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boiohboii · 9 months

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Hi! Could you do like toddler Leclerc reader, like she’s the baby sister of the Leclercs and even tho they are quite a lot older than her they love her more than anything and are very protective and doting over her, especially Charles

The three big bad wolves (leclerc!toddler!reader)

N.B: dear anon, thank you for the request......i had this in my inbox for a while, I hope you like it.... WARNINGS: not proof read, don't focus too much on age and stuff, baby leclerc having a crush on mr carlos sainz (who doesn't), I feel like I could've written the ending in a better way of sorts..... if I missed anything please let me know....

masterlist

The three leclerc boys had fallen in love in 2016, Lorenzo was 20, Charles was 19 and Arthur was 16 when they saw their first love. It was when YN Leclerc was born. Her lips parted as hiccups left her small body, her hands laying on her mother's chest and her eyes twinkling as she looked up at her three brothers.

The three boys didn't think their love for yn could be deeper, could be so much more than their hearts dancing at the sound of her giggles, so much more than sitting on small chairs, having their nails painted bright colors and their faces smeared by their mother's make-up. They didn't know how far their love can go, how deep their feelings could be but when tragedy struck the Leclerc household the three boys swore that they'd not just die for their baby sister, they would kill for her, they would tear down worlds for her.

YN coming to races had been rare, Pascale rarely leaves her baby girl out of her sight, she always wants her within her eyesight scared of what the world might do to her little baby.

So when Charles made his way with YN on his hip, some would argue that she is too old for this, her face hiding in his neck and arms wrapped tightly around him feeling safe in her brother's arm. Lorenzo and Arthur were with them as well, just behind Charles, trying to get yn to look at them but to no avail.

"Is that baby leclerc?"

A British voice rang through the hallway as Lando ran up to Charles, pushing Arthur out of the way to take a closer look at yn, stretching his hand to squish her chubby cheeks.

"Hey!"

Lando's protest was loud and clear as soon as Charles moved yn out of his hands way

"Stay away from my sister norris"

Lorenzo's sharp tone scared the youn brit into moving away, allowing Arthur to squeeze himself back into his rightful place.

"Yn baby"

"Yes 'tur"

The sound of her small voice had all 4 men melting, wanting to wrap the little girl in a blanket and keep her away from everything bad in this world.

"Come here"

Arthur extended his hand so that he can carry yn, but Charles maneuvered away from his younger brother refusing to let go of yn

"You have to let her go man, you need to change anyway"

"No no, just for a bit"

"Charles!" His team principle came within their eyesight, looking at charles as he pouted, wanting to have yn in his arms for a bit more.

Not wanting to get fired Charles moved yn into Arthur's arms as Lorenzo kept running his hand through her hair upon seeing her yawn.

"Hey, little leclerc!"

All tiredness disappeared from yn's face as Carlos Sainz jr. entered the room, yn had a crush on him and it wasn't a secret. Her mother and Carlos found it cute, it was a silly little thing that she'll grow out of, her brothers however hated it they didn't want to entertain the idea that she should even have a crush before being 25 years old.

"No, go away" Lorenzo spoke as he moved in front of yn, trying to block her eyesight but it was too late.

"Enzo, moovee" yn whined as she tried to push lorenzo away from her so that she could see the Spaniard

"Come on man, it's just a baby crush, it'll go with time" Carlos reasoned as yn stretched her arms towards him and started fussing in Arthur's hold, wanting to be held by the oldest driver.

"Hey yn" Carlos greeted as he bounced her lightly on his hip, the two words making the little girl blush, a smile on her lips so wide that she would later complain of her face hurting

"Non! Not again! Carlos!" The heavy sound of racing boots running closer reached everyone's ears as they looked towards charles

"Leave yn alone! Give her here"

"Non! Charles, I want to stay with Carlos" tightening her grip onto carlos' shirt, yn looked at Charles, challenging him and making sure that he sees her little hands on his teammate's shirt as a way to make it clear that she's not going anywhere.

"Mon ange!" Charles whined as he stomped his feet

"Honestly, which one of you is the little kid?"

"Zip it norris"

"Be nice to landy" yn frowned at her older brother, reaching one of her hands towards Lando's hair as she patted it as a form of apology making all three leclerc brothers annoyed

"This is just unfair" Arthur complained as he watched his sister have a puppy crush on two drivers, they really shouldn't have introduced her to any of the drivers.

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starfinss · 8 months

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Thanks for answering my ask!😊 i do have request/suggestion involving Cyno haha, what about a 🍋 scenario where Cyno, Al Haitham and a character of your choice get accidentally hard from having their S/O innocently sit on their lap? They try to hide it but they fail.. 🙈 if that would be alright with you!

This has been in my inbox for literal months, I am SO sorry.

I’ve been planning a trip abroad, plus I’ve had no ideas for this prompt until like an hour ago when I was playing Genshin and thinking of story ideas. Anyway, sure, I’ll write that. The character of my choice will be Lyney, because I’m working on his build right now and I’ve been sort of drafting a fic for him while I’m writing the Jing Yuan fic.

As always, let me know if any of you want full fics from this.

—𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴.

— 𝘈𝘭𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮

— Unless you’re at home together, I doubt Alhaitham would let you sit on his lap for this very reason.

— Alhaitham is a man who lives my the rules of logic, and while I won’t say he hasn’t fucked you on his desk at work, he’d call those ‘momentary lapses in judgement.’

— Not that he didn’t enjoy them, though.

— He’s the type who likes to do things where the chances of being caught are low. He likes to draw things out, doing everything he can to make you feel good. And so, he prefers to engage in activity like this in the comfort of your bedroom.

— So, in instances like this, if you were to convince him to let you sit in his lap while you waited for him to finish up his work after everyone was home for the night, he might give in, just a little bit.

— Really, you just wanted to be close to him, maybe close your eyes for a while. He loves closeness as much as the next person, being near to the one you love is always nice.

— The risk of being seen in such a compromising position is low, which is a plus, and he gets to feel your warmth against his body as he finishes what he has to do for the day.

— But then you shift forward, nuzzling closer, and your body rubs against his just right, and oh Archons, he doesn’t have time for this.

— The way your body settles so perfectly over him makes his mind scatter to anything and everything besides work. The friction as you rearrange yourself against him is enough to make him feel like he’s going crazy.

— He hides it well, though. Alhaitham is good at keeping a blank face.

— As casually as he can, he shifts you back so you’re away from his growing erection, because he has to finish this paperwork before he leaves, and you’re so maddeningly distracting.

— But that doesn’t go unnoticed. You look up at him quizzically, and when you’re met with a blank stare, you shift back to where you were most comfortable, just to see his reaction.

— He sets his jaw, breath catching as he stiffens, unable to hide the way his body reacts to yours as you realize why he moved you away.

“Did I make you hard?” You whisper, a little surprised, “I didn’t even do anything.”

A quiet scoff as he looks at you fully, his self-restraint beginning to fray. Damn you for always having this effect on him.

“It’s kind of hard not to with you practically grinding against me.”

A sly smile overtakes your face, the innocent desire to hold him replaced with something much more lascivious.

“Would you like some help with that, Mister Acting Grand Sage?”

— Lips collide, and you end up bent over the desk as he holds you in place by your hips, the office filled with the sound of skin on skin and his low, pleasured groans as he fucks you, deep and hard, just the way he knows you like it.

— Needless to say, that paperwork didn’t end up getting done that night.

— 𝘊𝘺𝘯𝘰

— Like Alhaitham, I don’t think Cyno would really allow such a thing unless the two of you were alone in your own home.

— He doesn’t like breaking rules or doing things that could be seen as unbecoming, especially not in public.

— It’s because of the fact that he most likely wouldn’t engage in that sort of thing in public that I also doubt he’d try and hide it.

— In his eyes, things tend to be rather black and white, and he separates your sex life together from everyday life. He associates you sitting in his lap with other more improper thoughts that he shouldn’t be distracted by when he’s working or out of the house.

— It doesn’t change just how much he loves you, and even in daily life he expresses that in other ways.

— This is getting long winded and stupid but I want this to be interesting and not just “he’s reading a book and you’re in his lap,” which I could very easily do.

— I sure am a writer. Also this idea is stupid, but it’s also fun. I will probably write a full fic for it.

— But, anyway, the point I was making is, if you were to accidentally end up in his lap, then because of that association between you being that close and sexual activity, he might end up getting hard rather easily.

— While tracking a fugitive scholar together, the two of you end up being forced to fight when a group of Eremites come through, and the ensuing scuffle catches the attention of a herd of Sumpter Beasts.

— You and Cyno are confined into a small hiding space, and because of the limited amount of room, you’re forced to straddle him.

— You, of course, are wriggling around, trying to get comfortable in the awkward position, and it’s when you finally settle down onto his lap and he catches you by the waist to keep you from fully resting against him that you realize what has happened.

— He’s not meeting your eyes, simply looking out through the gaps in the rocks to watch the herd of beasts go by, but you can see his jaw tighten when you shift forward and out of his grip. When you move your hips down, a hand shoots out to still you with a grip that is nearly bruising.

“Stay still.”

— You’re a little surprised, he’s usually able to keep that sort of thing under control fairly well, but in retrospect, you can’t really blame him with all the moving around you were doing.

“Sorry,” you croak, suddenly mortified, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he says, “my body simply responded to the stimulation. It is always a possibility in such close quarters. Just stay still, please.”

— The rocks are digging into your knees, and despite his warning, you still try and shift for some relief, as slowly as you can, but he’s getting harder, and you can feel his hands scrambling for a grip on your hips and waist, and when he looks at you, the glint in his eyes is equal parts pleading and haggard.

