keeps the thoughts at bay.”

that night had ended in the back of an empty parking garage, movie theater popcorn and a takeout box left abandoned on the passenger seat, y/n on her knees with george’s rock hard length in her mouth. hearing him moan her name was its own kind of drug, and hearing him call her ‘good girl’ was enough to have her clenching around air.

or when george would come over, and they would make a new recipe together, criminal minds playing in the background. how many nights did the dinner end up burning while george had y/n's legs spread wide on the dining room table?

and while the act itself brought him nothing but pleasure, it was the aftermath that left him feeling like shit. he knew this was never going to go any further, that y/n was just looking for a rebound. something to take her mind off just how fucked her last relationship had been.

george would never be anything more than a friend, someone she could fuck when she needed it and be platonic with when she didn't.

she deserved better, someone who could take care of her in teh way that her heart ached for.

someone like george william russell, he thought.

but who was he to decide what was best for her? maybe he could show her, treat her right and change her mind somehow. but he wasn’t sure how to do it.

it was a night like any other, over a game of uno and a bottle of white wine, reruns of coronation street playing in the background, the smooth jazz of the intro and outro music only adding to the atmosphere.

and of course, as nights like these do, the cards ended up discarded on george’s living room floor, bodies mushed together in a heap in front of the soft blue glow of the tv. he picked her up bridal style, deftly lifting her weight as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to the master bedroom.

the bedroom. a place so intimate and so forbidden. their relationship had subsisted on having sex anywhere but a bed, for a bed would make it too real. there would be too many feelings involved.

and yet here he was, taking a massive leap into the unknown, uncharted waters as he laid her down against the linens, caging her body in with his as he kissed her.

a kiss so different from all the others that they shared, this one soft and tender. no teeth and no tongue, just the soft caress of a man’s chapped lips, done with reverence, as if her body was a treasure.

he trailed his soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck, no words exchanged between the two as his hands began to slide up her black t-shirt, over her belly-button piercing and then coming to rest over the padding of her bra as his lips traced her collarbone. he was in tune to her every movement, every whine and gasp.

he kissed down her stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her every breath. listening to the way that her breath caught as he popped open the button in her skinny jeans, dragging them down her legs and watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“george,” she hummed as he kissed and nibbled at her inner thigh, so close yet so far from what she needed.

“george!” it was a shout this time, paired with her small hands aggressively pushing him away. “I can’t do this. what are we doing here?”

“what?” george was wide eyed an confused “I’m treating you like a decent fucking boyfriend would! I like you yn, and you mean a lot to me. you deserve more than some cheap fuck in the backseat. you deserve to be treated like a treasure.”

she shook her head, standing up from the bed and pulling her jeans back on, refusing to meet georges eyes as she faced the firestorm of thoughts in her head, each one telling her that she had made a horrible mistake.

“we can’t. there was a line, and we crossed it.” her voice was shaky, bottom lip quivering. she was doing the right thing, or so she kept telling herself. putting that boundary back.

because they were friends. nothing more, nothing less.

george laughed. an awful, grating sound in this context. “you weren’t worried about crossing lines when you let me fuck you on my massage table. or when you had my cock down your throat.”

“please don’t take that tone with me!”

“I know matty hurt you. and I know you needed a rebound, but I want all of you, yn. I want your good days and your bad. I want to take care of you.” he was getting desperate. they both knew that there was no such thing as ‘just friends’ after this.

“I can’t be what you need, and I can take care of myself.” she tucked her hair behind her ear before storming last george and back into the living room.

george would always regret letting her leave. somehow, as he watched her grab her purse and her leather jacket and the keys to her fucking toyota, that this would be the last time he saw y/n bonnington.

and he was right.

he didn’t see her start to cry when she got into her car, driving to an empty space of road so she could pull over into the shoulder and let it all out, the radio tuned so loud that she swore it was shaking the frame of the car. and that’s when she decided it was time to reevaluate her life.

george didnt see her again for months. he heard from bonno that she quit her job, moved out to the coast. somewhere on the water. brighton or blackpool or bournemouth. a new group of friends, a new job, a fresh start.

she sold the toyota, bought herself a mini cooper countryman, a car she’d wanted since she was a little girl. she stopped wearing tight, dark clothes and starting seeking out florals, pastels even. flowier clothes that made her feel good.

and she was happy. from time to time, she still thought about that night at george’s. in a way, she was thankful. it had forced her to change, to become a better person. a healthier one. but she hated that she had hurt him. played with his feelings and then stomped on his heart. but deep down, she knew she had done the right thing. she could never have been the girlfriend that george needed. she was too broken.

george saw her again a year later, in the paddock at silverstone. he hardly recognized her: new hair, wide smile. mom jeans and a floral crop top that looked straight out of the seventies. she looked good. happy. healthy.

but there was something else he saw that hit him like a knife to the kidney.

it was the man on her arm. he was conventionally attractive, if you liked surfers. his dark hair flopped around his face the same way hugh grants did in ‘notting hill’ and his sunglasses were hooked into the collar of his striped resort shirt, left open for the top few buttons of course. she looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he held her like she was the most important thing in his life, always having an arm around her shoulders, tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

his name was colin. of course his name was fucking colin. like he was a character in fucking love actually, and not the man dating the woman george had so vulnerably bared his heart to.

he’d pulled out his phone, open to her number even though he’d sworn to himself that he’d delete it but he never did.

the text was right there in the message box, waiting to be sent.

does he take care of you?

but when he looked over at them again, his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder as she was pointing out different things on her dad computer monitor, george knew the answer.

colin took incredible care of her, and he seemed to be exactly what she needed.

and how could george fault the other man for doing exactly what he would if y/n had been his?

he deleted the message without sending it, quietly slipping out of the garage, with the intention of working out until he couldn’t feel the pain any more.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @userlando @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @diorleclerc @cartierre @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck

#george russell #george russell x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 smut #george russel x reader #george russell x you #george russell smut

[sreidisms]

Stress Release

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!GN!Reader

Summary: Spencer needs you to take care of him after a rough couple of days at his new job.

Genre: smut

Word Count: 861

Warnings: pegging, reader is GN but uses a strap-on so?? afab implied, slight cum play, slight overstimulation if you squint, many many pet names (sweet boy, love, sweetheart, darling, baby).

A/N: I needed something to get my creative juices going because I've been in the worst writing slump of my life, so enjoy this quick little blurb of the cutest, subbiest Spence <3

Spencer was splayed out on your shared bed, his previously-gelled hair tousled and spread out on the fresh sheets like a halo around his head, however juxtaposing the current situation he was in - it was far from holy as your strap-on was gliding in and out of him with lewd ease.

The excuse from your boyfriend was that he needed the stress fucked out of him - maybe not put as crudely as that, but you knew what words were floating through his head. Paperwork, cases, and meeting people had been too much for the new agent, and he just wanted you to fuck him dumb for a while, for positive psychological purposes only obviously.

“How’s that feeling, sweet boy?” you cooed, pressing his knees further back to get the right angle to hit that lovely spot deep inside his abdomen.

“Mmm … g-great,” he mumbled, licking his lips and letting his mouth fall open once again.

“That’s good, Spence. Keep your legs like this, please, love.” Your hands moved to hold his slender and naked waist, thus providing you with the perfect leverage to smoothly thrust the thick dildo into his tight hole.

Pegging had been a recent addition to your sex life and you had been surprised when Spencer brought it up one day, timidly explaining how he had stumbled upon it online and wanted to try it out; little did he know, you had been dreaming about that scenario for months. With gentle steps and a good amount of research, it soon became a favourite activity for the both of you.

Spencer didn’t know why he liked it so much. It was probably a mix of being able to let go for once in his life and let someone else do the taking care of, he reflected. And besides, it was nice to not have to think about the logistics of something for a change.

For you? Oh, you loved watching your bright and loquacious genius be reduced to whines and pants every once in a while. It wasn’t a secret that he overworked himself and so you wanted to allow him the space to lay back when needed.

