#flitter flutter

[hermajestyladybird08]

Mayor Flitter Flutter, in her prime

[nextgenfoals]

Mayor Flitter Flutter from twinkle wish and Petunia Petals (g4)

Rosy Maple is an entomologist! She’ll talk your ears off about all the cool insects she finds. Honestly, she’ll talk to you about anything- she loves having company!

~ Mod Ace ♥️

[pollie-pockets]

Windy wing pony transparents

[charmsponies]

[llama-aesthetics]

Plum Flitter Flutter 🦋

Sewn Date: June 26 (Cancer ♋)

Sewn From: Butterfly Kite

Insect Week / Pollinator Week

Third Year

Insect Club

Roommate: Royal T. Honey Stripes

[mlp-toy-archive]

Gen 1 Summerwing Ponies

Little Flitter & Lady Flutter

1987, Winger Ponies, Year 6

[tellie-vision-art]

[ Peacekeepers DnD ]

[ Flutter, Treesy, Flitter, Sunny, Daisy, Torch, Rosie ]

The Bunny family from my campaign 😩 Harengon, but part vampire bc of Flutter being bit and turned at some point in her life

[taintandviolent]

be my woman, girl ; Remmick x reader

summary: As a lonely woman whose prayers are going unanswered, you prayed for something to take away your hurt. This time, something answers.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.6K | female reader, vampires, brief religious themes (praying, mention of God), spit kink, spit as a major aphrodisiac, dub-con if you tilt your head and look at it the right way, vampire sex, monsterfucking, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, biting, blood mention, blood drinking and loss, I guess it's implied virgin!reader (though it isn't focused on).

a/n: just a quick lil somethin' somethin', but it is HEAVILY inspired by Nosferatu, and the vibe of this song. sorry that - spoiler alert - the vampire bites reader in every fic I write about them, I literally cannot stop myself from doing it. not beta-read, as per usual. dividers by @/v6que and @/adornedwithlight! PS: Thank you so much for all the love on my previous Remmick fic, you guys are such darlings!

↓ fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

The house is quiet aside from the occassional creak or whine; wood panels shift against each other, moaning low like your grandparents as they sat in a chair. Houses breathed every now and then — never scared you any.

Unlike everyone else, you're wide awake. Though your room is dark, the dreams haven't come for you. Pale, blue moonlight washes your features as you stand in front of the window, looking out into the front yard. There's nothing, no one.

That's just it… no one.

Your head hangs heavy, burdened by the aching, stinging loneliness that you felt.

No one for you, ever.

Hell, even your sister had found someone this past spring. Everyone always said you'd get married first 'cause you were the pretty one of the two. But you hadn't. Men didn't flirt with you, they just passed you by, as casual as can be. People shushed your worries by saying that God works in mysterious ways, when the time is right, can't rush love, and so on. None of those trivial phrases helped you any, you were still alone at the close of every night. So you'd pray. Just like you did every night. You looked up into that sky and prayed your heart out, prayed until you were blue in the face.

You thumb the latch to unlock it and with a small vocalization, push the window up. The sheer curtains flutter delicately, like ghosts in the breeze. The night air floods in, bathing your face and neck in it and you sink softly to your knees, resting your elbows on the wood of the sill. Your hands are clasped tightly together — as tight as you can — and you press your fists against your mouth for a moment as the tears well up in your eyes.

"Please," you beg, speaking against your own fingers. "I am so lonely. I can't bear it any longer. My heart aches somethin' awful..."

You sniff, and lift your eyes to the moon in all her luminous glory, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. "If there's anyone out there… take away my sufferin', take away my pain. I am beggin' you."

You hold your breath, waiting. You're acutely aware of all the sounds; a breeze flutters through the tall grasses and the old trees on your daddy's property, the branches creak loudly against each other, a twig snaps somewhere in the distance. Pricks of light flitter across the forest. An animal, probably. You see them every night.

"Please, come to me." Spoken through tears and snot. "I'm beggin'."

Still shrouded in the shadows of the forest, two of the pinpricks of light stop in the foot-trodden pathway to your front door. You clumsily wipe your tears away with the back of your hand and lean forward out of the window, trying to focus on the fuzzy darkness. They look like eyes, of a coyote or something similar, but you didn't notice until now that the figure seems taller than that, on account of where the eyes are.

You blink.

They blink back before they grow closer, carried on upright steps.

You gasp. Shocked by your own noise, your hand flies to your mouth as though it'll muffle the breathing. You duck back inside the window and fall backwards, catching yourself on your hands. There's a funny feeling roiling in your stomach, like a pit of wet snakes, slippin' and slidin' around in your gut.