— Slowly, teasingly, you roll your hips, and his head falls back against the wall of rocks behind it, eyes fluttering closed as you grind against him, the way he’s holding you so flush against him making the friction ever better.

“We shouldn’t,” he says, though his own protest sounds unconvincing as his voice drops several octaves lower, rough with lust, and especially so when his hips rise to press you even closer.

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?” You ask, wanting so badly to kiss him, and instead of answering you, he catches the back of your head, crushing your mouth against his.

— The buttons of your shirt are undone, his mouth is on your breasts as you fumble for the front of his shorts, struggling to get your own off, and he simply moves your panties aside after you’ve wrestled out of your clothing before yanking you down, stuffing you full of his thick cock.

— Your cries of pleasure are lost among the hoof beats of the Sumpter Beasts on the path above, and you share heated breath as you ride him, his hand on your waist to guide you along the length of his cock.

— His head dips down to watch where he disappears inside of you, and you feel his grip tighten on your body, feel him twitch inside of you, making you whimper.

— He’s sure to make you cum first, his thumb on your clit, muttering sweet filth into your skin as you come undone above him.

— You end up in that ravine longer than you excepted, if you couldn’t tell.

— 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘺

— Unlike the two others, I don’t think Lyney would be as private.

— A conversation with my good friend Paprika made me realize that Lyney is probably the type of guy who goes for what he wants, and if he was interested in someone, he’d likely just show that interest without beating around the bush.

— So I wouldn’t be surprised if he invited his s/o to sit on his lap, just casually, no matter where they were.

— It’s not even sexual, really, he just likes being close to the ones he loves, and you’re no exception. He loves holding you.

— He’s very romantic, too, I’d say. He knows just what to say to get you all weak in the knees. He loves you so much. The poor guy doesn’t have many people in his life who have shown him the love that you have, and he absolutely cherishes you.

— He’d even buy out all the seats in one of the upper boxes of the Opera Epiclese, just to have you all to himself, able to hold you close and tell you just how much he adores you in the dark of the grand auditorium.

— But he’s only human, and if you were to move just right while sitting in his lap, he’s going to have a reaction.

A soft chuckle tickled your ear in the silence, and you felt Lyney’s hands on your waist, gently holding you in place.

“Stay still, please, darling.”

— He wouldn’t really try and hide it, it’s kind of hard to when you’re right there.

— He’d bite back a gasp as you shift again, almost teasing him, shooting you a warning look.

“Can I help with that?”

A soft laugh, slightly strained. “And how would you do that?”

You pressed a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “Can I show you?”

He kisses your forehead. “As long as it’s quiet. We wouldn’t want to disturb the other patrons, would we?”

— You slip down from his lap and to the floor, where you kneel, between his knees. He’s seated in the farthest chair in the box, well hidden from sight if anyone were to look his way. You wouldn’t even be visible from that vantage point.

— He realizes what you’re doing and shifts his legs farther apart to accommodate you, and when you palm him through his slacks, you get the pleasure of watching the way his jaw tightens, breath drawn in sharply through his nose.

— You make short work of his belt and zipper, and he shifts his hips to let you tug his underwear down just enough to free his dick.

— He curses quietly when you wrap your hand around him, and when you begin to slowly stroke, his head tips back against the chair.

— When your mouth presses against his tip, you feel one gloved palm against the back of your head, urging you forward, lacing into your hair when you take him into your mouth.

— You feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth as you begin to bob your head, slow and steady, almost teasing, and you can hear him gasp softly above you, see him clamp one hand over his mouth as you watch him through your lashes.

— His grip tightens on your hair, groans muffled by the hand over his mouth, and you squeeze your thighs together, letting yourself moan around him, low and soft, and that’s enough to make his hips buck against your mouth. You know you’ll pay for that when you got home.

— You speed up, and his hand fists into your hair, desperate for any kind of purchase at all, and you hardly mind, especially when it leads to him shifting forward in his seat, forcing you to take more of him, gently guiding you back, only to fill your mouth once more.

— You loosen your throat and let him take control, using your mouth as he pleases, simply content with watching the way his face twists in pleasure, teeth digging into his knuckles as he tries desperately to stay quiet, and you can tell he’s close from the way he’s leaking into your mouth, his thighs shaking, grip growing borderline painful.

— He cums hard, gushing down your throat, and it’s a wonder he stays quiet during his climax, the effort of it all clearly taking a toll on him as you watch involuntary frustrated tears bead at the corner of his eyes and catch in his pale lashes.

— You pull off as he softens, licking your lips and making a show of swallowing, something he watches with heavy-lidded, hungry eyes.

— Cheekily, you settle back into the seat with him after he tucks himself away again, careful to avoid bumping against him.

— Yeah, you didn’t end up getting much sleep after you got home that night.

The fact that this took as long as it did haunts me and I am so sorry.

ALSO I GET TO SEE PAPRIKA IN PERSON THIS FALL YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!! I’m so excited, and I will probably cry.

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eiightysixbaby · 8 months

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as you've probably seen in your notifs, i'm a bit obsessed with your writing 😩 it's so good, i'm utterly obsessed

i was wondering if you could write something where steve is manhandling or rough housing with his gf and it takes a ✨️spicy✨️ turn?? i feel like there aren't enough fics with playful!steve tbh

anyway i'm gonna go back to reading everything you've ever posted now because i'm obsessed 😂

- @hornyhornyhimbos 🖤✨️

hiiiii omg I’m so sorry this request truly got lost in the abyss of my inbox, but I hope you enjoy this regardless. I needed something for reader and steve to be debating about and then… this goofiness was born. 🫶🏻 and thank you for the kind words, it means a lot that you like my writing :’)

18+ only

“There is no fucking way you haven’t seen Grease,” Steve says, sitting up from where he’d been laying on the sofa to look at you properly.

“Never seen it, I swear. I just don’t know if musicals are my thing,” you say, laughing lightly at his dumbfounded expression.

“How did I not know this about you?” he wonders aloud, pressing his palms to his forehead as if he’s deeply stressed.

“If you’d known would you not be dating me right now?” you tease, laughing harder when he rolls his eyes. You know there isn’t a universe where he wouldn’t want to date you, and he knows you know.

“I just can’t believe you’re just going to write it off as ‘oh, musicals aren’t my thing’” he says, his voice pitching higher when he mocks you. “Like, it’s a masterpiece. I’m hurt, babe,” he says, and you’re not quite sure how much of this is real anymore and how much is him teasing.

You only laugh more, shaking your head at his antics. “It can’t be that good. It’s a bunch of grown adults playing high schoolers, running around and singing.”

“Oh, honey, but you haven’t heard Hopelessly Devoted To You. Or Beauty School Dropout… or… or You’re The One That I Want!” he shouts exasperatedly, hands flying all over the place.

“Boooringgggg,” you drawl, really only saying it to get a rise out of him. You’d watch the movie if he asked you to, honestly you’d probably like it, and you both know it.

“Anything but. You haven’t heard Greased Lightning,” he continues, immediately jumping from his spot on the couch. He grabs the television remote, holding it up in front of him.

“Steve, what-”

“I’m about to show you how not boring it is.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you, shaking his hips as he brings the remote to his mouth like a microphone. He dives into a terrible rendition of Greased Lightning, not breaking eye contact with you.

“This car is automatic…” he cries out.

“Babe,” you say, looking at him questioningly.

“It’s systematic…”

“Steven, I swear to god,” you say as he hops up onto the coffee table, socked feet allowing him to slide on the surface.

“It’s hydromatic!”

He’s fully into it now, giving you a complete show as he sings. You’re in a fit of giggles, watching him in awe as he struts around. He’s trying and only somewhat succeeding in mimicking John Travolta’s dance moves, his arm outstretched as he points at you. His hips gyrate, he turns and shakes his ass exaggeratedly as he continues singing. You have to admit he looks damn good in those too-tight jeans.

He takes off his jacket, throwing it out to you as if he’s a real performer. He’s pitched his voice lower while he sings, really trying to sell his impersonation. You snort, rolling your eyes as you start to get up from your seat, attempting to head towards the kitchen to grab a drink.

He stops you, though, jumping down from the table to grab your arm, pulling you into him, chest to chest.

“Steve!” you gasp, palms pressing to his chest as he wraps a strong arm around you. Your heart flutters at the sudden closeness, heat creeping up your neck.

“You’re gonna miss the best part if you walk away now,” he says, trying so hard not to laugh.

“Oh, I think I’ve seen enough,” you tease, trying to break free from his grip.

You think he’s about to let you go when you’re scooped up by his muscular arms, thrown over his shoulder as he discards his ‘microphone’ onto the coffee table. You flail your limbs, struggling to catch your breath between laughs as he sets you down on the large sofa. He positions himself over you, knees digging into the cushion on either side of your stretched legs, caging you in. He pins your wrists above your head, hazel eyes wild as he laughs with you. His strength makes you dizzy, the way he manhandles you with ease sends you reeling.

“Now that I’ve got you right where I want you…” he says maniacally, dramatically. “I’m going to sing every single song from Grease in order of appearance in the film,” he finishes, adding a wicked cackle to the end of his sentence.

“No, no! Please! Please spare me!” you cry, playing right along with his act.

You try to free your wrists as your legs thrash underneath your boyfriend, but Steve’s grip tightens. His free hand grips the flesh of your hip, pinning you harder to the couch. He’s smiling, practically glowing with how much he likes you, but the mood suddenly shifts when you let out a soft, pleased little noise at the way he squeezes your skin. Your hips inadvertently roll a little, seeking him out.