Now, one of your hands had found its way to your boyfriend’s throbbing cock, setting a relentless pace, up and down to give him more relief.

“O-Oh fuck,” he whined as he grasped your arm with a tight grip. “Don’t … stop, d-don’t …” His sentence was cut off when your thumb stroked the underside of his tip, forcing out a guttural moan and a harsh thud as his head hit the mattress again.

You hushed him. “You don’t have to worry, darling. Just relax, I’m here to make you feel good.” He nodded frantically, sucking his lower lip with his teeth to stifle the noises that were begging to escape his mouth.

As much as it was embarrassing, you were sure that your neighbours on the floor beneath your apartment could hear the never-ending squeak of the bed frame grinding against the linoleum, but you couldn’t care less in that moment. Your mind was set on bringing the highest of pleasures to your boyfriend as you skilfully hit his prostate over and over, each push of your hips punctuated with a moan from Spencer.

“P-Please …”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you asked worriedly, quickly cupping his cheek with the hand that was resting on his waist. “Are you close?”

“Uh huh … please, please l-let me …” The sentence died at the back of his throat.

“Go ahead, you’ve been such a good boy, you deserve this.”

You stopped your actions for a second and swiftly pulled him closer to you from his legs, accidentally ramming the tip of your strap-on painfully hard against his sweet spot. It wasn’t your intention but cum gently dribbled down his flushed dick as he panted.

In an effort to not leave him with a ruined orgasm, you planted your fists on the bed, Spencer’s angelic face between them, and you hiked your knees up onto the edge of the bed before picking up the pace once more and driving the fake cock deep inside him.

“O-Oh …” The man was too far gone drowning in pleasure to have the energy to make noise, eyes screwed shut and fingers fisting the sheets.

“There we go,” you purred. The feeling of more cum being fucked out of him spread across both of your stomachs, creating the most delicious mess you could imagine.

You eventually took pity on him and slowed down your hips and teasingly pressed on his legs to spread them further, pulling back to see his weeping length softening against his porcelain skin.

“You did so well, Spence.” You took your pointer finger and spread the viscous liquid across his tummy, and then slowly traced it to the head of his cock. His hips bucked forward and he hissed.

“D-Don’t … sensitive.”

You giggled and leaned down to give him a soft kiss. “Sorry, baby, you’re so easy to tease.”

Spencer’s eyes opened to meet your loving expression and he smiled in return. “I love you.”

“I love you too, always.”

I hope you enjoyed this! I promise I'll get to writing all the suggestions in my inbox eventually, it means so much to me that people show interest :) thank you

#writingreidisms #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #gn reader #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? With her being in the Williams garage, she witnessed Alex and Danny incident at the Japan GP and was so worried about them that she ended up going to James at the pitwall for his comfort. He decided to hug her while calming her down and going to both of the drivers to make sure they're okay. Just something fluff and little angst. Add something if you want to. Thanks!! :)))

what is it with me only getting these fics out like 2-3 weeks after the race, anyway, it's again so short but my mental health is suffering right now, so, and im happy with it the length it is.

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist let me know :)

---

“Come on Logan, show ‘em why you deserved to be in the car last weekend.” 

Logan nodded as he pulled his helmet on and gave a thumbs up and a fist bump to Y/N. It was her first weekend at the grand prix, as she preferred to stay at home, and let James call her to give her an update. But James had been pleading with her to come ‘just once’ and after the disaster weekend they’d had in Australia, she had braved the timezone and flown out for Japan.

She sat down on the folding chairs with the rest of the pit crew, while PR managers and assistants and anyone who liked James, which was 90% of the garage, was trying to persuade her to sit on a more comfortable chair. She shook her head smiling, insisting she was fine as long as she wasn’t in the way, on the folding chair, with the pit crew. 

James shook his head fondly, gazing at his wife as she chatted to Alex’s race engineer, before he slung his headset on and walked out to the pit wall.

Unfortunately the joy in the Williams garage lasted all of about 1 corner. A cheer erupted as they all got through turn 1 okay, but it was yelled too soon.

“As they make their way through AND OFF INTO THE WALL, off into the wall goes the 2 cars, and a big crash into the tire barrier,”

“Yeah, that’s going to be an immediate safety car, a heavy impact for Ricciardo and Albon…”

“Red flag, red flag.”

Y/N could see the anger as the mechanics grew angry, yelling stuff, but it all felt muffled underwater, as the camera cut to a replay of the crash. She sat there, staring as she watched Daniel and Alex’s cars clobber the barriers again.

So much for good luck this weekend. She watched as Daniel hopped out of the car, and she saw that Alex was having a little trouble due to the tyres almost balanced perfectly on his halo.

She heard the other cars filtering into the pits and as the pit crews dash around the cars Y/N escape through the garage and up to the pit wall, where she spotted James chatting to some of the other mechanics. She quickly crossed the pit lane and hopped up to the pitwall.

“Hey darling, what are you doing here?”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. What was she doing here? She looked at her husband trying to convey all of her current thoughts through her eyes. Thankfully he seemed to get the message and embraced her in a hug.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, they’re both fine, they’re both okay. The red flag is because the barrier is destroyed and they’ll be here before the end of the red flag, okay? I’m sorry darling, that must have been terrifying to see that crash, especially when you have no information. How about you stay here, I think Alex and Daniel will come from there,” he pointed somewhere, Y/N wasn’t paying attention properly “so they’ll walk past here and you can see that they’re completely safe and sound.”

Y/N nodded at that, and snuggled in further to her husband’s embrace as he asked about tyres for Logan’s restart and discussed new strategy, keeping an eye out for the 2 drivers.

come walking down the pit lane. She careful extracted herself from James’ embrace, he nodded as he saw the 2 drivers arriving.

Y/N ran over and embraced them both in a hug, ignoring the commentators comments of ‘mom’ and ‘awwww’ and she pulled them in close and started rambling

“Oh my god, are you okay, that was a big crash, are you sure you don’t need to go to the medical centre, wait, hang on, what’s the test, uuhhhh, how many fingers am i holding up?”

“2, Y/N, relax, we’re okay.” Daniel put a hand on her shoulder

“Y/N breathe okay, I know that was a big crash and that I think was your first big crash while being here, so I’d imagine it's a little scary, but it’s okay. We’re both okay, Daniel and I in one piece.” Alex pulled her into a hug, before releasing her.

Y/N didn’t trust her voice, just nodding and furiously wiping away at the tears falling down her face.

“C’mon, I’ll get you back to James and then by the time the red flag is over, I’ll be back from media and we can watch the race together, okay?”

Y/N nodded again, smiling more than she was as Alex led her back to James.

“Keep her safe until I get back, yeah boss?”

“Oh come on Alex, you don’t trust me with my own wife?”

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

#f1 x reader #miloformula123fan #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #james vowles x reader #james vowles #james vowles fanfic #james vowles fic #james vowles x female reader #james vowles x you #james vowles x y/n

[white-00-7]

The fallen

Lucifer x reader

( after Adam died)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It was a regular day in the hazbin hotel. Charlie was doing redemption exercise with Angel Dust. Nifty was running everywhere to dust the place up, Vaggie was close to Charlie to help her , Alastor was in his chair as in the lobby could be heard a soft jazz song. Lucifer was in his apple tower. His room and workshop when all of the sudden a bright light illuminate his room and a crash sound outside the hotel making it to tremble a little.

When thwy all go outside to see what happened they see 2 angels fighting. One was an exterminator the other was strange. Her wings were a fuze of colors as the univers with stars, her black hair as the night was tied in loose braid. She was dressed in a royal blue dress that was covered in purple armor. She had a spear next to her but she was using her fists to fight that angel. She was speaking in a language that made then wonder what is she talking about. Even Lucifer haven't heard it before. After she threatened the angel she took their halo and broke it in her hands then get up and throw then away as they angel flow to the portal to heaven the one with wings of a galaxy was screaming at them something that was like swears and threats. After the portal close she sigh then took her own halo and look at it. Then in a fit of rage she broke hers to. She turn around to see demons in front of a building and took her spear and point it at them.