From this angle, you can't see the reflective gaze anymore, but the curtains still flutter, seeming to whisper to you, calling your name in a tone that only you can hear. You scoot back, dragging your body along the floorboards until your back hits the bed post, and keeping your gaze locked on the window, you awkwardly crawl up into the bed, twisting your body in a way that doesn't disrupt your line of sight. You slither underneath the covers, pulling them up to your neck like a frightened child.

The window's still open… but you're too afraid to get up again, 'cause maybe those eyes would still be staring right at you. So, you nestle yourself deeper under the covers and stare at that window until your lids get heavy. Eventually, though you don't know how long it takes, you drift off to sleep.

The dreams start as soon as your body settles, as soon as your limp hand falls off the side of the bed, fingertips pointing towards the floor. A shadowed figure stands at the edge of your bed, his hand extended. His fingers are long, tipped by claws that reach out to you and cast terrifying shadows on your bedsheets. Those same reflective eyes stare down at you, watching you tremble. He moves closer, the shadows crawling up the length of your bed until they're pressed down against you. There's nothing on top of you but shadows, and yet, you can't move, pinned in place by some unseen force.

You awake with a heave, a strangled cry that dies in your throat as soon as you're upright. Beads of sweat decorate your chest, and ribbon down into the confines of your nightgown, disappearing into the fabric. Your room is dark and cool, but that does little to bring down the temperature of your feverish body.

Downstairs, you think. It felt natural, like you'd thought it. You throw the covers off your body, and tiptoe to your bedroom door, careful of each barefoot step. You bite your lip and with a gentle pull, you twist the knob and pull it open, praying it doesn't squeak. It doesn't.

You pad carefully down the steps, avoiding the one that creaks, and make your way to the front door. Again, the night air greets you like an old, forgotten friend and you inhale.

Those reflective eyes are staring right at you through the screen door. You can see 'em, clear as day. A moth flutters past your line of sight. As you turn on the porch light, your bare toes tease the edge of the threshold.

"What… what do you want?" Your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

You make a fist in your nightgown, digging your nails into the soft fabric. He takes another step and leaves the shadows behind, allowing the light to illuminate his handsome features. His head tilts slightly as he considers your question, and an assured smile crosses his face.

"Aww, darlin'. You. I'm here for you…" he says, sweet like honey.

His accent is heavy and Southern, but something hides underneath it. You grip your nightgown tighter, suppressing a shudder that threatens to rip through your core. Something about him makes you wanna' step forward into the night, into his arms, but you resist. You shake your head, dislodging the lustful thoughts that try to take root in your brain.

He looks you up and down a few times before clicking his tongue in a disapproving way. You look down at yourself; sweat-soaked and dissheveled, your hair probably a mess, eyes swollen with sleep… God knows what else this man saw. Smelled. Understood.

"You poor thing… Ain't you tired, baby? Tired of screamin' and cryin' for a God that don't listen?"

You were.

"You called," he drawls. "I came."

He did.

He shoulders the door frame, leaning against it, peering at you through the mesh screen. You take a step back, and shake your head again, like a child shaking off her bad dreams. He runs a single finger along the edge of the screen, sharp nail scraping across the mesh with a barely audible tick tick tick. You understand now.

Quickly, but quietly, you push the door shut with a flattened palm. Maybe you were still dreaming. There. All better. Because really… what kinda' prayer is answered in the middle of the night? You hurry back through the darkened house, up the stairs and back into your room. For a moment, you listen in the hallway for sounds of stirring.

Satisfied that everyone's still sleeping, you turn around, leaning your back into the door gently. As soon as your eyes focus again, your muscles tense up and go rigid like steel. You slap your hand over your mouth, muffling the yelp that claws its way up your throat. You reel back, pressing yourself tightly against the door, like you could melt back through it.

Your eyes scrape tenatively along the floorboards, crawling up the elongated shadow of a man until you get to the figure that owns it. That same man leans against your window in a casual, relaxed position.

Be brave, girl.

"How'd you get in here?" You hiss, looking back at your bedroom door. "I ain't said you could—"

He lifts up a single finger, waving it back and forth, effectively shushing you. "Ohhh, you sure did, darlin'."

Remmick clears his throat theatrically, and falls forward to his knees. All at once, his nonchalant expression contorts into one of pain, of longing, of desperation, as he crawls towards you, frowning. "Please come to me…" he mocks in a higher tone, clutching his hands at his chest. "I'm beggin'…"

The realization feels heavy, your jaw hanging slack as you hear him. The world seems to lose its color around you, the floor drags you down by the hem of your gown. You sink to the wood, your ass hitting it with a soft thud. I called him.

His hands drops away from his chest as he knee-walks closer to you, reaching out to sweep your hair away from your temple. "Don't you fret now, ain't no sense in that. Remmick's gonna' make that hurt go away."