Your arms no longer struggle against his grip, instead simply going limp beneath the expanse of his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, lips parting slightly as you really take in all of Steve. His cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink from exertion, his hair slightly out of place from all of his dancing. He’s beautiful, so gorgeous, and right now he’s looking at you like you’re his favorite sight in the world. Really, it’s because you are.

“Steve…” you breathe out, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath from your previous heavy fits of laughter.

He closes the distance between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours so softly yet so passionately. It says a million things, it expresses all of his adoration for you. Your tongue swipes gently into his mouth, tasting him just a little. His tongue meets yours then, sending chills through your body.

He pulls away eventually, looking at you like he’s lovestruck.

“You’re such a dork, Steve Harrington,” you murmur, but really it says ‘I love you’, ‘thank you for sharing your interests with me’, ‘you’re my favorite person’. And he knows.

“And you’re the girl that’s dating me,” he replies, smiling cutely down at you.

You tug the collar of his shirt, bringing him back down to your lips. Teeth and tongues clash once more as his hips roll into yours, making you whimper. He pushes the fabric of your skirt up your leg, higher higher higher until the pad of his thumb is teasing your cotton panties. Your wrists are freed from his grip, his hand pressing into the cushion to hold himself up. His thumb swipes over your needy core, teasing, but he’s met with a pool of warm wetness that sticks to his fingers. You flush as he gasps into your kiss, knowing he’s figured you out. He pulls his lips from yours and you pout, wiggling your hips slightly beneath him.

“What, honey? Did my imitation of Danny Zuko really do it for ya? Got you that wet?” he teases, smirking so adorably at you you want to smack him.

“Oh fuck off, I can’t stand you,” you reply. “But maybe.”

“Hey, you know what they say. ‘The chicks’ll cream for greased lightnin’” he quotes.

It earns him a well deserved eye-roll, but he makes up for all of his antics with how well he devours you afterwards.

#leah’s got mail 💌#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb

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cabotwife · 5 months

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Can you do a fluffy Johanna mason x reader where reader is bipolar going through a depression episode. If you don’t want to that’s fine I am just doing bad and though tha would be a cute thing because 2 “broken” traumatized people healing together is always a cute trope yk

Two Broken Halves

Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader

thank you for your request! i hope you enjoy 💗

warnings: poorly written fluff, not proofread

word count: 787

a/n: this one was a bit hard to write, mostly because i know that my experience with my depressive episodes are not the same thing that everybody experiences. reader is mostly based off of me and Ian Gallagher a little bit.

a/n pt2: if anybody finds themselves struggling, in anyway, or just need somebody to talk to, i want you to know that i am here and my messages/inbox is always open for you. i love you all<3

-> now i'ma take a nap before i start working on the next request

there’s a quiet buzz in the room as you lay in your bed, curled in on yourself. the faint sound of the door closing can be heard, and you know it’s your girlfriend.

“y/n! i’m back!” Johanna shouts, you can hear her throwing her shoes onto the ground.

you stay silent, staring at the wall beside the bed. “y/n?” Johanna’s in the room now, hovering by the door frame as she looks at you, trying to evaluate the situation.

the brunette huffs as she begins changing out of the clothes she had been wearing all day and into something comfier. she glances at you again before making her way over to where you’re laying on the bed.

she’s never been great at handling other people’s emotions.

Johanna bites her lip as she crouches down by your head, “hey baby, you feeling okay?” she says in a quiet voice, trying to be as gentle as she could.

when she still doesn’t get a reply from you she lets out a sigh, standing up. “i’ll be right back, okay?” even though she knows you won’t say anything she still pauses by the door to gaze back at you. she frowns as she leaves the room, leaving the door open behind her in case something happens.

after about a half an hour the brunette makes her way back into the room carrying a bowl of soup. she sets the bowl down on her nightstand before plopping herself down onto her side of the bed. “y/n/n?” she whispers, pulling your stiff form towards her. she positions the two of you so that you’re laying with your head on her abdomen.

Johanna runs her fingers through your hair as she looks down at you.

you’re staring at the sheets of the bed, your eyes are blank, almost empty. it saddens your girlfriend to see you like this.

“can you eat something for me? i know you haven’t eaten today.” she waits for your response, but none ever comes. “y/n please.” her tone is still soft, she’s trying to be gentle with you but she’s growing frustrated.

Johanna stares down at her girlfriend, a sigh leaving her lips. she pulls herself up, moving you off of her.

she stands by where your head is laying, she hits the bed lightly, “come on, you have to eat.”

“’m not hungry.” she hears you mumble.

she stares down at you, her eyes soft with worry. “just a little bit.” she huffs as she pulls you into a sitting position, sitting herself back down next to you on the bed. your head falls to her shoulder as she grabs the bowl of warm soup.

she stirs the spoon around before pulling it out slowly, moving it towards your mouth. you reluctantly open your mouth, allowing her to spoon-feed you.

Johanna smiles as you eat the soup slowly, “there ya go, beautiful.” she hums, continuing to feed you.

once the bowl is empty she places it back on the nightstand before turning back to you.

a grin overtakes her lips as she feels you snuggle against her shoulder.

you both sit in silence, just letting her hold you.

“i’m sorry.” you whisper after a few moments.

the brunette looks down at you, “you’re sorry?” she questions, “for what?”

“that you have to deal with me.” you stare at your hands as you find yourself playing with the hem of Johanna’s tank-top.

Johanna huffs, “i do not deal with you.” you can practically hear her eye-roll in her words. “hey, hey look at me.” she says, her hand finding its way to your jaw so she can tilt your head up. when your eyes meet she can finally see the tears in yours. “oh, sweet girl..” she whispers.

“i’m sorry.” you mumble again, rubbing at your eye to attempt and make the tears go away.

“i love you, y/n, i do.” she places a kiss to your forehead as she speaks, “you mean the world to me, i don’t- you’re not someone i have to deal with. i choose to take care of you, because i love you and you matter to me.” her fingers are running through your hair as the tears stream down your cheeks, “we take care of each other, y/n, we do. some days are harder than others, i, of all people. understand that.”

“i love you, Jo. thank you.” you whisper. Johanna grins, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your lips.

“wanna come out with me tomorrow? we could have a picnic..” Johanna asks gently, trying to probe you into leaving the bed.

you think for a moment before nodding slowly, “sure..” you hum.

#johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #x reader #imagine #the hunger games

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lutawolf · 9 months

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My Personal Weatherman and the D/s element Ep 2

I got my regular inbox from @notfreetoday I adore you. Thank you for always taking the time to explain things and cheer me on. So let's start this post off with some info from them. Also, if you haven't read ep 1 first, that can be found here.

"Oh oh @LutaWolf 💜 you might want to know - about the whole dryer/only 1 bedsheet thing - The author of the original manga clarified through a tweet that the line "it's been 3 years since then" that was posted in Ep 1 actually meant it's been 3 years since the convo they had in the library - at this point in the story they've only been living together for a few months. Hahaha, too many people were confused by how they've been supposedly together for 3 years but seem relatively new to each other"

For further elaborations from notfreetoday check out their post here.

Poor Yoh, he's already missing the D. Bless him. I personally feel this is a valid response to a lack of sex. I would likely have skipped making the cute doll and gone straight to the priest. But that's just me.

As soon as Segasaki enters the house, he's looking for Yoh. When he looks around and notices a dark home, he goes right to his room. Yoh is concerned because he thinks this must be due to Segasaki wanting food, but Segasaki immediately corrects this.

There is a lot going on. First, Segasaki knows something is wrong with Yoh. Okay so, it's been three years since the conversation but a few months of living together. Yet Segasaki already seems to catch on to things concerning Yoh, which I would expect from a Dom but not this fast. It makes me wonder how long Segasaki actually had been watching Yoh prior to even approaching him with the deal. Also, he left the door open when he left. Like offering up an invitation. Come out here. Come be with me.

Then in the next scene. There he is, immediately sitting down and being with Yoh.

Sure, he makes excuses as to why, but only Yoh doesn't realize their excuses. He's also being super considerate. He could demand Yoh spend time with him, but he's trying to find Yoh's boundaries. Then when Yoh goes to fix him a plate, he immediately stops him. Though it's in such a stoic way as to confuse Yoh.

A Dom can feel insecure too, and that's what I feel we may be seeing from Segasaki. Which is why we are getting attention seeking demands from him. That Yoh once again completely misreads. Segasaki wants to feel connected to him.

Again, he notices something off with Yoh and asks, but Yoh doesn't talk. And he doesn't push. The drink. I freaking love that he drinks from Yoh. I do this so often but have never seen it represented in a show or movie before, it tickles me.

These two are both so in love with each other, but they're both just stupid. Waking him up to make sure he goes and sleeps in a bed. Segasaki's sadness at being late and likely missing the Yoh making him dinner. You can see Yoh's instant sadness at being told not to make dinner for him. For all he complains about being a "servant" he sure does get upset when the duties are taken away. And let me repeat, in my opinion he is in no way a slave/servant, that's just how he views himself. It is not how Segasaki views him, and for a slave/servant he is given far too many liberties.

Here is the thing about M/s relationships. The master owns the slave. Slaves have absolutely no power. The best example is actually Hira from My Beautiful Man, prior to them developing a relationship anyway. Now, outside of fiction, the submissive 100% consents to this. This is not what we are seeing with Yoh. He is giving off all kinds of brat vibes, and Segasaki is allowing it. Which is why I'm saying what I'm saying about Yoh.

In general, M/s and BT/b won't be in the same room. We have a whole different view on D/s relationships. A Brat Tamer and brat will likely have experience in M/s relationships, but a M/s will have zero experience in BT/b relationships. Did I lose you? A Brat Tamer and brat when entering the kink community will often explore themselves and all the D/s spectrums, but once landing on BT/b, they stop. They've found themselves. A Master and slave will never explore BT/b, we either disgust them or confuse them.