"Cine sunteți? De ce va uitați așa la mine?" (Who are you? Why are you guys looking at me that way) she speaks in that strange language again. Charlie come closer the the angel and ask her "Are you ok? You look hurt....your bleeding". The angel look at her smile as she understood what language to use to speak with them. "Hello. Yes I am good. But I want to ask you if you could show me the way to Charlie Morningstar? I heard that she can help me in a way to accept that I'm in hell. But first to tell you my name." She bows softly but with elegance. "My name is Y/n. I am the angel of galaxy. First to be created by the God and the last. Queen of dreams and hope and protector of balance".

Y/n pov:

'They are looking at me like I'm some kind of ghist or something. Hell. It is because of my wings?' She thought and hide her wings in her back. The girl with red circles on her cheeks and a big smile looks like an angel....is she the daughter of my little morningstar? "Hi my name is Charlie. Why don't you come in and let us help you patch up? I think you have a story to tell and maybe you will want to stay here" she said and approach y/n and she accepted Charlie hand. She made her spear disappear then walk into the hotel followed by the rest. Charlie sat her down on the couch as the rest sit around to listen.

"Ok so as I said I am y/n. The queen of dreams and hopes and protector of balance. I was the first and last angel of galaxy that God created. To protect humans by all kinds of threats from space like asteroids or black holes, to put stars on the night sky for them and to go to the dreams realm to fight with the nightmares who terorise humans. Being just me I dress differently as you all can see. I like white but my skin is already made of moon light and stardust. Dress differently speak differently and think differently. They thought that I am the problem. When I find out what they did to my little morningstar when I was gone I started to ask why and to find out, but they sended me on a mission again. I came back a week ago and when I find out finally when they did with Samael then here in hell killing innocent demons I started to question then to press them to stop. I told the whole heaven what they did and finally when you guys saw me I was fighting and destroyed the exorcism. I'm sorry it took so long to come here. Truly." She looks at all of then embarrassed then at Charlie and what she thinks it was her little star. Samael but now Lucifer.

Lucifer was startled to hear his other name then look at her puzzled. Charlie had tears in her eyes but then Angel Dust spooke "What do you mean by your little morningstar?" She smiled at then and blush softly as then sigh and open her palms. A soft light that sparks with a light so beautiful that made you feel warm and comfortable. "This is what humans called the star of morning. The first star to appear on the sky and the last to go. My little morningstar. This star is under Samael name because God wanted it to be so." She looks at Lucifer and smile as he was almost in tears. She put the star away and when the light disappeared she looks at all of then then wince and cover her right side of her stomach. Gold blood was gushing out and she started to breath heavily. "C...can someone carry me to a room? Preferably at the top of this building and to stich me up? Thanks" after those words she fainted.

Third person pov:

Y/n fainted as soon as she finished talking and Lucifer caught her body in time before falling. He looks at her puzzled and feeling strange after hearing her story. He knew of her name. Never seen her before tough. He looks at Charlie and she got up and started to walk upstairs where she thinks is the best room for her new guest. Lucifer placed y/n on the bed and snap his fingers to make some pijama pants and shirt appear. She give then to Charlie and told her to call Vaggie and change her clothes and dress her wounds as he leaves the women's alone.

(Not my art)

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer

[helix-studios117]

Halo Reloaded: Atheon

Their private living-quarters is their little oasis... Linda-058—no, Linda Downes, six months along by this point in time, nestled into the pillows with a gentle sigh, her armored plates set aside for the evening. Her legs stretched toward the warmth of the small electric heater humming in the corner.

"John?" Linda's voice, tinged with a child-like whimsy, broke the quiet. "Could you... would you tell me a story tonight? Something happy?"

John smiled, the scar on his face softening in the dim light. He settled beside her, their hands finding each other naturally. "Yeah, sure. You remember Atheon, right? The hero from the tales I told you about when we were kids?"

Linda's eyes lit up, a sparkle of amusement dancing in them. "Yeah! The one who fought with a laser sword and rode a star dragon?"

"That's the one." John chuckled, his voice a soothing rumble in the quiet room. "Okay, let me think... Ah, got it. So, this story takes place on a distant, colorful planet called Neonis. It's so bright and vivid, every sunset there paints the sky in a million shades."

Linda giggled, tucking her feet under her. "Tell me everything!"John began, gesturing with his hands as he wove the tale. "Atheon was not just any hero; he was known as the Guardian of Joy, sworn to defend the smiles of every child in the galaxy. One day, the gloomy shadows—serious creatures made of drear and drab—decided they had enough of Neonis's bright colors."

"Atheon wouldn’t stand for that, would he?" Linda interjected, her voice playful. "Never," John affirmed with a mock-serious nod.

"Atheon strapped on his jet boots and soared into the sky, his laser sword gleaming. But as he confronted the shadows, he realized that fighting them would only spread more darkness." Linda leaned forward, absorbed. "So, what did he do?"

"He did something unexpected. Atheon started to dance." John’s lips twitched into a smile. "Yes, dance. Right there, in the middle of the sky. His moves were so silly and joyous that the shadows, who had never seen anything so ludicrous, couldn’t help but laugh."

Linda clapped her hands delightfully. "He danced away the gloom?"

"Exactly," John said, nodding. "The shadows began to dance too. They twisted and twirled until they turned into bursts of color, adding to the sunset themselves."

Linda’s laughter filled the room, light and carefree. "Atheon the dancing hero, I love it!"

John looked at her, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her joy. "And they say that to this day, the sunsets on Neonis are the brightest, all thanks to a hero who dared to dance instead of fight."

Linda snuggled closer, her head resting against his shoulder. "Thank you, John. That was perfect. Atheon’s my hero."

John whisperes to her, kissing the top of her head gently. "...And you're my hero, Lyn."

#john/linda #john 117 x linda 058 #linda 058 #halo reloaded #Halo au #ultimate halo #helix studios117 #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #john 117 #master chief #master chief fanfiction #master chief fanfic

[krawlernyannyan]

IT'S ALL ABOUT ENA (ft. SUNDAY WAS THE BAD GUY ALL ALONG)

After the v2.2 trailer I'm really starting to think the events going on in Penacony are somehow deeply tied to Ena the Order. At first I thought all the Order motifs (i.e. the eye symbol of Order being all over) around Penacony were just cool worldbuilding details about how the Harmony must've adopted the Order's symbology on top of THEIR Path, but now...

Like the thing that's really tipping me off here is all the goddamn puppets. The final boss of which is religiously-themed.

This is an insane idea but what if everything that's been going on in Penacony has been the result of somebody trying to re-establish contact with Ena and/or the Path of Order? One of the major discoveries we made in v2.1 was that something's wrong with the Harmony, so what if the Harmony on Penacony is being corrupted in such a way that it aligns more with the Order? It's not even hard to see how.

The Harmony should be about cooperation, resolving differences, mutual understanding, but on Penacony that's not remotely the case. The Family's main tactic to keep the peace has been robbing people of their memories and emotions - keeping them in control not necessarily so people can heal, but to keep them in line and serve their designated functions. The Family on Penacony has already been debasing its population into obedient puppets, doing everything possible to maintain the facade they've created.

There's also the fact that Penacony used to be a prison, a setting that embodies the kind of control and forcible penance that Order represents. Xipe's attention was drawn to it because its prisoners began uniting together in the dreamscape but what happens if Penacony reverts back to a prison?

There's a lot of things that click neatly into place with one extra assumption, that the person ultimately behind this distortion is the most Order-adjacent character in the Penacony cast: Sunday.

He's the most outwardly religious person on Penacony in terms of his faith and he's straight-up covered in the Order's eye symbol, even having them on his halo, plus his major character trait is being a control freak. Circumstantially, he fits.