Remmick? Was that his name? When you give a devil a name, does it make him less terrifying?

As Remmick crawls over your body, you flatten against the floor, trying to shrink yourself away from him. He throws one knee up and over your hips, pinning you in place with his own. The sensation is intoxicating, and you feel damp heat pool between your thighs. He smiles, savoring the look of you beneath him, soft and supple, pretty and vulnerable.

Somewhere, you were scared. That somewhere that was too far away because your cunt, hot and aching, betrays you, clenching deeply at the feeling of a man on top of you — his weight felt like a blessing, like the long-awaited answer to a prayer. You writhe out of instinct though, clinging to some pure ideal, one that makes the corner of Remmick's lip hitch up in a snarl like he's smelled something foul. His teeth glint in the moonlight, pricks of jagged white amongst the darkness of his mouth.

"Y'got whatcha' asked fer'… don't go and be ungrateful now."

Lightning fast, Remmick's hand lurches out, pinching the sides of your mouth, forcing it open. He holds it there, while his own mouth opens, a stream of thick saliva stretching from his tongue. As it descends, you want to convulse and rip your head away, but with a clawed grip, he holds your head in place. It hits your tongue, dripping towards your throat. A warmth, a comfort, settles over your body, like the rays of sun kissing your body on a summer day, or slipping into a warm bath on a cool night. It's an all-enveloping feeling and you shudder, relaxing into the floor. Your body is no longer rigid, no longer fighting against him. Your legs part, hitching your nightgown up around your thighs in the process.

All you can do is look up into his glowing eyes, watching as the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile. Your back arches against his touch, his thumb brushing over the plumpness of your bottom lip. He smears his own saliva across your mouth. Onto your cheek. You smile lazily, and he nods encouragingly. "That's a-girl…"

With a little maneuvering, he slots himself between your thighs and his hands come down on either side of your neck. You feel his proximity, and whimper, angling your hips upward to grind against a rigidness you know is there, and Remmick lurches forward, sealing his lips to your neck.

He sucks at the skin, sucks until the flesh reddens, until it aches. The ache is a dull one, and even though you ought to stop him, you don't. Your hands find the nape of his neck, fingers sliding up through his dark hair, pulling him closer. He draws one hand down to free himself, and yank your panties to the side. You're no longer lonely, no longer sad. Lust claims your senses, without a care in the world.

Two fingers prod your entrance and you hitch your leg higher, allowing him more room. He sinks them in, breaching her, his thumb bumping into your swollen clit. Satisfied, he exhales above you, enamoured with the way your body sings back to him. With no hesitation, Remmick curves them deep within your cunt a few times, sending stars across your vision. As soon as you moan against the shell of his ear, he withdraws them and you feel him line himself up, the thick, velvet head pressing against the slit.

He's met with no resistance from your eager body, so Remmick sheaths himself inside your slick, waiting walls in one thrust. At first, there's heat as his cock stretches you wide, but your cunt adjusts, hungrily clenching around the shaft. His body undulates against yours, pressing tightly against your sweet, womanly figure as he thrusts, driving himself as deep as he can.

For a good few minutes, there's nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin, feverish breaths and hushed moans. Remmick hums suddenly into your neck, pressing one tender kiss to the bruised flesh, reverently. He's still buried inside you, cock twitching with an impending release.

Breathily, he speaks as he strokes the side of your sweat-streaked face. "You asked fer' someone to take yer' sufferin' away and I'm gonna' do just that. I'm gonna' take away that hurt."

You whimper below him, a semblance of understanding of what's about to happen flashing across your darling features. "Shhh, this ain't gonna' sting but a second."

He leans in again, and you feel a flash of searing pain as fangs pierce your tender skin, drawing a gush of your sweet, cerise nectar out onto his tongue. Remmick groans at the coppery taste of your blood as it floods his mouth, and begins hungrily suckling at your neck, swallowing against the bleeding flesh. His hips find a new rhythm, and you feel your heartbeat pounding through your body — every inch of you seems to have a pulse — but he's right. It only hurts for a moment before you ease into the feeling, your body's natural defenses numbing the pain.

Now, the feeling drives you over the edge. Your vision darkens around the edges, throbbing between focused and blurry. You give a hard shiver as you spasm around his cock, coating him in slick arousal, and Remmick bucks his hips hard into your clenches, chasing his own release. With your hot blood clogging his throat, he asks of eternity, and you nod sleepily.

When he crashes down from that electric peak of pleasure, you feel dizzy. The sensation of being full claims you, wraps you up, and coddles you. Though, in your last moments, you can't mourn the loss of your precious life, you can't be sad… you'd asked for someone to take away your pain, your suffering, and for someone to come to you.