I adore how he realized what he was doing and threw down the teruteru bouzu like it was going to contaminate him.

Ugh, why we got to talk about a woman's cleavage. Especially as another female. Why put a female down over fucking tits? I get that this story line is meant to sure as initiating the jealousy from Yoh. I personally don't appreciate it, though. They could have easily established it without discussing how a female should or should not dress. Honestly, though, I think they did it in order to put the woman's tits on display, and I'm not mad at it. I hit the pause button and gave suitable appreciation for the support that bra was giving her.

Segasaki is completely oblivious to anyone other than Yoh and given the opportunity of getting home early to him. He is taking it. Sorry party lovers.

OH, that look Segasaki gives after the initial "huh!" is a look that I'm sure had subs alike backing up from their screen. That look, is a Dom's I'll be damned, look. I personally got giddy over it. Yup, "You have the nerve to do this when someone is holding back?" The fact that he was allowed to push him away, and rather than getting punished, Segasaki begins cleaning up after him. That's a Brat Tamer and brat. Each Dom in my opinion has a different type of patience. You can't beat a Deep Dom when it comes to play but lifestyle, that's hands down a Brat Tamer. We are more likely to be charmed and amused by things that would set other Doms off. But there are no doubts that he is Dom. He said stop drinking, and he isn't backing down.

Oh, that shut up takes him by surprise and pauses him. His face tightens in annoyance, but he waits and listens to Yoh. He is not too happy when Yoh says that he'll make lots of money and get out of there. He wants an explanation, but his brat pushes him away. These two are a shitshow. A train wreck that I can't look away from. Drunk Yoh is a brave and talkative Yoh. On the bright side, we are getting mush needed things said.

Oh damn, there is lots of anger there. Yoh is very pushy, and let me say that only a guilty Dom would put up with that shit. "You never smile at me like that."

"I'm tired. I'm tired when I'm with you. I hate it."

And I have just fallen in love with Segasaki as a Dom. I've been falling since the first episode, but now he has cemented it. When Yoh says this, Segasaki becomes self reflective. Sure he's sad, that's expressed in facial expression and body language, but he isn't mad, and then we see that he's appreciative. Which he expresses to Yoh.

He rubs his head, "You talk a lot when drunk." Then he smiles. Ohhh, I was wrong about the rain. It happens people. I still maintain that he saw Yoh's anticipation and enjoyed it, though. You are not going to convince me otherwise. Segasaki was trying to respect a boundary. Meanwhile, Yoh is like, "Can't we buy a dryer." Bro isn't good with just going and buying an extra sheet. No, homeboy wants a dryer so he can get that D on the regular without worrying about sheets.

OMG! I love these two so fucking much. Segasaki is like, you accepted my proposal, and now you're saying you don't want it. Giving a whole new meaning and light to it that has Yoh scrambling to catch up. Segasaki calls him an idiot. He also asks Yoh if he hates him and when Yoh says nothing, he says whatever and rubs Yoh's head. Though this time it's not affectionately. I think he knows that Yoh doesn't really hate him, but he doesn't know how to get the relationship on track either.

The next previews look promising and I'm excited!

Hope you guys enjoy! 💜💜💜

#Segasaki and Yoh #my personal weatherman #luta talks my personal weatherman #luta talks kink #coconuts mafia

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lovedazai · 4 months

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greeting mai <3

while i do not consider it entirely impossible to top chuuya, he will basically always top and i think a large part of it (looking into his psychology) has to do with the sheer amount of trust in another person it takes to allow them to take control of you in that way, especially in such a vulnerable state. even if chuuya could technically throw them off with his ability, he wouldn't be letting them top if he felt like he might do that anyway.

relating to soukoku, specifically with dazai, who can cancel chuuya's ability, i think the likelihood of dazai always topping chuuya isn't very high. (i know half the fandom believes otherwise, and you're not wrong for your own interpretation, this is just how i see it. i also think it would be way easier to top dazai, let me know if you want me to tell you why).

not to say that chuuya doesn't trust his partner, whoever they may be. keeping his guard up is just instinctual with how many times he's been stabbed in the back.

i think that as a top, he enjoys the power rush that comes from it, and he also likes knowing that he's doing a good job and taking care of you (he takes pride in providing for you, likes buying you gifts, wants you to know how loved and appreciated you are).

there's definitely a safe word established between the two of you (as there should be in every relationship) and i think that would help if you ever brought up the idea of him letting you top. (like actually top, not him being a power bottom while you ride him)

assuming that there's already a mutual sense of trust between the two of you to the point that chuuya would be comfortable sitting back and letting you drive things forward, the next trickiest thing to get over would be his pride.

he's already a bit insecure physically (about his height) so being topped by someone would only add to that embarrassment. you can't degrade him, let him know that there's nothing to be embarrassed about, but you also can't over praise him, he doesn't want to be treated like a baby.

paint the idea as something you're doing because you want to make him feel good. maybe it's to help him destress, or to pay him back/reward him for all the times he's focused on your pleasure. just don't forget to tell him how good the experience is for you too.

he's a bit of a tsundere, so he'd probably hold himself back a bit at first, but if you can get him to really relax and allow himself to enjoy it, he'd be melting into the bedsheets. especially if you touch his hair. please run your fingers through it. please scratch at his scalp. please give it a light tug. he's a puddle.

anyways, i obviously have a lot of thoughts on chuuya nakahara, he's very interesting to analyze. if you have anything to add or contradict i'd love to hear it.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

*bows*

me & u are on the same page nonnie !! i think chuu would pride himself on providing for his s/o in all ways including sexually. i can only imagine chuuya letting u top him if he was feeling esp worn out / sleepy or if it was like a little treat cus he knows u like it. he def loves the dominance that comes from being on top of u, i personally think chuuya is an ass man & prefers positions where ur back is to him

im not big into skk content cus of how ppl mischaracterize dazai & esp chuuya :< i feel like chuuya gets feminized in a way that isnt accurate to him at all. even in the way he speaks he comes off very masculine (i’ve never watched the dub so mayb it comes off less strongly in english) no offense to anyone who writes or likes content like this, its just a pet peeve of mine. i totally agree w u, the way i view skk is dazai is the pretty princess, hes the one who wants to be taken care of & babied & the little spoon

ty for ur perspective nonnie <33 if u ever want to let out any other thoughts my inbox is always open !! mwah!

#valentines #ʚ shhh ɞ

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babykittenteach · 3 months

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I LOVE your art so much. It’s always really fun and gorgeous, and I’m so excited every time it crosses my dash!

You mentioned trying to find a place to post your nsfw art. I don’t know if you’ve considered AO3, but it’s a great option that 1) allows folks who don’t have Twitter to see your work, 2) let’s people leave comments and 3) let’s them bookmark favs so they can come back to it.

AO3 probably won’t have the same reach as a social media post, so it could just be a link you share in addition to posting on twitter? Just a thought! But as someone who loves your work but had to delete their twitter, it’s a really accessible option.

OKAY so this has been sitting in my inbox for a while and I was like, that's a good idea, I should try it, signed up for an invite, and then promptly forgot about all that because of the cancellation until just now seeing more people have problems with twitter and being like, OH RIGHT. So I have made one, and will be making a single work into which the explicit stuff that didn't make it onto tumblr can be posted in their own chapters. Hopefully backdating to when they were posted means I don't annoy anyone. (It will take me a while, and since this is more intensive than posting to twitter, I may just update periodically instead of at time of crossposting? But hey, another option.) Anyway, thank you, anon. I didn't ignore this I just forgot about it. /o\ Anyway click here for the explicit art post, which I am slowly adding to. I'll make some nicer tumblr post when I'm done.

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titsgirlbuffy · 1 year

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hey sorry if you've gotten a million alerts about me liking way too many of your posts!! i'm currently rewatching Buffy and Angel for the first time in over a decade (i first watched both shows between ages 10 and 13 so this has been an eye opening rewatch) and the hyperfixation has returned big time! I've been scouring the internet for meta and all of yours that i've read resonate with me a lot.

if you ever feel like writing them out (no pressure of course!) i'd love to read some more of your gay Wesley thoughts -- i've also always read him as gay, and i have such a strange time going into his tag on tumblr because soooo much of it is Wes/Lilah content. i'm particularly curious about your thoughts on how a gay reading of Wesley impacts his storylines with Lilah, Fred, and maybe Virginia. also sorry if all this is weird from a non-Buffy-blog stranger!!

Omg Thank You for sending this! It’s been sitting in my inbox for a while cause I needed to actually think about it in words rather than just. Autistic screeching. And also cause I wanted to see more of the Wesley/Lilah relationship to make sure my first thoughts weren’t totally baseless (if anything they’re being proven further). Just watched Apocalypse Now-ish so there’s probably later stuff I’d add in if I’d seen the whole show.

I’m really surprised by how many fans read him as straight (no offense but we have different eyes). Wesley’s coded as queer pretty often – part of it’s just the queer-coding of the Buffyverse supernatural in general (see This Old Gang of Mine for a questionable but really clear-cut example), but there’s also tons where it’s him specifically (in Sanctuary where the council’s kill squad call him out on his “perverted” relationship with Angel and also call him a ponce, Wesley stopping Angel in that same episode before the fight to make sure he knows he gave up a chance to go home and be accepted by his father and culture For Angel, multiple times in season one when outsiders assume he and Angel are together, that time Angel gets possessed by an old guy who assumes Wesley is his boyfriend and tries to let him down gently but freaks out when Wesley goes to touch him… etc etc etc). Plus the way he looked up to Angel in early seasons absolutely comes across as a crush, he and Gunn were So into each other but Wesley especially was repressed about it (running theme, man radiates internalised homophobia), and all his relationships with women… well, there’s Layers going on.