At this point it's been hammered in that there's a traitor in The Family - as the person in charge of the Family (only answering to the unseen Dreammaster) he's literally pulling the strings on Penacony and in the best position to manipulate its environment, so him being the literal puppetmaster behind everything would be a neat turn of phrase.

While he's outwardly devout to Xipe it could be the case that his appeals are specifically to those aspects of Xipe that THEY absorbed from Ena.

Sunday's ultimate goal is to create a truly perfect paradise in Penacony, but his idea of that could be reliant on the complete control of its population to stop all conflict, hence why he's going to such lengths to get Ena's influence.

It's been stated that a lot of the Dreamscape exists thanks to blessings from Xipe the Harmony, leading to its relative safety, but if the Harmony starts getting corrupted and weakened, then that would weaken those effects and that could be why the deeper dreamscape is starting to flood into Penacony. (This would be an unintentional side-effect of trying to bring about Order, or at least one Sunday thinks the influence of the Order could resolve in its own way.)

Sunday's been putting more resources into finding the serial killer than he is into the Charmony Festival, upsetting other Family members. If he's the one behind everything, he should already have a plan in mind for the Charmony Festival and so it's not a concern to him but the serial murders act as a chaotic element upsetting his attempted Order so stopping them and restoring Order is his higher priority.

On the subject of the serial murders: one detail we got in v2.1 is that the victims seem to be entirely random with no correlations or similarities between them. It could be that we just don't know the underlying reason but what if it is random? Intentionally random because doing it like that means there's no order to them. Something chaotic to disrupt the mastermind's plans to re-align Penacony into the Order. If they're Enigmata-themed like Gallagher, the random killings serve the double-purpose of obfuscating their true intent by making people try to find reason where there isn't any.

(I want to emphasize here that Sunday wasn't behind Robin's murder. This idea only works if he and the killer are on opposing sides, plus when he confronts Gallagher about her death I believe he's genuinely upset about it. Her investigation into the Harmony on Penacony is probably why she was targeted but I still believe Sunday would've tried other ways of getting her onto his side if she found out.)

Now, Robin did presume he was innocent, but we can excuse that on the basis that it's unlikely she would assume her own brother had ulterior motives, and his "death" at the end of v2.1 could simply be a narrative red herring to make us think he's only a victim in all this.

The last point I want to make here: the main event of the Charmony Festival is supposed to be Xipe's incarnation descending (in this case Dominicus, who was referenced in v2.1). If someone is actively trying to tilt Penacony away from Harmony and towards Order, then by the time the Charmony Festival actually arrives it might be not be Xipe's incarnation we see descend, but instead an incarnation of Ena. Hell, we might have actually seen that exact situation happening in one of The Great Septimus' attacks:

#EZ: HSR #HSR #Honkai Star Rail #HSR Ena #HSR Sunday #HSR Specposting #fun fact: did you know septimus' third phase renames itself to “Embryo of Philosophy”? #just translate the name on it in the livestream #smth smth trying to rebirth Ena

[birdmenmanga]

stricken with illness rendering me incapable of finishing any reishi fanart

#just thinking thoughts... #WHY. #I'm literally so obsessed with them and yet these are still lying in my wip pile like ??? hello. come on bestie you got this #I'm so angry that the kissing under the painting of the ecstasy of st teresa one is still undone btw I think it's SO fucking funny #funniest bit in the history of soh's artwork and that's including the communism comic btw #I'm really sad about the bottom one btw. I think it's frankly beyond salvation and I need to restart it. #but I have to finish it otherwise I can't post right hand man on tumblr whyyyy why would I lock myself out of posting content like this #the top one. well. I just drew it earlier today actually. and you know what. I don't want to draw stairs actually LMAO #is it not enough to have a shitty 30 minute sketch??? #the composition also sucks for the bottom one lol. idk what's wrong with it but I don't like it #THE COMPOSITIONS ARE IMMACULATE FOR THE TOP TWO THOUGH. IT'S SO GOOD> #me (annoying as hell): do you see the negative space where eishi usually sits on the steps??? do you see it?? do you???? #and the ecstasy of st teresa one is just SUPER funny perspectivewise #you're like crouching next to their table at the fucking restaurant and peeping your eyes above the table and they're both watching you doit #like the concept of it is just HILARIOUS. #WITH THE LIGHTBULB AT THE TOP!! #there is just something about it. is it a halo? it could be.

[thebirdarts]

Pose<3

#hey dude why are your fucked up halo like things irregular and centered not in the middle of your face???? #bc hes a fake bitch<3 his 'centre' is in the eye of the beholder #gold & silver #cecio #thebirdarts #yall are spared my mountain of tags trying to figure out which jojo's pose i subconsciously riffed #the answer is fucking any of them idk #i used my own references #[strongest contended is one from part 2 but i made the arm horizontal not vertical. but idfk] #ive read almost 7 volumes & all of the anime it could be any #the only reason part 2 is a strong contender is bc SOMEONE #looped the fucking opening for the hours we were in vc one night and its burned into my fucking brain #it haunts my sleep #might be Jolyne. just a feeling #and i will give my headshots clothes when i need to cover something. im not thinking about cloth for like. a tint bit of torso

[doom-dreaming]

Blue Team (+ Cortana) Sims

(Places four tiny Spartans and an even tinier Cortana into your hands.)

Our main boy. Gap-toothed and covered in freckles. :) They're all over his shoulders, too. And his chest. And his back. It's great. He also has a secret tattoo on his shoulder.

Kellyyyyyyyyyyy. My silly rabbit. In all her blue-haired glory. Fun fact: Kelly looks different in every single reference photo I used. Thanks, Halo. All I have to go on is "rough, angular beauty" and a bunch of wildly-different renderings from a billion sources.

Linda! Everyone's favorite sniper. Turns out the birthmark options can also look like scars, so that's cool. I just think they should have more battle damage than literally every picture I've ever seen of them. You're telling me these people have been in heavy combat for over four decades and their faces are pristine? I don't buy it, no matter how good they are at keeping their helmets on.

Fred turned out much better after I spent a little more time messing with his face bones. And he doesn't look as much like he's constantly on the verge of tears like the first version. Lmao. Even got the gray (sorry, "silver") hair in there. And idk, I thought the tattoo looked cool. I do have Blue Team tattoo headcanons, but Sims doesn't really have anything close.

She!!!!! I was trying to get her close to the Halo 2 Anniversary facial structure, since it's my favorite look for her and her face is different in literally every game. I think I did a decent job. As decent a job as one can manage in a minimally-modded Sims game.

Good news, the height slider looks great with this group. John and Fred are at max height (Kelly and Linda are close to it) and Cortana's at minimum and. it's just good. It's very good. I'm finally realizing I have a very real thing for size differences, which is technically something I always knew, but. Anyway. There they are, I'm pretty happy with how they turned out! I still haven't finished their house yet.