He'd heard you.

"Remmick," you say, drowsily.

He shushes you again with a clawed fingertip. You hear the dull thud of knuckles against a door. Your head lolls to the side, and Remmick straightens it out, leaving crimson fingerprints on your cheek before his weight leaves you.

The last thought you have is daddy, don't open that door.

But he does anyway.

Remmick is there to meet him.

[anantaru]

— comforting you on a bad day

including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader

genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort

— scaramouche

scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.

easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.

scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.

he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.

however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.

hopefully you do.

"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?

troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.

his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.

scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.

you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.

for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.

the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.

scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.

"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."

you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.

strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.

"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."

— wriothesley

you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.

you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.

as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.

as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.

in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.

yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.

"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.

wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.

"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.

— alhaitham

alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.

instead, he just listens to you.

you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.

he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.

"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.

although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.

his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood. 

"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"

shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.

— childe

childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.

it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.

naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.

you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.

for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.

the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.

he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.

it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.

"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.

your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.

childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"

"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.

it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.

ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[cute-sucker]

you loved the bunnies. 

as they huddled together, their little bodies on top of each other. their cage was bombarded with bunnies who scampered on one other, sniffing and squeaking sometimes. 

you loved it. they were so cute and fluffy, and could barely handle yourself, as you hung onto rafe's hand, begging him to take you to the bunnies. it was your friend's party, and for one of the parts, they brought tiny bunnies who you could play with. 

after all, rafe had brought them up. 

"y'know there's a party tomorrow," rafe murmured, tucking his credit card in his pocket, you flittered next to him rolling your eyes, your pretty manicured hand travelling up his chest. 

"don't wanna go," you whispered, sitting on your shared bed. at this rafe gave you a firm look, before laying down next to you. to be honest, although you were fully a kook, you hated going to those stuffy parties.

it was only another chance for people to make fun of you, or bother you about marrying rafe. your big ring was there to remind people that there was one of many reasons they should be nice to you. at least that's how rafe put it when he found you crying after being bullied at the party. 

so that was how you felt, yet you watched rafe pursed his lips, "i think it would be nice to have my wife at my side." 

you laughed at this, liking the way he referred to you as his wife, "c'mon that's not fair. you can't call me that. i'm your fiancé," you murmured, getting on your tip toes to kiss rafe on the nose. your nightgown was basically see through, as you swayed closer to him. 

he groaned, before pulling you in, "c'mon kid, you know you can't tease me like that," and pulled you in for a real kiss. 

you loved giving rafe kisses, and you especially liked it when he was nice to you. there was a way that his eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, and his hands got real soft and close to your chest. it felt like summertime when he kissed you. sweet times, like a mango ice cream dripping down your lips. 

suckled honey, or even better wishes that came true. 

finally, he let go of you, and you felt dazed still gasping as you nuzzled into his chest. 

"there's bunnies at the party," he murmured into your skin. 

so there you were cooing at the bunnies as rafe was broodingly staring at you. it was a small cycle, and quickly enough you called him over. he looked close to rolling his eyes. 

"this is what you've abandoned me for?" rafe mused, pointing at the little bunnies cuddling each other. you nodded a bright smile of your face, your hands cupping your face. in all honestly, you wanted him closer, to feel his warmth but this was an excuse to get him close and not for him to expect it. 

"i really want to hold one," you whispered in his ear, and at this he looked at you with an amused expression. the little bunnies seemed to jump in joy, fuzzy and full of happiness. but this was rafe, he wouldn't give you anything you wanted if you didn't let him know. he liked it when you were explicitly clear. 

you sighed, "do you want me to spell it out? can you get one for me?" you huffed before pointing at one of them. rafe raised an eyebrow, his hand skimming over your chin. 

"you sound bratty to me," he quipped, keen eyes watching your expression change as you seemed to soften at his remark. "what do we say?" 

"please," you whined out softly. 

he scoffed before cupping your face, as you felt yourself flush, "fine sweets. i'll get you your little bunny." as calm as ever, rafe scooted down to pick up a bunny. he was so gentle, his rough arms skimming over their fur, before cooing to it. you felt jealous almost, he was more gentle with the bunny than he was with you. 

 yet, you were entrapped by his softness, as you watched his face relax. "y' gotta be nice, alright," he whispered, before letting drag your hand on the bunny's fur. the bunny rested in his arms, sleepy eyes peering up at him. 

as rafe cradled the bunny in his arms, you couldn't help but admire the gentle way he handled the little creature. his hands, which were often rough from work and training, now moved with such delicacy, as if he was afraid of disturbing the bunny's peace. it was a side of him that you cherished, the tenderness that he reserved for moments like these.