So his early relationship with Cordelia was the first time (if you don’t count just. Looking at him) I solidly thought Wesley must be gay, rather than any other label. To me that’s absolutely a comphet relationship on his part. The crucial parts of the Cordelia/Wesley relationship is that 1. He sees himself as “a bad, bad man” for wanting to pursue anything with Cordelia, and as such 2. She is completely unattainable, but 3. When it’s proven that she’s Not unobtainable actually, the relationship falls apart the instant they try to do anything about it. He’s attracted to Cordelia because it’s a safely straight crush where he’s not Allowed to actually follow through on anything (and panics the moment he does anyway), and to an extent because a relationship would give him a reason to stay in California.

I headcanon Wesley as actually working out that he’s gay between seasons 1 and 2 – purely because he’s the one who introduces the group to Caritas and was visiting it between seasons, which… do I need to explain why Caritas is a gay bar? Please feel to ask me to explain that if anyone doesn’t get it, but for now, trust me, as a frequenter of gay karaoke bars, Caritas is 100% a gay karaoke bar. This is also around the time he starts dressing differently, stops wearing multi-piece fully buttoned suits year round in California. He’s getting more comfortable being himself.

Which all makes his relationship with Virginia really interesting. They met when he was mimicking Angel’s Straight Man Persona (literally in the same episode where Angel was getting therapy and being told that his manly persona is an act and that it’s hurting him. Yeah), and I’m not totally sure if she was a beard or a purposefully chosen Public Relationship. She was a billionaire socialite – again, Wesley’s internalised homophobia is off the charts, and this is a relationship that got into the papers (and would definitely get back to his family, if they made any effort to look). Sidenote, I’m genuinely certain that he was just homeless until they got together. Wesley is established as Broke™, starts dating a billionaire, and suddenly has a large swank apartment? In LA? I am simply drawing connections. So yeah, while I’m undecided about how much Virginia knew this, their relationship reads as one based on public persona and just social climbing generally.

Fred’s the most complicated of his relationships with women. The rivalry with Gunn is probably a part of it, but actually I think a bigger part is Billy. As in, Billy, the guy who made any guy who touched him (or his blood, sorry Wes) become violently misogynistic. Side eyeing the writers for that one, but still, it Really fucked Wesley up. Fred was fine, she doesn’t blame him, but after the spell wore off Wesley literally hid in his room for a week then told her “I don’t know what kind of man I am anymore” then Cut His Hair Short Again. Some sort of closeness to Fred had been alluded to before this (protecting her in This Old Gang Of Mine despite her very much being able to protect herself, suddenly being given an interest in science despite being a linguist), but that was really the turning point for this being a textual Attraction. Even then, similar to the Cordelia thing, Wesley never makes a move (assuring everyone who asked that he would when he was ready. Okay), and when he talks about it, it’s an attraction to a Fred that literally doesn’t exist.

Fred doesn’t need anyone making a shovel talk on her behalf – she can and will just kill them herself (at the point I’m at, she and Gunn might break up because He killed someone when she’d wanted to do it on her own). There was a great moment when Lilah dressed up as “Fred”, complete with schoolgirl outfit and glasses, and the shot cut to Fred, hair down, glasses free, ready to hunt a ghost with Gunn. The irony is that the Fred who actually Does exist has way more in common with Wesley (it’s honestly just the gender that’s the issue here), but in a combo of self hatred and need to redeem himself post-Billy, Wesley’s created this sweet innocent young scientist who he needs to Protect™. Is that love? Well, he didn’t make a move when he thought it was.

I can see why people like his relationship with Lilah. They’re awful. Literally the first time they slept together it was because Wesley was So depressed and was hoping he wouldn’t regret it until the morning (didn’t work. Regretted it instantly). He doesn’t have a job, and Lilah’s trying to recruit him to W&H. I said, the second time we saw them on screen, that he was prostituting himself. I was joking! But uh. Canon jokes about how “giving” Lilah is. Expensive bribes (“gifts”, Lilah insists) Wesley could never afford. He makes a bet with her for ONE DOLLAR, loses, she MAKES HIM SIGN THE DOLLAR, and then LEAVES IT WITH HIM. They’re in bed for this. I just. I was joking. I wasn’t expecting an actual scene of them in bed with a dollar bill between them. What the fuck. Anyway, that aside, he really does just hate himself right now, tangibly depressed post-baby-theft, and Lilah is There. Caritas doesn’t exist any more and there’s no plausible deniability in a non-demon gay bar.

Thanks again for reading my stuff @lostupst8 <3 never apologise for spamming me, I crave attention

#ats #wesley wyndam pryce #I'm probably missing a bunch of stuff but I Will post about this again #do ask any clarifying questions #my ask box is forever open #buffyverse #meta #angel the series #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer

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latibvles · 2 months

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Hiya friend, a big happy fic birthday to you and thank you for this lovely ask meme! For the One Year Inbox Game, I'd love to introduce Jo Brandt. A keen observer with a sharp and thoughtful voice, she heads overseas to cover the war in Europe as a correspondent for a Philadelphia newspaper. Her preference for blending in and letting her subjects lead the story tends to blur into her personal life, at least when we meet her. She grew up with very little, as did her friends, is deeply caring, a terrible liar, and hasn't gotten a good night's sleep since 1937. Her story is in progress, but snippets can be found on @shoshiwrites.

For those of you unaware, I opened up this inbox game in September to celebrate one year of writing my longfic. While I am not taking anymore submissions, one of the submissions in my inbox will be posted every week at 12pm EST! I hope you enjoy reading about all these lovely characters I'm being allowed to play with.

JO!!! JO!!!!! I have a big fat girl crush on her guys, just so we're all clear. Anyways, you can check out more of her here as mentioned by shoshi herself. Now, let me be selfish here for a little while and toss her in the ring with Miss Daisy herself. Because there's something really important about Daisy, who thinks she went by unnoticed, and Jo, with an eye for things. Have some postwar sweetness with the girls, with Daisy quickly learning she's not the only one who remembers:

—

There’s no reason for her to be nervous. Seriously, there’s absolutely no reason. In fact, Ron teased her days prior about it because it was so incredulous. But here she was, nervous, sitting in a coffee shop and warming her hands and staring out the window.

Get a grip, is her sentence of choice when scolding herself internally, it’s Jo, for Christ’s sake.

Okay, so maybe it’s not about the Jo of it but rather the fact that this could go one of two ways — the reopening of old stitches or a trip down memory lane. And either one kind of terrified her, even if it was for a good cause. She’d felt elated on the phone, talking to her, and now that was wearing off and the weight of what she’s doing is settling on her shoulders again.

But someone has to remember everything and she doesn’t mind being that person. She doesn’t mind answering the questions, or trying to write it down so all those women don’t just fall to the wayside. And she knew that Jo had a good pair of eyes. A great pair, even — seeing things that no one else manages to catch and well, hadn’t that been the whole of Daisy’s war? The unseen part, the bloody bandages changed out of frame. Sure, some of them were pretty enough for magazine covers, but it wasn’t like any of them really wanted to talk about what happened after the shot anymore.

They could be forgotten, and there’s a part of Daisy that just can’t let that happen. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right and if the war left her with anyone, at least it imbued her with a sense of urgency at times like this.

Speaking of eyes, her own snap up to meet familiar warm brown irises when the little bell rings and the woman herself walks through the door in a brown houndstooth coat and a folder tucked under one arm like precious cargo. The nerves that were certain to swallow her whole are almost soothed by the fact that it’s Jo, and Jo knows why it matters, and they’re going to bump shoulders the whole trip down memory lane.

It could be terrifying, but it doesn’t have to be.

Impulsively, and maybe just slightly imbued by the sight of her, Daisy straightens up with a smile.

“That’s the jacket!” serves as her hello, and Jo returns the smile.

“You remember that?” she asks, almost rhetorically. There was a story there, about a houndstooth jacket, and about Jo’s skill with a needle — because sometimes normalcy came in the form of talking about the mismatched buttons and stray threads of patches on a uniform coat.

“Of course I do,” The reply comes out just as easily as her first statement as Jo takes the seat across from her, file placed between them like a spirit board at a children’s slumber party. “Thanks for this, by the way.” Jo gives her a knowing look, a smile that edges on a tease with how it tugs at her lips.

“Third time you’ve thanked me, Clarke.”

“And there’ll be a fourth time too, knowing me,” She doesn’t protest, but she does go to open up the folder, pulling out pictures and spreading them out between them. Daisy can feel a sharp tug at her chest at the sight. She recognizes the faces spread out before her — Ginny sandwiched between two familiar officers, looking every bit like Madame President, even on the side of that beaten dirt path in the Netherlands. Another of Patty with a bright grin, her hand merely a suggestive blur as a result of her reflexive wave. There’s Rita who’s face is contorted in what has to be a scold for the man in front of her.

There’s one of Joe and Daisy herself, where she’s in the midst of messing with his bandages. The fact that they’re pulling the same grumpy face, no doubt sick of the former getting pelted by anything and everything, makes her laugh a little as she points to it, and Jo laughs too.

And then there’s one, so familiar it’s like she’s there. Spina, Roe, herself, and Laura all sat in a circle in Mourmelon, cards between them, cigarette hanging from Eugene’s lips and furling up and into the air. She can still imagine the bite of November cold, and the way Laura’s eyes lit up when she won twice in a row. A lump forms in her throat that she has to swallow.