#i will spare the halo tag and character tags from having to see this #blue team beach house #i'm still on the fence about john's hair #i might change it #and something still looks off to me about fred but i can't figure out what it is #and i'm worried i've just spent too much time messing with him #really thrilled by how much john looks like he could have been a little shit of a six-year-old #i think i captured the energy accurately #posts this at a time when no one is awake #maybe i'll reblog it later if i'm feeling obnoxious enough

[justaleksey]

We just saw a moon halo!! :D

#meteorology #i guess #it was really beautiful and impossible to capture for my crappy camera #it got really cold and the moon is very bright #apparently its a 22° halo and it happens because of little crystals of ice in some layers of atmosphere #man i love meteorologic phenomenons so. much!! #i feel like i could ramble about them for hours #if i knew something about them that is #man just even the regular ass clouds are so beautiful and diverse #and there are so many rare types that only happen in some ridiculous circumstances #and its just so #just the weather #our nature #our atmosphere #the fact itself that it can be so stunningly pretty at times #its so cool

[inhonoredglory]

Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #it's kinda like capt america: civil war #with Azi as Tony Stark: traumatized and trying to do the right thing #and Crowley being Steve Rogers: fuck the establishment let's go rogue #gos2spoilers #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #go s2 #michael sheen #go s2 meta #go meta #*mine #*mymeta #ineffables husbands #ineffable soulmates #*mybest

[rae-writes]

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more.  “Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me smut #om smut #lucifer x reader #om lucifer #lucifer smut #mammon x reader #om mammon #mammon smut #leviathan x reader #om levi #leviathan smut #satan x reader #om satan #satan smut #asmo x reader #om asmo #asmo smut #beel x reader #om beel #beel smut #belphie x reader #om belphegor #belphie smut

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

flower therapy | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after being rescued from the capitol’s torturous clutches, your boyfriend, finnick odair, assists you with recovering from haunting memories and ptsd.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: finnick being major boyfriend material, soft reader, mentions of torture, ptsd, panic attack, hurt/comfort, fluff

notes: the way i lowkey triggered myself into a panic attack while writing this?? i’m okay now though 😀

word count: 1.3k

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. That is what the psychiatric doctors of District Thirteen suggested after you were rescued from being captured and tortured in the Capitol. Their methods sounded daunting and all too familiar—sterile white rooms, memory flash cards, persistent strangers who would force you to relive your trauma so you could 'work through it'.

Finnick did not like the sound of that one bit. So, he offered an alternative.

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. The label was a mouthful. Finnick preferred to call it "flower therapy". Twice a week, you and Finnick were authorised to spend two hours above ground where you would sit in a nearby meadow, make daisy chains, and occasionally open up about what happened in the Capitol.

You liked to call it "the power of flowers". Stupid, but saying it always formed a little smile on your face and there was no harm in simple joy considering the cruelties you had endured. Most of the time, you were silent and would lie in Finnick's arms while making flower crowns. He was always patient; he understood you needed time. Day after day, he proved his unconditional love, and you thanked the universe for blessing you with such an incredible man.

"Oh no," you whispered.

"What is it?"

You dangled your broken daisy chain in front of you and Finnick.

"Oh no," he echoed.

Your back rested against his chest and his arms enveloped your body as he held his own effortlessly crafted yellow chain in your lap. Apparently, years of weaving fishing nets creates a master of making daisy chains.

"Here," he said, positioning his own flower crown on your head. "Beautiful."

Smiling, you turned your head to face him. "I'm going to tell everyone I made it."

The flowers sat like a golden halo atop your head, beaming just as bright as the smile Finnick had bloomed at the sight of you. Beauty was everything that you were; not just outwardly, but within the confines of your mind too. Flowers and sunlight were interwoven with your soul, making up the essence of who you were—loving and warm-hearted. One of the many reasons Finnick had fallen in love with you.

He would forever want to remain in your garden, tending to and protecting every petal that blossomed.

His thumb swiped affectionately across your cheek. "Of course you are, you thief," he murmured, grinning. "You owe me."

Your stomach flooded with butterflies and you leaned in, tenderly kissing him with soft pink lips. Finnick cupped your cheek, stroking the baby hairs of your hairline with his fingers as he smiled against your mouth. Even your lips tasted like sweet nectar to him.

After you pulled away, you settled back into his embrace, sinking into those arms that shielded you from any and all harm.

"Okay, I suppose you're forgiven," Finnick said, the smile present in his voice.

You toyed with his fingers while wearing a glowing smile of your own, his arms lovingly wrapped around your body. Oh, you loved him so endlessly.

As the sun began to lower, a mixture of orange and pink clouds blanketed the sky. The trees surrounding the meadow cast large shadows throughout the area, making it appear much darker than it really was. A subtle shift in the once tranquil atmosphere rippled through the meadow, happiness now becoming a distant and unreachable feeling.

The broken daisy chain crumpled in your hands no longer shined in the sun like a beautiful mess. It instead looked tangled. Chaotic. Darkened by the dimming light and transformed into something sinister that resurfaced haunting memories of the Capitol—twisted IV tubes filled with unknown substances, chains that removed layers of skin, decaying white roses that covered the floor of your cell.

Heaviness clutched at your heart, suffocating you from within.

Finnick sensed the sudden shift, loosening his hold around you as he whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I—I don't know," you stammered, the air thinning around you.

The wilting daisies started to taint your hands with darkness, creeping slowly up your arms and causing them to tremble. Finnick, who noticed your fixation on the daisy chain, gently took the flowers from your grasp and set them aside.

It was too late; the panic had already set in.

He turned your body to the side in his lap, forcing you to face him. Your eyes flickered with worry. No amount of pain could compare to the heartbreak he felt seeing you like this.

"Hey. Hey, look at me," he urged, his tone soothing. "Breathe with me, alright? In..." He inhaled deeply through his nose. "And out."

But it was no use. Air was caged within your lungs, burning like fiery hot whirlwinds inside your chest. It was all you could do to force rapid shallow breaths out of your mouth.

"No, no!" A tear fell from your eye as you fervently shook your head. "Finn, I ca—I can't."

"Yes, you can, baby," he said, pushing aside the hair that obscured your vision. His eyes searched the area, looking for anything that could help distract your frantic mind. That is when he spotted a small flock of birds perched on one of the tree branches, instantly recognising their black feathers and sharp beaks. "Look. See those birds? They're mockingjays."

Finnick pointed up at the tree, gaining your attention which then shifted to the birds that were gawking down at you with curious tilting heads. Mockingjays. Katniss. Rebellion. Hope. You focused all your attention on the little black birds and listened to Finnick's reassuring voice.

"They'll repeat any tune you make," he continued, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Can you do that for me? Try and whistle something for them?"

Attempting to control your ragged breathing, you jerkily nodded. Songs from the world before the war overtook your mind. At first, it was overwhelming as your mind scrambled for a suitable melody, fuelling your panicked state. But then you heard something familiar and focused on the familiar tune, one that was from your childhood.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep, my little baby,

When you wake you shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

It was a lullaby your mother sang whenever you were upset. Seemed fitting considering the situation. You managed to whistle the first few notes, albeit a little wobbly of course, hardly noticing the air that was starting to flow more freely into your lungs.

"That's it, sweet girl."

Once the mockingjays began echoing the song throughout the forest—far more beautifully than your broken whistles—you continued the melody until the end. When you finished, the birds continued to repeat the tune, singing your mother's lullaby over and over in the trees of District Thirteen.

Whilst sat cradled in Finnick's embrace, you quietly hummed along as he stroked soft patterns on your arm. Darkness and pain were long forgotten now. Your body no longer trembled with fear nor did your breathing. Memories of the Capitol's brutality were locked away and hidden in the back of your mind, diligently guarded by the man whose arms you lay in.

Golden beams filtered through the tree trunks; the sun was now lowered enough to let the warm light in, illuminating both you and Finnick. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, wrapping you up even tighter in his arms now that he was certain the worst had passed.

You clutched onto his arm and blew out a final stabilising breath, finding comfort in the strength and protection he held. The side of your head rested against his chest, the beats of his heart harmonising like a drum with the mockingjays' song.

You wanted to apologise but knew his response would be dismissive. You wanted to tell him how deeply you loved and appreciated him but knew your words would fail you.

So, you remained silent.

"You're safe," Finnick whispered into your hair. "Right here, right now. I promise."

Right here, right now, you repeated in your mind. In Finnick's arms, you were safe. You were loved.

tags: @tayrae515

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #sam claflin #odesta #finnick x reader

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: semi-angst

notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to

PART TWO | PART THREE

Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.

“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.

Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.

“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.

At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?

Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.

Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.

“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.

“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.

“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.

Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.

Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.

Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel lucifer

[chososdiscordkitten]

Can I Suck Them?

Synopsis: Asking jjk men if u can suck on their boobies, ranked from most sensitive nipples to least w/ GN!Reader

Includes: 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢

(a.n)the only one that has like 'real' smut it gojos, the first time I write for Naoya...... scary.