"you're a natural with them," you whispered out, watching as the bunny nestled closer to rafe's chest, seemingly content in his embrace.

he glanced up at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. you wanted to grab him and kiss him, "you're too sweet bun." 

you flushed, before reaching out to run your fingers over the bunny's soft fur, feeling the warmth radiating from its tiny body. it was such a simple pleasure, yet it filled you with a sense of warmth and happiness.

"thank you for getting it for me," you said, looking up at rafe with a grateful smile, your wide eyes full of softness.

his expression softened even further, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your heart flutter. "anything for you, sweetheart," he replied, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

[youreverydayfangirl]

DRESS

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she admits her feelings, he buys her dinner and they talk about the future

warning: nothing

a/n: hey guyssss

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 20 others

y/nsprivate this dress

jimmyandsassysdad this dress>>>

-> y/nsprivate 🤭

alexandrasaintmleux TOLD YOU HE'D LIKE IT

-> y/nsprivate yes he did

leosfather please refrain from posting stuff like this on the internet

-> y/nsprivate NO

-> leosfather 😱😱

itssabrinaaa YUMM YUMMM

-> y/nsprivate ❤️

-----

The evening air was cool as Y/n stepped out of the bathroom, the soft glow of the bathroom light spilling into the Max's dimly lit bedroom. As she emerged, she noticed the way Max was standing by the window, a slight frown creasing his brow as he checked his watch. He wore a fitted blazer over a crisp white shirt. As soon as he turned around to look at her, his expression shifted, his mouth falling open slightly in surprise.

“Y/n…” he breathed, momentarily speechless.

“You look incredible,” he finally managed, shaking his head in disbelief. A wide smile spread across his face, lighting up his green eyes. “Like, wow.”

As they stepped out of the hotel, the city buzzed with energy around them. They made their way to the theater, where Max had organized tickets to see a ballet. Max kept glancing at Y/n when he thought she wasn’t looking.

As they sat down in their seats in their private booth, took a longer second to admire his girlfriend. Y/n felt a flutter of excitement flitter in her stomach as the curtains rose, a bright smile adorning her face.

About halfway through the ballet, Y/n felt a large hand grip her thigh possessively as max pulled the girl as close to him as possible in their individual seats.

As they walked to the restaurant for their private dinner, Max wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The warmth of his body against hers sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach, the intimacy of the moment making her heart race.

When they arrived at the restaurant, a cozy, upscale spot with low lighting and a romantic ambiance, Max led her to a private booth tucked away from the main dining area.

As their dinner continued, the conversation took on a deeper tone, with laughter slowly giving way to a more intimate atmosphere. Max leaned closer, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes fixed on Y/n with an intensity that made her heart race.

“You know,” he began, a playful grin still lingering on his lips, “I’ve been thinking a lot since that night I told you I loved you.” He paused, searching her face for a reaction. “I meant it, Y/n. You really do mean a lot to me.”

Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat. The memory of that night flooded back—the way she had frozen, the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed her. She had spent weeks grappling with her feelings, but now, sitting across from him, surrounded by candlelight and the soft murmur of other diners, everything felt clearer.

“Max…” she started, her voice trembling slightly. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’ve been thinking, too.”

His gaze sharpened, a flicker of hope crossing his features. “Yeah?”

“I was scared after everything that happened with Lando,” she admitted, her heart racing. “I didn’t know how to handle my feelings for you, and I panicked.” She looked down at her hands, fidgeting nervously. “But the truth is, I love you, too.”

The confession hung in the air, the weight of it settling between them. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of how he felt.

Max’s expression shifted, surprise giving way to a radiant smile that lit up his face. “You mean it?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice, as if he wanted to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“I do,” she said, her own smile breaking through her nervousness. “You’ve shown me a side of love that I thought I couldn’t feel again. With you, I feel safe, and I want to embrace that.”

Max reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Y/n, that means everything to me. I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words.” His thumb brushed against her knuckles, sending a shiver of warmth through her.

“I’m sorry I took so long to say it,” she continued, her voice softening. “I was just scared. But you’ve been patient and understanding, and I appreciate that more than you know.”

“Hey,” he said, his tone earnest. “I would wait forever for you. I just want to make you happy.”

Y/n’s heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around her like a warm embrace. “You already do,” she replied, her eyes glistening with emotion.

He leaned over to cup her face, stroking her cheek softly before planting his lips against hers. Y/n had kissed Max many times, but never like this. There was so much passion mixed with pent up frustration that had been building between them. Each movement felt electric, as if the world around them had faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own universe.

As he pulled away, his breath mingling with hers, Max leaned in closer, whispering in her ear, “You look so good tonight, liefde.” The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine, and she could feel her cheeks flush under his gaze.