“Didn’t think anyone noticed all this,” Daisy breathes out, feeling honest and raw but not terrified of the fact. Jo gives her one of those quiet, meaningful looks of hers.

“I did.”

#. sbt’s one year #. daisy clarke #poet’s notepad #a bit shorter but I like them #they’re sweet #and uh . reading about all the nurses who didn’t talk about Their War made me think heavily about this

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lale-txt · 2 years

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I'm also sending a second one but you don't have to do both my darling xx

Could I please have soft sweet headcanons about waking up in the morning with Rosinante? Thank you xx

you can always ask soft sweet headcanons about your mans from me, my love x (this has also been sitting in my inbox for far too long, i apologize!)

sweet and soft mornings w/ Rosinante & gn!reader (no pronouns)

oh, to have a day off with your lover, doing everything and nothing, only the things your hearts desire

you find yourself waking up tangled in his arms, maybe he also has one of his long legs thrown over your figure, holding onto you like a body pillow (not his fault that you’re coming just in just the right size for that)

even in his dreams he craves to be close to you, only finding peace when he can feel your skin on his

it’s unclear who of you wakes up first since you’ve both perfectioned the art of finding each others lips no matter how sleepdrunk you still are

there’s an unspoken rule that no one is allowed to leave the bed before you haven’t exchanged at least a hundred kisses

but also who wants to leave the bed anyway when it’s the warmest, softest place on Earth (right after in Rosinante’s arms)?

he’ll whisper the sweetest things in your ear and call you by your favorite pet names, letting you run your fingers through his golden hair while you’re lying next to each other, forehead on forehead, your eyes fluttering open to greet each other, slowly blinking “I love you” in morse code

if you remember them, you tell each others about the dreams you had – only the sweet ones though, the bad ones are getting shooed away with many kisses and back rubs

Rosinante will insist on bringing you your favorite drinks in the morning to bed, no matter how often you offer that you can do it too (there’s a 50/50 chance that he will stumble upon his own two legs and send himself and the drinks flying while in his heart-patterned underwear)

while you fluff up the pillows again and let some fresh air in, your lover is rummaging around in the kitchen, preparing a small breakfast for you as surprise, carrying the big tablet in slow motion and as careful as he can into bed to you

with a cup of coffee in his hands he’ll lean against the open window, smoking his first cigarette while watching you with bedroom eyes, his heart so full of you (if it’s cold outside he has either a blanket around his shoulder or his big coat)

praise him for the lovely breakfast and watch his cheeks blush slightly, acting like it was nothing, but in reality your words make him the happiest in the world. this and knowing you had so many more mornings like this to look forward too

he can’t let you be in bed alone for too long though, which is why he will smoke only half of his cigarette and puts it out before he crawls back under the sheets with you, both of you giggling as he wraps his arms around you once again, hungry for your body heat

he might suggest taking a nice warm bath together to start your day right or think out loud about all the movies you still have on your watch list; he will also read you something if you ask him to. every activity is welcome as long as you can spend precious time together

it’s so easy to slip back into sleep again when you’re snuggled like this to each other, although no dream could be as sweet as the reality of you holding each other, a love tucked under fresh and warm sheets, safe and sound.

#donquixote rosinante #corazon #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #one piece x reader #donquixote corazon #one piece reader insert #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece fluff

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Note

Can i try asking for

🩹💕☁️🤠

with honestly john maybe? ❤️❤️❤️

Thanks for sending this in, anon! Sorry it took a bit to be written. I hope you enjoy! 🥰❤️

I have 3 more of these little blurb requests sitting in my inbox — I promise I haven’t forgotten about them!

🩹 tending to each other's wounds

☁️ enemies to lovers

🤠 fake dating

💕 a moment of jealousy

A Brief Lapse in the Way Things Usually Are

warnings: slight injuries, mentions of blood

It’s late at night and (Y/N) hears a knock on her door.

“What have you done this time, Shelby?” (Y/N) asks with a sigh as she opens her door to find John Shelby standing on the other side of it.

“Don’t you ever think that maybe something happened to me?” he quirks an eyebrow in response as he looks at her.

“No,” she shakes her head without second thought, “why did you come here anyway?”

“This house was the closest...and since we’ve signed that deal, we’re on the same side now, remember?” he answers her, a slight grin forming on his face as he brings up the agreement between their two families that had been reached not too long ago.

“Don’t remind me,” (Y/N) remarks with a groan, an unhappy expression on her face.

“You gonna let me come in, or not?” John asks after they stood in silence for a few moments, “you know, since I am your boyfriend.”

“Not out of public you ain’t,” (Y/N)’s quick to shoot back, a pointed glare on her face before she purses her lips as she thinks about his first statement. “I’d rather not, but I guess that I should so I don’t have any more trouble showing up at my doorstep,” she says finally, exhaling a defeated sigh before she steps aside to let the man in.

John takes a seat at her dining table and looks at her expectantly. “What?” she asks, her eyebrows raised.

“Nothing,” John shakes his head before looking away from her.

That’s when she notices. “John, you’re bleeding,” her words come out in a gasp as she takes in the cut by his ear that she somehow missed when he first showed up at her door.

“Got into a fight,” he brushes her statement off, shrugging his shoulders.

“It should still be cleaned,” she insists, moving to her cabinets to get a rag and some alcohol then. “Let me see it,” she says as she sits down in the chair across from him.

Before she’s able to start, however, John notices something about her. “You’ve got some blood on you too,” he points out, pointing to her right hand.

(Y/N) looks down after hearing his statement to see that she has a cut in her thumb. “I was cutting vegetables and must’ve nicked it when I heard you knocking,” she answers in the same nonchalant tone as he did.

“Lemme clean it up first...since you’ll need your hands to clean my cut,” John offers and, after a moment of thought, (Y/N) allows him.

They go through the motions silently; John cleaning her cut and then (Y/N) cleaning his. It was fine while he was doing his work, but (Y/N) couldn’t shake the weird feeling inside of her as John watched her intently clean his wound. Unbeknownst to her, he had that same feeling.

“There...good as new,” (Y/N) announces as she finishes her work, a slight smile on her lips as she sits back in her chair again.

Before anything else could be said, a third voice enters the conversation, “how’s the dinner goin’, (Y/N)?” It’s a man, one that John hadn’t met before, and instantly he starts to feel what only could be described as jealously bubble up in his stomach.

“It’s getting there,” (Y/N) brushes the man off.

“Is that a Shelby?” the man asks then.

“It is. He’s leaving soon...go back in the sitting room and I’ll call you in when the food’s done,” she dismisses him and the man does what he’s told.

“Who’s that?” John can’t help but ask, trying hard to not let his feelings come through in his words because he had no clue why he was feeling them in the first place.

“Just a guy who works for my family. He’s harmless,” (Y/N) responds, a bit of a grin on her face because she could see right through John’s front.

“Good, because you have a boyfriend, you know,” John points out, feeling a bit more relaxed now.

“I have a fake boyfriend,” (Y/N) clarifies, the grin still on her lips, “but he shouldn’t worry, because that man’s like five years older than me and is already married,” she then puts his mind to rest even more.

The two smile at each other then, and John can’t help but laugh. Maybe it’d be nice to get along with her instead, he thinks.

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby blurb #peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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reds-ultrakill-brainrot · 7 months

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What are your headcanons for V1/V2 if they were to own a pet? Like, are they a cat person (robot...thing???) Or a dog person? Or fish person..or animal person??

Your writing is so lovely by the way !!!! (3

Furry (or not so Furry) Friends

pet headcanons (included characters; V1, V2)

x reader content (read platonic or romantic)

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- definitely a bird person, more specifically pigeons - they have a flock that they visit every so often. they are not really their owner per say, they just take care of them on occasion. the birds provide a slower and more menial task that allows V1 to destress between expeditions around hell - the birds tend to eat the viscera or gore that catches in V1’s chassis and limbs, which can be hard for them to remove otherwise. try not to think about wether that is healthy for the birds, but considering they live in hell i'm sure they could do worse - likes to just sit there and let the birds perch on their body, taking time to just watch them clamber over their form - would be happy to introduce you to their flock, the flock is fairly flighty so it might take a few attempts for them to approach you - you will find V1 watches you when you interact with the birds, they simply enjoy seeing you in an environment where the both of you are at peace, where they don't have to worry about protecting you - out of habit the birds may peck you expecting food, try not to react too harshly elsewise you might upset V1 - if V1 ever felt like they wont be back for a while, they most likely will get you to take care of the birds. this ends up being more for V1's sake than anything as they know the birds can take care of themselves, they just want you to have company

- doesn’t seem like an animal person Maybe owns a large type of spider - rants to the spider at length about, well, anything. Most people or husks they interact with just want them dead, so a captive audience is something they will always take advantage of - they treat it like it’s the scariest thing in the world - usually doesn’t like animals but thinks of the spider as a small predator, and loves the idea of ‘capturing such a crafty predator’ - i think they would name it something along the lines of Death, Pestilence or Plague. wether the spider lives up to the name is another thing entirely - would be hesitant about letting you take care of it, very much in the camp of 'my pet is my pride and joy and can do no wrong' - if by some chance they do let you, for your sake keep an eagle eye on the damn thing. You'll find that it is a very easy creature to take care of, i couldn't imagine V2 having enough time to take care of a more demanding pet - V2 doesn't want you to handle it, mainly for your own sake (not that they would tell you that), but if you have experience dealing with spiders they might let you hold it while doing their best impression of a helicopter parent - if it bites you that will be considered your own fault, no matter how much V2 likes you

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I live! Don't take this as an immediate opening of the flood gates content wise but I am happy to be back. Also for those of you who want to request, please do! Requests are done on a basis of what inspires me the most, and feel free to request multiple times, I will close my inbox when I have enough. Anyway, thanks for reading!