MDNI

Kento Nanami

Nanami had caught you staring at his chest a handful of times, often thinking why you were looking- or why you had that depraved look in your eye. But when you finally had the gall to ask- “Can I suck your tits?” in a playful tone- eyeing the little bumps beneath his white sleep shirt that accentuated his large pecs. 

“I don't have tits, sweetheart.” he smiled with a sigh as he looked down to his coffee cup. You hummed, looking at the curve of his chest, 

With a smile you crooned, “Is that a no?” watching his expression fall- in all honesty Nanami thought you were kidding, the question not too strange from the usual things you'd say to him. Knowing you'd say little unfiltered comments with no meaning behind them. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side waiting for you to laugh and say you were kidding. 

Only you didn't. 

Finding you standing before him, thumbing the protruding bud hidden by the white fabric as you stared at his waning expression. 

Nanami tried keeping a stoic face- he tried pretending that it didn't feel like anything. But the more he tried to keep the little sighs in the sound of whimpers to himself- the more they wanted to come out. 

All that from just a few swipes of your thumb on his nipple. Nanami knew he was sensitive- often having to wear an undershirt beneath his button downs to avoid the light grazes from the coarse fabric. But he didn't know they were sensitive in this way. 

In the way that had his cock jumping in his pajama bottoms, had his heart pounding beneath his plentiful pecs, and most embarrassing of all- had his eyebrows pinching up in a light crease, with soft puffs coming from his lungs in the shape of small whimpers. 

And though you looked at him with an astonished expression- he still felt a sprinkle of vulnerability as you pressed your thumb onto the pebble beneath the fabric. 

Here you were- thinking if he’s squirming now, even with the millimeter of his shirt separating your thumb from his nipple- what face would he make once you sucked them?

Nanami placed his mug onto the kitchen counter, fearing if you continued he might drop it. 

You pulled your thumb from the white cotton, mouth watering, scoffing lightly at how you could almost see the halo of pink beneath the white fabric. 

Your hands fell to the hem of his shirt- looking into his eyes and asking, “Can I?” with an expression that could only be described as wondrous. 

Nanami hesitated, he furrowed his eyebrows and thought about it for a solid few seconds- unsure if he wanted to tread through these waters so early in the morning. 

Bordering on perverted how fast your hands maneuvered his shirt off the second he nodded ‘yes’. 

You stared at his plump chest for a second- admiring the light peach fuzz on them, Nanami was used to your deranged antics, sure. Times when you'd bring up something new to try in bed. Or when you'd spout insinuating compliments to him when he got home from work. Almost all those times, you were on the receiving end. 

But this- this was easing into a new dynamic that was unexplored between you two. You flashed your eyes to him, parting your lips and leaning in closer to his chest. 

The sound that left his throat when you licked a stripe onto the little stiff mound- was intoxicating. 

Your hand went to his other, rolling it in your fingers as you pressed your lips onto his chest. Nanami’s shoulders shivered from the warmth of your mouth, small huffs falling from his lips without censorship. 

The feeling of succession you felt when you finally swirled your tongue around it, how it felt to feel his cock harden against your tummy- it was like finally cracking a level of a game you've spent countless hours trying to beat.

The satisfaction of hearing the little gasps from his throat when you grazed your teeth against the little bud was something you didn't know you needed to hear till now. Even more when you'd let it go with a quiet ‘pop’, blowing light air onto the damp peak on his chest. 

The shivering breaths he exhaled were exhilarating to hear.

It wasn't long till you granted him the favor of pulling his weeping cock from his bottoms, stroking him slowly as he braced his hands onto the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping onto it. 

It wasn't an act that needed any dirty talk, nor any teasing from you. All you wanted was to please him. And maybe, soothe the itch you've felt in your brain since you noticed how suckable his chest really was. 

You were sure that this little discovery would make its way into some intimate moments with Nanami, judging how fucked out he looked from a few soft strokes and having his nipples sucked on. You were positive he could cum from that alone, but that was a trial for another day. 

Naoya Zenin

I honestly don't think he'd be open to it- but if he was he'd need a lot, a lot of convincing. But, I think if you were to be kissing him- sloppy and his tongue practically shoved down your throat. His back flush against the wall as your hands gripped onto his bare torso. He’d pull away, huffing with a light blush on his cheeks-

Naoya would place his hand atop your head, aiming your head down his bare torso. He would always do this, guide you to suck his cock before any kind of intercourse. 

Only you weren't some anti-romantic monster like he was. In an attempt to make this more caring- more sensual. You placed light kisses onto his collar bones, undoing the buckle of his pants as he huffed in annoyance. 

Naoya gruffed, “Hurry up.” he spit through clenched teeth, not knowing why you’d always have to take your time when it came to these things. Even when you explained ‘it feels better when it's slow’ he didn't believe you. 

But as you licked a small stripe past his nipple- just trying to convince him that a little build up was fun. Naoya unwillingly let out a sound neither of you had heard before. 

A mix of a hic and whimper- You froze with your lips parted, almost as though time stopped. Naoya’s shoulders tensed up, waiting for you to make a snide comment or make fun of him. 

Only you didn't, instead you darted your tongue past your lips, pressing it back gently onto his nipple as he huffed a quiet, ‘Sto-’ with a quivered lip, melting into the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive bud. Swirling the tip of your tongue around the erogenous zone as he sighed with a gulp.

That was till the realization of what was actually happening set in. He grasped your shoulders- pushing you back lightly. The look on his face was littered with confusion, a deep blush, a hint of thrill and most of all: he looked mortified. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, inhaling as you parted your lips- only for Naoya to interrupt. “Don’t.” he gritted through his teeth, “Don't say anything.” he avoided your gaze as he tried catching his breath. 

“It’s okay Naoya-” you exhaled in a whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek only for him to pull away with an exhale. “Shut up.” he gruffed, pushing away your hand that tried to caress his cheek.

Seeing as he refused to look at you or accept your assurances, instead you leaned down to the center of his chest. Right below his collar bones and pressed a kiss to his flushed skin. Being able to feel his heart pounding against your lips as he sighed. A mix of distress and satisfaction at feeling your lips press against his skin.

With your lips brushing against the little curve of his chest, “I just wanna make you feel good.” you murmured against his skin, only hearing a small exhale from Naoya’s bowed head, trying to hide the embarrassing expression he was making. 

“It's repulsive-” he whispered with a hidden grimace as you pressed soft pecks around his sensitive nipple, the blush on his cheeks tingling the tip of his nose. 

You tried hiding the smile that tickled his skin, “No, Naoya,” your words vibrated against his chest as you pulled from it, “It's hot.” you smiled before darting your tongue back out of your mouth. Assuring him that this wasn't some anomaly or out of the ordinary. You were ready to show him just how alluring his sensitivity was with your tongue. 

Again, he would let you do it. But only after a lot, a lot of convincing. But once you start, he's a puddle in your hands. 

Satoru Gojo

I see him applying lotion after a shower, carelessly swiping his hands to massage the lotion onto his chest. If he was being honest, Satoru had noticed your little staring problem whenever his chest would be glazed with something, clenching your jaw as you eyed the curve of his chest. 

A shit eating grin splayed onto his lips as he felt you gawk at his bare chest. “Hungry?” he spoke up with a cocky giggle. You sighed heavily, almost agreeing with what he asked. 

“It's so unfair.” you muttered, keeping a light tone as you watched his eyebrows furrow.

“Unfair?”

You took a few steps closer to him, a feigned mournful look on your face as you reached out to his still damp chest, holding his tits gently in your hands as though they were a prized possession, earning for Gojo to let out a breathy giggle, “Yes, deeply unfair.” you scoffed, running your thumb over his pale nipple. Earning a small huff from him in response.

Gojo felt an itch crawl up his back as you lightly grazed his nipple with your thumb, your other hand indenting into the swell seeing how pliant his skin was.