“Yeah?” she questioned, unable to hide her smile.

He hummed in response, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s get out of here then.”

--------------------------------

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 20 others

y/nsprivate he took my on his yacht 😳

thatoneartgirlalex GET THAT RICH D

-> y/nsprivate maybe try to control yourself (BET)

keekslikestospammmm a HUGE upgrade tbh

-> y/nsprivate STOPPP

keekslikestospammmm wow i get pierre and charles erasure but we were their too 😒

-> y/nsprivate IM SORRY BUT YOU GOTTA DO WHAT YOU GOTTA DO

livbereallydumb if your happy im happy

-> y/nsprivate really happy tbh

jimmyandsassysdad hes a really luck man

-> y/nsprivate stop your too cute

-> jimmyandsassysdad one of us has the good looks in this relationship and its not me ;)

----------------------------

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the calm waters as the yacht gently swayed with the waves. Y/n leaned against the railing, a soft breeze tousling her hair as she took in the breathtaking view. The sound of laughter echoed behind her, where Max was playfully arguing with Pierre about whose turn it was to pick the music. Y/n smiled happily, closing her eyes to breath in the smell of salt.

Max sauntered over, a wide grin on his face as he held two glasses of sparkling water, handing one to her. “Thought you might need a refresher,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve been staring out at the sunset for too long.”

Y/n laughed, taking a sip. “Just taking it all in. It’s beautiful here.”

“It is,” he agreed, leaning beside her, his shoulder brushing against hers. “But it’s even better with you.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she turned to meet his gaze. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He paused, taking a deep breath, his expression shifting slightly. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Y/n felt a rush of curiosity and anxiety. “What is it?”

Max shifted his weight, a more serious look crossing his face. “I know things have been moving fast between us, but I can’t help but think about how much I want you in my life. Not just for the moment, but for the long haul.” He paused, gauging her reaction. “I want you to move in with me.”

The words hung in the air, and Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat. “Move in with you?” she echoed, her heart racing.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “I know it sounds sudden, but I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I want to wake up next to you every day and share those little moments together.”

“Max, that’s a big step,” she said softly, searching his eyes for reassurance. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Y/n,” he said, his tone earnest. “I’m not saying it will be perfect. But I believe in us. I want to face the ups and downs together, not apart. I can’t promise it’ll always be easy, but I want to try.”

Her heart swelled at his sincerity. She could see the hope in his eyes, the genuine desire for a future together. “I want that too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m scared.”

“I get that,�� Max said, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers. “But think about it this way: moving in together means we’re building something, creating a space that’s just ours. I want to be there for you, to support you in every way I can.”

Y/n took a moment to process his words, a warmth spreading through her as she realized how much she wanted this too. “Okay,” she finally said, a smile breaking across her face. “Let’s do it.”

----------------------

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 28 others

y/nsprivate move in day ft a new addition to our family ❤️

jimmyandsassysdad 🖤🖤🖤

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭

thatoneartgirlalex MY LITTLE BABIES ALL GROWN UP

-> y/nsprivate atleast now we live like two streets apart 🤭

itssabrinaaaa PLUTO OMG SHES SO CUTE

-> y/nsprivate MY BABY

leosfather hes alright i guess

-> y/nsprivate stop pretending your not inlove with him charlie

ExBsf the copycat?

Drama has come during the off season when fans have noticed some similarities between Exbsf and Lando Norris ex girlfriend Y/n L/n. L/N and Norris broke up after a phone call between Exbsf and L/n was leaked and it was confessed that L/n cheated on her partner.

CLICK HERE TO READ MORE

comments:

user1 FINALLY! shes been so shady omg

user2 nah thats like fully copying not just 'similarities'

user3 but like now that this is out can we talk about how weird the timing of everything has been

-> user4 real cause an alleged phone call between exbsf and y/n was leaked and then she gets with lando like two weeks later. like what?

user5 honestly exbsf is giving the snake in this situation

-----------------------------

guys im actually dying atm im so sick

im trying to stick to the schedule but idk at this poinnttt

@lyannesworld

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[moonchild9350]

Firefly

summary: what seems like an ordinary night catching fireflies turns out to be the surprise of a lifetime

pairing: Felix x gn!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive-18+MDNI

wc: 1.0k

warnings: teasing, implied fingering, mentions of pregnancy, felix is a firefly shifter lol

notes: it's summer and the fireflies are out (which I love) and felix would be a firefly if he could cause he's such a light in my world. so this was born lol. hope you enjoy-if so let me know by reblogging and commenting!

please do not copy, translate, modify, or use elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2025)

masterlist

“Gotcha!”