#ultrakill x reader #v1 ultrakill x reader #v2 ultrakill x reader

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adenei · 10 months

Text

Ch 1 - Never Really Over

*Deep breaths*

Soooo I've been working on a new multi-chap romione fic since April. Have kept it pretty quiet aside from my betas who have been wonderful with their help and support because let's be real, finding time to write and allow yourself to become invested in a hobby with an infant is HARD. But that's a whole other slew of issues for another day. You're here for the fic (I assume), so let's get back to that.

I love the direction this is taking, and am super proud of the idea and its development. I think I'm known a lot for taking existing stories/movies/etc and twisting them to fit a ship in an AU, but this one is all me - yay proving to myself that I CAN have original ideas!

It is an American Romione AU in a modern setting.

Summary:

Hermione Granger is a modern woman who doesn’t need to find love for self-fulfillment. Not that finding love is even an option anymore. Her perfect love story has come and gone with the one who got away—sorry, the one who disappeared is more like it.

That fake fairy tale is all well and good until Ron Weasley, the man who ruined everything, suddenly turns back up in her life with no explanation whatsoever. It seems his only goal is to show up wherever she is, attempting to undo the walls she’s built around her heart after he shattered it into a million tiny pieces. But Hermione’s determined not to let him in. With the help of her best friends and an online dating site that promises users their very own ‘happily ever after,’ she sets out to move on from her first love for good.

After a few misses, Billy slides into her inbox, a sweet, genuine, fun-loving guy who’s easy to talk to and fills Hermione with the hope that perhaps love isn’t off the table after all. Seemingly overnight, she’s gone from perpetually single to balancing a love triangle on a fine, fine line. The deeper she gets, the harder she realizes it’s going to be when she has to choose. The last thing she wants to do is break anyone’s heart—her own included.

So, without further ado, I give you the first chapter of Never Really Over.

Read on AO3

But once in a while I trip up and I cross the line, and I think of you

Work ᐧ a ᐧ hol ᐧ ic (noun) a person who compulsively works long and hard hours.

God, I hate the connotation of that word. And yet it still burns into my mind, distracting me from—unironically—the article I’m trying to finish up at my desk. Am I three months ahead of the current deadline? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean anything. There’s nothing wrong with having backups just in case. It shouldn’t classify me as a workaholic.

Because I’m not.

It’s only haunting me because my brain has a sick and twisted sense of humor. It clearly refuses to follow my strict list of off-limit thoughts, cementing the chokehold the word has on my life.

Ugh. Why am I letting this bother me anyway? I’m Hermione Granger, a capable, independent woman who is perfectly happy with her life right now. A twenty eight-year-old with a house of her own, a career she’s passionate about, and the five best friends a girl could ask for thanks to fate bringing us together during freshman orientation at Kearney University. The memory brings a smile to my lips. What more could one want?

And then the frown returns when I remember that I’m sitting alone in the office on a Friday evening and self-doubt trickles in. If I’m being honest, there’s a lot more I want. Like love. Finding the love of my life would be nice. I thought I’d at least be married by now, and maybe have one kid by the time I turned thirty. Not that I’m a traditional woman by any means. I’m about as modern as they come. It’s just…

No. You’re not allowed to think about him, remember?

Except it’s really hard not to think about him. Especially when that damn word keeps flashing in my mind while I sit here on weekend time, finishing an article that’s nowhere near due. But it doesn’t matter. That inside joke died a long time ago. I stopped finding the word endearing the moment I realized he was no longer in my life. Now if only my brain would get the memo.

I shake my head, brunette curls flying around as I try to refocus on the cursor blinking in front of me. It’s still a tough pill to swallow, but I’ve long since given up on love—or so I’m telling myself. Romantic companionship clearly isn’t in the cards for me, so I turn to the one thing that will never let me down: writing. And right now, I’m only a couple of paragraphs away from completing a lovely little piece on the hidden gems of Bora Bora—the things they won’t tell you in the travel guides.

A long, deep breath helps me push those intrusive thoughts away and brings me back to the salty ocean air and the calm lapping of the waves. If I concentrate long enough, I can feel the sparkling white sand between my toes, and it’s enough to catapult me right back into the article—until my phone rings two minutes later.

I don’t want to answer, but it’s Hannah Abbott, my best friend, and she’s always there for me when I need her. The least I can do is return the favor. Plus, the creative juices are no longer flowing thanks to the interruption, so I may as well see what she wants.

With a swipe right to answer, I do my best not to sound annoyed. “Hello?”

“Where are you?!” Hannah cries, though her voice sounds hushed, like she’s hiding in a closet or something.

“Finishing up an article at work. Why?”

“Unbelievable,” she grumbles, more to herself than to me. “Hermione, I’m going to let you think about why I’m calling for a second and see if you can put the pieces together.”

“What are you talking about?” I’m not in the mood to play this game, but I adjust the phone and hold it against my shoulder so I can lift my laptop and check my desk calendar.

August first. Friday. The day I try to forget. But then I see the periwinkle writing at the bottom of the square. Harry and Neville’s birthday party.

Remember the strong support system I mentioned earlier? The freshman orientation group turned lifelong friends? Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom are part of that, along with Hannah, of course, and Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown. We never miss anyone’s birthdays, and Hannah knows that.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! How could I forget?”

Hannah sniggers at me. “Yes, how could you forget? Hermione, I don’t know if it’s because you love your job so much that you’re willing to stay late on a Friday, or because of what day it is, but—”

“We’re not talking about that. I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

I slam my laptop shut and shove it in my bag a little too haphazardly. I’m already closing my office door by the time Hannah responds again. “Right…”

She’s clearly contemplating whether to push the subject or let it go. After all, she’ll have all night to try and grill me on it, but she knows better. We don’t talk about what happened on August first. Ever.

And just to make sure she doesn’t go there, I try to swing the conversation back to the guys. “Have they noticed I’m not there yet?”

“Well, considering it’s a small gathering of our closest friends—all of whom are already here because the party started an hour ago—yeah, they’ve noticed.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

“—Got caught up with whatever article you’re working on? I know, I know. You’re lucky it’s only their twenty-eighth birthday and not the big three-oh.”

“Come on, Han, this is one tiny mistake and I feel terrible. You don’t need to make it worse. I’m never late, you know that! And I would never miss something as big as their thirtieth birthdays. Especially not since we’ve already got a running list of themes and ideas going. Just—give me a break, okay? I’ll be there soon. I’m almost to the car now.”

“Alright.” Hannah sighs. There’s a stilted pause and I wait, knowing there’s something else she wants to say, and I brace for the lecture about my workaholic tendencies and what it relates to. Damn psychology major.

“Listen, Hermione, there’s something you should—” But after a long day of reflecting on it, I don’t want to go there right now.

“See you in fifteen, bye!” I hang up the phone before she can finish her sentence. She tries this every year. You’d think after six years she’d let it go. But no, she thinks that one of these days I’ll finally talk about it. Well, she can keep trying, but it’s not going to happen. That part of my life is over and it’ll only hurt more to bring it back up.

⚭

It takes me a little longer than fifteen minutes, but that’s to be expected with D.C. traffic. Once I’m parked outside Hannah and Neville’s house, I quickly do a once-over on my appearance. Thanks to the mid-summer humidity, my hair is frizzier than when I tamed it into its half-ponytail this morning. It’s too bad my incessant need to run my fingers through the curly strands does nothing to combat its flyaway tendency. I guess I’ll just have to deal with yet another pitch from Lavender to let her help me with my nonexistent beauty regimen. Perks of having a beautician for a friend.

Prying my eyes away from the visor mirror, I get out of the car and look down at the pale yellow eyelet sundress I put on this morning. There are definite wrinkles and creases from sitting at my desk all day, but what can I do? At least my mascara isn’t running down my face and I don’t have sweat stains under my arms. That’s more than presentable for a backyard barbeque after working all day. Kudos to whoever chose that over some fancy dinner.

Not that my friends would care. They’ve always accepted me for who I am. Sure, I’ll never hear the end of being late tonight, but at least I made it, and in their company, I’ll be able to accomplish the one thing I’ve struggled with all day: taking my mind off of him.

Faint sounds of laughter echo as I walk up the path to the front door and let myself in. A ‘happy birthday’ sign hangs from the ceiling in the foyer, and red and gold balloons litter the floor leading to the kitchen. Of course they’d deck out the place with the colors of our alma mater—I wouldn’t expect anything less.

“Hey, I’m here! And sorry I’m late, you know how work is,” I call to a seemingly empty house.

I poke my head into an empty living room before heading back to the kitchen, where I find Seamus pulling a beer out of the fridge. Everyone else must be out back.

“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up.”

And so it begins.

Rolling my eyes, I grab a wedge of gouda off the picked over charcuterie board on the counter. “You say that like I intended to show up almost two hours late. I lost track of time.”

That was sort of the truth. After all, I couldn’t tell Seamus I forgot, he’d never let me live it down. Seamus is usually the one who gets called out on things. His affinity for pyrotechnics has created many occasions for us to give him hell, and you can guarantee between the five of us, we never let him live a single one down. So I guess I can’t blame him when he doesn’t miss a beat now the tables are turned.

Which is why I’m not surprised he isn’t letting me off the hook yet. With a snort, he tries to call my bluff. “C’mon, Hermione. We all know you love working so much that you’d skip out on weekends if you could. You don’t have to lie.” And then, to make things weirder, he looks around and lowers his voice to add, “You can tell me the truth about why you’re late. It’ll be our little secret.”

My face scrunches up before I have a chance to control its reaction. Why does he care so much?