Early in your relationship you were aware his nipples were on the more sensitive side, seeing how blushed they'd get after he straightened his back, the friction from being chest to chest in missionary the cause. But you had yet to suck on them, even if most times your mouth would water seeing the light sheen of sweat on his chest after intercourse. 

You sucked your teeth, “They're sooo pretty ‘toru.” you exasperated, causing him to scoff at your words that sounded more sarcastic than you meant them to. 

Trying to play along- “You wanna suck ‘em?” he smiled, expecting you to laugh it off and continue your little charade. Only your eyes glimmered with a smile on your lips, and you didn't laugh it off. 

“Would you let me?” venturous and mouth watering at the thought. 

True, Satoru would let you if you really wanted to. Knowing you sucking his nipples wouldn't be the oddest thing done in your sex life- but it was an unmapped area that neither of you had brought up till this point. Though there were small grazes in passing- kissing down his torso before you went down on him, sure. But never did you latch onto it. 

And as Satoru looked at your expression, filled with yearning and want- it made one thing clear to him, that he was gonna be on the receiving end of nipple stimulation this time. 

You wanted to find a better place to do this than in the humid bathroom- so with a few sloppy kisses as your fingers lightly tugged and pulled on his pinkening nipples. You were surprised with the little whimpers he breathed into your mouth, knowing he was sensitive generally but he was extra sensitive as you tempted the rosy peaks of his chest to harden. 

Finding yourself kissing down his neck, your hands rolling his pink buds in your fingers as Gojo laid his head into the pillows. Softly whimpering as his cock started to harden against his pj’s. 

You pulled your lips from his collar bone, amazed with the roaming blush that only accentuated his pretty tits. You sighed as you watched him wriggle from your hands pinching his nipples, “Does it feel that good?” you asked, awestricken from how loud he was starting to whimper. 

Gojo huffed with a small smirk, “You have no idea how good it feels.” he whimpered with a light whine. You placed your lips onto the glistening swell of one his pecs, removing your stimulating fingers and tracing it down his carved torso. 

Your hand found its way to the elastic of his bottoms, softly palming his bulge as you placed wet kisses to the blushed swell of his pec. His large hand was on the back of your head- almost cradling it as he felt a ghost-like stripe of your spit dampen his nipple. Pulling back ever so slightly and blowing gently onto where you previously lapped. Causing a shivering whimper to rumble from his chest.

Breathlessly, Satoru huffed, “You keep doing that and I might cu-” he tried warning, only to be interrupted by your hand dipping into his pants, softly grasping his shaft as you attached your lips back to his nipple. A whiny ‘nngh’ from his throat as your reward. 

Swirling your tongue against the sensitivity- his hand on your head bordering on fisting your hair from how worked up he was getting. 

You were amazed at how pretty he sounded- how his cock was crying into your hand. Gojo sounded so fucking desperate- so needy. Like he was close to orgasm, but he couldn't focus enough on cumming. Your hand was too slow, stark comparison to your tongue that was flicking and slathering over his tender nipple. 

Satoru inhaled- filling his lungs with as much air he could as he reached his hand up to his opposite nipple, gently rolling it like you did before- you flashed your eyes to his hand, watching him play with his nipple causing a low groan to vibrate onto his nipple from your tongue.

This caused Satoru to grunt from the sudden tingle- “Faster baby- m’so close-” he managed, the words littered with whimpers as his hips bucked into your hand. 

You quickened your hand- fisting his cock as quick as you could. Hearing chopped throaty moans fall from his lips at the action- various breathless’- ‘Dont stop’ and warnings, ‘m’cummi-’ between every whimper and moan. 

Even if he meant it as a joke- you were happy to suck his tits till he was shuddering with ragged breaths. And Gojo was more than happy to let you.

Toji Zenin

Oh god, this man. I think you'd make a comment on it once. Just once, and now anytime he'd catch you staring he'd remind you he can feel your gaze.

“You're staring.” he'd say, knowing he wore a compression shirt that was not only- a smidge too tight (a lot tight), but it was also white- put those together and you can practically see the pink ring of his nipples through the fabric. 

It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. Like he was trying to tempt you to ask him. “Hard not to when you wear those tiny shirts.” You scoffed, earning Toji to look down and pretending to think if it was too small. Being able to see the stretch of the fabric across his chest. 

“They shrink in the wash.” he retorted, almost offended by your complaint. You gave a sarcastic ‘uh huh’ before returning your gaze back onto his chest. “I mean I can see your nipples from here-” you complained, hearing a sigh fall from his lips.

It was early, having breakfast after getting dressed. Which brought on this whole ‘tiny shirt’ debacle.

“You don't like it, don't look.”

“That's exactly why I'm looking.” you huffed mindlessly. Earning for him to scrunch his eyebrows together and pout his lip in a light grimace. You inhaled, chin in your hand as he played with the food on his plate, “I mean- you don't feel the air brush-” 

Toji called your name, almost too stern and in a borderline irritable tone. “-If you wanna ask me somethin’- ask.” he huffed, looking at you with a stoic expression. 

“Can. I… ssssuck them.” You droned out- not even bothering to make it sound like a question. Toji perked a brow in astonishment- he knew you wanted to do something to his chest- but the way you said it shocked him from how forward you were, knowing you usually danced around what you wanted leaving him to guess. 

“You want to suck my-” Toji tried speaking trying to get a clearer answer from you. 

“Your tits. Yes.” he scoffed at your crudeness. Toji thought it over, leaning back into the chair as he looked at your expression that got more and more flushed by the seconf. 

He sighed, tilting his head almost in pity at how nervous you had gotten, “I don't see why not.”

And with that you practically teleported onto his lap, straddling him as he sat on the dining chair. The over excited look on your face told him this had been a thought in your mind for a while-

His hands reached for the hem of the tight shirt- only for your own to halt it. “Don’t.” you smiled- almost maniacally. 

Toji shrugged it off, assumed you'd take it off for him and watched your hands trail onto his chest, placing your extended fingers onto each pec and squeezing lightly. “Are they sensitive?” you whispered feeling his hands rest on your hips with a sigh. 

“Dunno- no ones ever been weird enough to ask if they could suck ‘em.” he spewed almost in exasperation. Keeping a straight face as you huffed in amusement.

Excited to be the first to ever find out if he’d be responsive to you sucking them, you grinned. And that only proved his point in you being peculiar. 

You trailed your right hand down, now that you were up close you could see his nipple clearly through the strained fabric. Placing your index and middle finger on either side of the peaking color, pressing them closed and feeling the little bud between your fingers. “You said suck ‘em, not play with them.” he practically scolded, his cheeks starting to flush in the slightest. 

You sighed, leaning down and slipping your tongue past your lips- so ready to lick a stripe against the cotton. Only Toji watched what you were doing with furrowed eyebrows, a little unsettled that you were so eager to lick at them through fabric. But Toji knew he was in no place to judge, there have been stranger things done between you two, at his request. 

You fluttered your eyes shut as your tongue wet the white cotton. Almost instantly making the fabric clear against his nipple. Toji tried to keep an unbothered expression, but the small little laps against his nipple. The wet fabric caused his nipple to harden beneath the translucent spot you had licked.

Little by little, one gentle lick after the other, Toji started squirming beneath you. His cock rising not knowing if it was from your tongue, or from watching you. 

Feeling the sensitivity build up with every roll of your fingers over his opposite one. Till the feeling started making him regret allowing you this, and when he finally removed his damp shirt. 

Toji was able to feel the difference of how the air felt against his chest, being able to feel every light breath you exhaled from your nose. A shiver settled in his lower spine as you lightly brushed the tip of your tongue against the little bud of his nipple. 

Though the feeling was new- it wasn't unwelcomed. I think Toji would just see it as a new form of foreplay to be explored. 

Choso Kamo

Ahh my favorite boy. I'm discarding my favoritism for once. After a deep detailed conversation with my brother and a lot of analyzing, i've come to terms with choso being in the lower middle when it comes to how sensitive they are *sigh* as much as i'd like to say he's the most sensitive, i have to write this unbiased (￣ε￣〃)

I feel like the first time you ask him- out of all of them he would have the most ?? reaction. Let's pretend this takes place well after the many firsts of a relationship, okay? 