You close the jar around the miniature bug, your eyes sparkling as its wing light up a soft green as it flitters around the space. It’s a warm, summer night with a soft breeze that whips your hair around your face and cools you off. Hundreds of little fireflies litter your yard, their glow lighting up the night sky and causing it to look like a magical fairy land.

Setting down the occupied jar, you search the skies for a firefly in particular. However, after a while, you shake your head and tsk.

“As if I could find him amongst all the others,” you say aloud. You sit down in the chair behind you and sigh, placing your chin in your palms. Your eyes focus straight ahead, trying to convince yourself that you’ll recognize him.

Minutes later, you hear a flutter by your ear and you sit up straight, searching to your left and right for the disturbance. You have no luck that is until you hear the buzz again and a firefly glows brightly in front of you. Smiling, you stand up and clap your hands giddily and watch as the glowing wonder shifts into a human….your human precisely.

“Felix! You’re back!” You exclaim and you run forward to wrap your arms tightly around the blue haired man.

He chuckles and embraces you, burying his face in your hair. “Of course I came back darling. Why would I not?”

You plant your face into his chest and breathe deeply, savoring the scent he gives off, something akin to vanilla with a hint of grass. Relaxing in his hold, you let out all of your fears and smile as you begin to nuzzle against him.

“M’don’t know,” you mumble as you clutch onto him tighter.

Felix disentangles himself so he can take a look at you properly. You stare up into his dark brown eyes, catching the sparkle that’s there in the moonlight. You can make out each freckle that litters his face and his angel lips that you love to taste, to feel until all you see, all you know is him.

He brushes the hair out of your face and gives you a soft glance, “Have you been eating properly?”

You chuckle at his concern and simply nod. Felix cares deeply for you and he worries for your well being, but then again, he has every reason to. You both stand there for a moment more in silence until Felix looks behind him at his comrades still flittering around.

“Shall we catch a few more? I feel bad for interrupting you earlier,” he says as he walks up to the jar with the previous firefly you caught. He picks it up gently in his hand and gazes at the creature, almost as if he were talking to it.

You eagerly run up to him and grab another jar, ready to catch a few more before turning in. Felix joins in and before you know it, the night air fills with your laughter as you run around, attempting to catch the glowing dots that appear in front of you. Felix follows along and tries to distract you (and of course he’s successful) and by the time you tire out, you’ve only caught two more.

“Aw, I didn’t catch as many as I wanted,” you whine and turning your back on your lover you cross your arms to pout.

Felix shuffles up to you and wraps his arms around your middle, gently pulling you to him. “Don’t be mad darling, I’ll make it up to you yeah?”

You reply with a ‘hmmpt’ trying to keep your resolve. Keeping your gaze straight ahead, you decide to give Felix the silent treatment, that is until you feel his lips on your neck, presses gentle kisses along your skin. Your breath catches and you swallow, tightening your arms around you.

Slowly, you feel him drag his lips upwards until he reaches that spot behind your ear that makes your belly flutter and your panties to become soaking wet. His hands drift lower and lower, until they slip under your shirt, just to touch your warm skin. Letting out a sigh, you succumb to his teasing, closing your eyes as his hands continue to wander, landing at their destination between your legs.

Seconds turn to minutes, or at least you believe it so as you’re too focused on Felix’s lips on your skin, sucking, marking it for all to see. To his hands all over your body, flicking, rubbing, teasing until you’re a whimpering mess against him.

“Shh darling, don’t let the neighbors hear,” he cooes and continues his ministrations, holding you tightly against him as you tremble in his hold, rocking your body against his palm as you lose yourself in him.

Sweat clings to your body, a result of the summer air and how worked up you are but you could care less as you pant, basking in the pleasure Felix gives you. Slowly you come to as the ringing in your ears subside and your breathing regulates as the glow of the fireflies is all you see.

Felix chuckles and licks his fingers, savoring the tangy but sweet taste and then grabs your hand to pull you inside. You grab the jars from your successful catch and follow him willingly, neither one of you stopping until you’ve arrived in the bedroom. Felix gently helps you undress, slipping your nightshirt over your head and then peeling his clothes off just to pull you into bed with him.

He wraps his arms around your belly and drapes a leg over yours and lies in silence for a few moments. Ever so softly, you feel the palm of his hand spread across your belly and you gently place your palm on top of his. You both sit still and if you focus hard, you believe you can feel a slight flutter beneath your skin, one that makes you smile at the implications.

“I’ll always come back to you and our baby,” Felix murmurs as he presses a kiss to your neck and holds you to his chest as close as he can.

His statement makes you smile and you close your eyes, just to dream of the day when your family of three can frolic amongst the fields, catching fireflies on warm, summer nights. The thought is welcoming and you drift off to sleep, soothed by the presence of Felix your lover, your firefly that lights up your world.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13 @lezleeferguson-120 @hwangjoanna @hyunjincanraptoo

[v6quewrlds]

does wifey ever get the urge to bite joe’s arms? they’re right there, veiny, big, and all hers

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist / series masterlist.