“I…I don’t know what you mean. I really did lose track of time, Shay. Why are you acting so strange?”

A scowl crosses his face as he sets his beer down on the white speckled quartz. He eyes the back deck before lowering his voice and says, “Because I’ve got a bet going with Lav and Nev on whether you were going to show or not.”

“Whether I was going to—why wouldn’t I show? Honestly, it’s not my fault I got wrapped up in research and writing an article all day and then forgot I had plans tonight! Do you guys bet on my predisposition to get lost in my job and failure to show up to events often?”

I’m so bewildered by the fact that there’s a bet that I don’t even care about letting my forgetfulness slip. Do I need to reconsider how genuine these friendships are? Does this happen often? Are my friends not as supportive as I thought they were?

I open my mouth to ask as much, but clamp it shut when I see the wide-eyed, pale shock cross Seamus’s face. His reaction is far more severe than it should be and now I’m really confused. He spins around and opens the fridge, rummaging around until he pulls out a mango White Claw—my favorite.

Things are getting more suspicious by the second, and I need to know what is going on. “Seamus, what—”

“Here.” He opens the can with a loud crack and hands it to me. “You’re going to need this.”

Oh, come on. “Seriously? You know I don’t care if I’m already three drinks behind.”

“Well, you might this time…” he mumbles before nodding to the door. “Come on, everyone’s out back. I’m sure they’ll be excited to know you finally made it.”

Okay, what is happening? I try not to let my jaw drop as my mind works to decode this odd behavior. Seamus has always been the one with the crazy ideas and adventurous spirit. There’s not a cryptic bone in his body. If anything, he’s always impulsive and up-front with his intentions.

All I can do is shake my head and follow, giving up on trying to make sense of anything. I take a few quick swigs and step through the sliding glass door that Seamus left open for me. Lively conversation comes from my left, where everyone is sitting around the patio table. I prepare myself for more endless teasing as I shut the door behind me, but instead, the chatter dies to a sudden silence. More peculiarity.

Did I spill something on myself and miss it? No, Seamus would have said something. Or are they really just that shocked about my late arrival? I’m about to ask as much until I look up and see an all too familiar shade of red hair sitting at the table with his back toward me.

Despite the eighty-degree weather, my body breaks into a cold sweat. I’ve spent six years pretending he doesn’t exist anymore. Six years trying to forget that part of my life, convincing myself that he wasn’t the person I thought he was. That he wasn’t ‘the one.’

Everyone else’s expressions mirror my shock when they realize I didn’t know he was going to be here, though Hannah’s contains a tiny wince that’s meant to say, ‘I tried to warn you.’ And their reactions are enough to make Ron Weasley, my ex-best friend, ex-confidante, and ex-lover, turn around.

Seeing his face unfreezes my body from its current awkward stance. Anger and hurt burst through the gates that I’ve worked so hard to keep locked up as our eyes meet. In slow motion, my hard seltzer clatters to the ground, soaking my feet and wedge leather sandals in the sticky, bubbly liquid as I try to find my voice.

As if this paradox couldn’t become any more ironic, he actually seems excited to see me. He opens his mouth to say something, but I’ll never know what since I manage to cut him off with the only scathing question that I can possibly think of.

“What are you doing here?”

#romione #hermione granger #ron weasley #hp fanfic #american au #alternate universe

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stobinesque · 10 months

Text

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @eriquin and @steves-strapcollection, thank you!!

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

THE WIPS

Jeff is Steve's Bi Awakening AU (fwiw I already have two of these sitting in my inbox from a couple weeks ago)

wigwag [Steve's Big Gay Sex Adventure]

Wayfinder [S4 Fix-it, Lucas POV]

phryctoria bonus chapter 7 (marginalia and annotations of How To Have Sex in an Epidemic)

THE (no pressure) TAGS

@devondespresso @starryeyedjanai @xenon-demon @inairbinad @hellsfireclub @delta-piscium @steddielations @thefreakandthehair @skjachukson @steventhusiast -- and anyone else who wants to participate!

THE SNIPPET

uhhhh, I'm pretty sure most of the writing I've done in the past 7 days has already been shared in various asks (or my steddie microfic), so have a sneak peek at chapter 5 of phryctoria, which I spent a good chunk of today revising.

Robin yawns again, stretching her arms high above her head. “Absolutely worth it,” she says, sounding a bit smug.

Steve shakes his head, but can’t bite back the smile she brings to his face. He clicks back into a conscious awareness of their surroundings, and realizes they’re passing by Weathertop. (Try as he might to deny it, the kids’ names for locations around Hawkins have fixed themselves in his mind.) He pulls off and parks the beamer on the side of the road, circling around the front to pull Robin out of the passenger seat. “C’mon, Bobbin, we’ve got a hill to climb.”

Halfway up, Robin turns to him and starts flapping a hand against his chest. “Hey, hey! How’s that song go? The hills are alive, dah-da-dah daaah dah, you know?”

Steve smirks. “Aren’t your ears supposed to be little geniuses? Robs, the next lines are literally the title of the movie.”

“Pretty sure it was a musical first.”

“This does not actually help your case, you know that, right?”

“Whatever, dingus. Just tell me how the song goes.”

“You sure you wanna hear me sing?”

“Okay, you’ll notice how I didn’t say ‘sing how it goes for me,’ you could just tell me the words.”

“No, no, now you’re going to be subjected to the musical stylings of the Harrington family singers, because,” Steve leans into her space and starts singing, sickly sweet, “My heart wants to sing every soooong it hears.” His head is almost fully resting against Robin’s shoulder as he looks up at her with a shit eating grin.

“Oh, my god, get off me,” she says, shoving at him while she laughs.

He lets himself be pushed away, taking a couple of dramatic, stumbling steps away from her before righting himself and drifting back into her space. “You know the next lines have always been my favorite though?”

“Do you have the whole song memorized?!”

“...yeah?” Steve frowns at her. “Robs, it’s one of my favorite movies! I thought that’s why you asked!”

Robin shakes her head, looking at him a little dumbstruck. “Nope, I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that little Harrington factoid.”

“Well…yeah. My mom really loved it, so I guess I just watched it a lot growing up? Especially when my dad was out of town—before she started going on the trips with him—because then we could sing along.”

Robin opens her mouth to say something, before seeming to make the conscious decision not to approach the whole ‘you couldn’t sing along to the movie about not being allowed to sing?’ thing with a ten foot pole, and snapping her mouth shut again. “Huh.” She takes a couple more striding steps forward with a pensive look on her face. “So...how does the next part go?”

He smiles at her, and even without being able to see his own face he can tell that it’s radiant. “My heart…wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees.” He looks at her, and he can feel the way his gaze has become just a little too intense.

“Birds, huh?” She knocks his shoulder with her own, a gentle smile on her face. “Yep. Always loved ‘em,” he says, his heart feeling a little gooey in his chest.

#wip wednesday #read writes #phryctoria #i maybe listened to the whole sound of music soundtrack on repeat yesterday

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frenchfrywrites · 1 year

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Dude I had a thought about Leona and it somehow merged and I had the same thought but with Mammon so just bear with me while I explain it

So imagine you and Leona normally hang out in the Savanaclaw dorm because he says it’s too much effort to go else where. But whenever you two wanna have sex you go to Ramshackle cause there’s normally less people and less chance of someone overhearing. So I was thinking about how hot it would be if you made it a rule that while he’s at Ramshackle he isn’t allowed to use the bathroom and if he has to pee he has to squat down on a puppy pad and use it like the cute little pet he is. I think he’d probably scoff and be like “whatever that just means I don’t have to move as far to use the bathroom” but when the time comes for him to actually use it he’s trying SO HARD to not pop a boner. You tell him to kneel down and piss like a proper kitty and maybe you’ll even rub his ears and run your fingers through his hair while he goes. I think he’d make soft little noises and nuzzle into your stomach to hide his embarrassed face because fuck it feels so good to pee like this FOR you

And then I thought you could do the same thing with Mammon but instead it would be something like he’s not allowed to leave your room to go to the bathroom he has to use the puppy pad. I think the first time you bring it up he’d be embarrassed and squirmy and trying to act like he’s not THAT into it even though he’s already tenting his pants. Mix in some heavy praise while he settles himself on the pad and he’d be in subspace SO FAST. Tell him he’s a good little puppy for learning so fast. He’s your smart doggy for peeing on his puppy pad and he definitely deserves a treat for it.

AHH so sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a bit! I wanted to respond right away bc your ask made me SO excited!!! But I have trouble answering asks sometimes :(

ANYWAYS! 🤤🥵 You have presented me with an absolute delight of an ask, thank u thank you!! I'm absolutely losing my mind imagining Leona using a pee pad. I def think he'd be a bit bitchy or pissy (pun intended) at first, bc he isn't an animal! Despite that, hearing you tell him to piss like a proper kitty makes his legs shake and his dick throb. He's so, so much more turned on than he acts- and he thinks he's containing his arousal and excitement (when he's TOTALLY not).

And of course, I always adore thinking abt Mammon using a pee pad! He'd also pretend that he's not as into it as he really is (and like Leona he can't hide it well). However part of me wonders if he'd be embarrassed at all. Part of me thinks he'd be completely shameless and is tripping out of his clothes the second he has to pee. Anyways, I think he goes nonverbal by the time he's on his knees for you, looking up at you and whining with big desperate eyes (he's waiting for permission to let go).

Can I add... imagine Leona and Mammon using a puppy pad together? Personally I love thinking about two tsundere pets that are ready and eager to pee for you <3

#let me tell u when i got this ask i was going insane!!#whew #p/iss #thirst #spice #french fry replies #obey twst

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