Sitting criss cross in front of each other on your shared bed. An expression that can only be described as mortified on his face, “You want to what?” he murmured with an irked head, thinking he misheard you. You sighed, all the confidence it took to say it the first time only to repeat it. 

You inhaled, “Choso can I-” you huffed seeing the look of mortification stay on his face, realizing he didn't mishear you the first time. “Would you let me- suck your… chest?” 

Choso knew of nipple stimulation, of how it can provide some pleasure. Though he himself hadn't explored it, he was skeptical of it feeling like anything to him. At first he’d only say yes to not embarrass you. 

“I don't see why you'd want to.” he mumbled to himself as he took his t-shirt off, you scooched closer to him, reaching out your hand and running your fingers atop the swell of one of his pec’s. 

“I found out the other day that some men have really sensitive nipples.” you smiled, running your thumb over the little peak. Flashing your eyes up and watching his expression go unchanged.

“And if mine aren't?” he looked down to your exploratory hand, raising a brow as you lightly swiped across it. 

You grinned, “There's no harm in checkin’.” with a hum, pressing your index finger and middle finger on either side of his budding nipple. Lightly pinching it between the sides of your fingers as he shifted softly.

“What does it feel like?” you whispered, flashing your eyes to his expression that seemed slightly perplexed. Choso felt his cheeks tingle, not from the action itself but watching that little glimmer in your eye form, how amazed you were at it getting firm between your fingers. 

Choso shifted slightly, feeling your fingers pinch softly. A small smile formed on his face as he felt the little pinch send a tingle down his spine. Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “Dunno.. weird?” he mumbled, causing you to flash a giddy smile. 

You pulled your fingers from his chest, and placed them into your mouth. Only the action confused Choso, since you asked to suck them, and didn't really get what this build up was about. 

“Like-” you scoffed, placing your damp fingers onto his nipple. “A good weird or a bad weird?” you smiled, seeing his lips part as you rolled his firm nipple between your fingers.

Answering your question without words, he let out a little exhale that took the shape of a moan as you pinched it lightly. “Is t-this what it feels like for you?” he huffed, his cheeks starting to blush as his cock jumped in his sweats. 

You grinned, seeing your efforts pay off in the meek way he asked that question. “Sometimes-” you hummed sweetly, watching his shoulders shudder. “Can I put my mouth on it now?” you grinned, Choso bowed his head- not wanting you to see the expression forming on his face. 

“If you want to.” he mumbled, straightening his back and planting his hands behind him- pushing his chest out to you as he looked to the side. You almost let out a lecherous giggle at how shy he looked, but you held it in. Not wanting to embarrass him any more than what was needed. 

You rested yourself on the backs of your calves, placing your hands on the sides of his ribs as he inhaled. Aware of what was coming but not knowing what it would feel like.

With a smile you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, “You want me to jack you off too?” you whispered into his ear as you trailed your hand to his neglected nipple. Being able to see his cock rising to life beneath his sweats as you grazed your fingers against the other.

The way Choso called your name made it seem like you had just said the most filthy thing he had ever heard, brushing lightly onto his unstimulated bud, making note that though at first he may not feel much, the more you play with them the more sensitive they became. 

“I just wanna help,“ you smiled, looking down at the prominent bulge in his pants, “-but if you don't want it~” you teased, rolling the hardening bud between your fingers. 

“Just-” he huffed, feeling you roll the bud between your thumb and pointer finger, “Just don't say things like that-” he managed, feeling a small kiss pressed onto his cartilage before you trailed them down his neck.  

You left light trails of your saliva on the curve of his pec, looking up at him as you fiddled with his other nipple, “Is that a noo..? Or?” you smiled against his skin, being able to feel his heartbeat pound against your lips. 

Choso took a minute to think on it, your mouth avoidant of his nipple and your fingers stimulating the other making it very hard to think right now. You huffed a smile against the little trail of spit that glistened on his chest, “You think I can make you cum from just sucking them?” there you went again saying things that made Choso let out a sigh.

“No, probably not,” he muttered through clenched teeth, “probably’ll be frustrating to try.” he finished, feeling you hum against the curve of his tit. You took that declaration and started trailing your hand down his torso, keeping the other planted on the bed as you plunged your hand into his pants, grasping onto his member and assisting it out of his bottoms. 

You locked eyes with him, mouth watering at the thought of how tender and malleable his nipple would feel on your tongue. In tandem with the first stroke on his cock, you traced the tip of your tongue around his slightly swollen nipple. Choso’s lips unwillingly letting out a muffled grunt mixed with a whine. 

Though it takes more time to get him to that whimpering point, it's worth it.

(if u want more my ‘prettier in pink’ fic has soooo much nipple play with choso ʘ‿ʘ)

Suguru Geto

He'd look at you with a quirked brow, all but asking- ‘Are you serious?’ as you looked at him with dazzled eyes, your hands planted on his sternum as you straddled his hips. 

The question came from your lips without permission- middle of foreplay when your eyes caught onto his nipples. You traced the pads of your fingers onto one of them, hearing a low groan rumble from his tongue. Not from the feeling, but from the act of it. 

Suguru has always been open to trying anything once, and the way your eyes glimmered as you thumbed the little bud on his chest. “Can I suck them?” you muttered, feeling his hands trail up your hips, he perked his eyebrow, a light blush on his cheeks as you ground your heat onto him. 

Though he was confused at your request, he nodded his head ‘yes’. Causing you to hunch your back and lean your head down. Kissing on his bare collarbones, trailing them between his chest, leaving a trail of your spit between them as his clothed cock shifted beneath you. 

Usually Suguru was the one who took on the responsibility of pleasuring you over his own needs, even if you offered- he’d just tell you it's fine. So the dynamic was a little different as you kissed onto the swell of his pec’s. 

Suguru was watching you with furrowed eyebrows, convinced that this was hardly foreplay. Besides, what's gonna come from a little nipple sucking?

But as you circled the ring of his bud, the exhale that came from your nose tickling his damp nipple- a chill ran down his spine settling in his lower abdomen as you swirled your tongue around the ring of color. Again, not from the action itself, but how you mimicked the way he would swirl  his tongue around your own.

You flattened your tongue and did a full swipe of his velvet nipple.

Keeping up the light licks and small grazes of your teeth as he did with you, earning little to no reactions. 

And even as you were riding him- trying your best to give him some kind of pleasure through his nipples. But not only did you manage to get them sore, you managed to get him frustrated enough to groan in dissatisfaction. Even if he was fucking into you- your attempts at stimulation were mildly irritable.

“They've just never been sensitive.” he huffed guiding your head to pull from his chest and looking at you, only you muttered something like ‘lemme keep going’ 

That's when he just gave a little laugh, “No- its starting to hurt.” he joked, gripping onto your hips and fucking up into you- hoping you’d forget this little urge to suck his chest. 

Overall, he would let you. But realistically he wouldn't feel much, would let you try and try till they were sore just because he liked you so very much. 

Hiromi Higuruma

Unfortunately I think Hiromi probably has the least sensitive nipples:( 

When you asked he kinda grimaced? Not seeing attraction or a point in it since he's not reactive to those kinds of touches. But he would let you try after you looked at him with a pout. 

And try you did. You did all you could, rolling them between your fingers, pinching them, lapping at them softly, then harsher. Didn't really achieve much, but Hiromi did get hard watching you try. Finding it endearing that you were so eager to make him feel good from just his nipples. 

But once you gave up, Hiromi was eager to show you how sensitive his cock was instead. 100% believe all the sensitivity he would’ve had in his nipples, doubled onto his cockhead. 

Hiromi was very excited to show you where he was most sensitive, “You can suck and lap at that as much as you want- I'll be responsive.” He assured with a smug smile.

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