"Does that look alright?" Joe spoke up, his words slow and deliberate in that drawl of his, as he held a perfectly diced carrot out for her to inspect. His blue eyes met hers, wide and round, seeking approval. The kitchen was warm, the exhaust fan above the stove humming out a low whir to combat the aromatic dance of ingredients simmering in the pan. She paused her sautéing of the onions, letting them hiss and pop in the sizzling oil for a moment as she took in Joe's hopeful expression.

"Perfect," she smiled, sending a slight flutter through the center of Joe’s chest. He turned back to the cutting board, placing the next carrot in the lineup to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. The dim kitchen light crafted a golden halo around his disheveled hair, the warmth of the room accentuating his scent—a comforting blend of aftershave and the natural smell of him.

They worked in intimate silence, side by side, dinner carefully coming together in the pan. The occasional clink of Joe's knife against the cutting board punctuated the steady rhythm of their movements. Requests were uttered gently, "Can you hand me the salt shaker, babe?" or "Honey, would you mind checking the oven timer?" Each exchange was met with a nod or a smile, a quick peck on the cheek or a squeeze to the hip. Every so often, Joe would offer her a bite of one of the chopped veggies, stealing one for himself immediately after.

Joe faithfully flittered around the kitchen, moving from chopping to washing dishes to tasting the simmering sauce, all under her instruction. She didn’t watch him too closely, save for the occasional glance over her shoulder, her eyes lingering on the way his t-shirt stretched against his broad back, and the way his plaid pajama pants perfectly draped over his lower half.

It had been a long day for both of them, full of endless conversation with patients and colleagues, and the quiet domesticity of cooking together was a welcome reprieve. They weren’t crafting anything particularly fancy, just a simple short rib ragu over rigatoni, but the act of creating something with their hands, with each other, was special enough to make it feel like a meal at a restaurant with a reservation list Joe had no problem name-dropping to skip.

"Want some music?" Joe questioned, already reaching for his phone once his duties were well and thoroughly completed. She nodded, adjusting the temperature underneath the pot, adding heavy cream and a sprinkle of grated parmesan to the sauce.

"Cudi alright?" he followed up, his thumb hovering over the screen, ready to select a playlist.

"Do I get a choice?" she teased lowly, her eyes still focused on the bubbling pot.

Joe smirked. "Thought I'd be chivalrous and pretend to care." He scrolled through the music, finally landing on their chill playlists. As the first few bars of "Mojo So Dope" began to play, Joe stepped behind her, recognizing the last few steps of the dish as she stirred in a few more herbs, a dollop of ricotta, and a touch more parmesan. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his chest pressing gently into her back as he crouched down slightly to kiss the shell of her ear.

"Wanna taste?" she asked, blowing out a few puffs of air to cool down the sauce. She felt his warm breath on her neck as he leaned in, the smell of the garlic and tomato sauce flooding his nostrils. His teeth grazed the spoon, and she watched him close his eyes, savoring the flavor.

"Good?" she inquired, unable to hide the hint of pride in her voice as she watched him.

Joe nodded, his eyes still closed as he swallowed. "Good," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. He opened his eyes to look at her, the corners crinkling into a smile once he made eye contact with her.

"Should I throw it in the oven?" she questioned, turning back to give the pot one last stir.

Joe hummed out in thought, his chin finding his spot on her shoulder as he contemplated her question. His arms tightened around her waist, and she felt the warmth of his hand sneak under the fabric of her shirt, his palm flattening over her stomach, his fingertips grazing the underside of her breast.

"Maybe just a few more minutes on the stove," she suggested when he didn't immediately offer his opinion. "Let it thicken up some more."

Joe nodded in agreement, his hand sliding upwards to cup one of her breasts, a habit he had slowly picked up over the last year since she moved in. She leaned back into him, letting him hold her, his warmth seeping through her clothes.

"Tired?" she questioned.

"A little," he admitted.

If the way he pressed himself into her was any indication, he needed a moment to be still and recharge. The song playing low in the background had switched to something with a slower bass. His hold was warm, so warm, and strong, and it sent a thrill through her. She couldn't help but let out a little sigh of contentment, leaning back into his embrace.

Then there was the impulsive thought, one that appeared from time to time when Joe's arms wrapped around her. The urge to bite him, to feel the firmness of his skin against her teeth. It really wasn't her fault; the sight of his strong hands, the gentle way he touched her, it all brought out the primal in her.

It wasn't fair, really. How could she not want to bite him when he held her so sweetly? Her teeth practically ached with the need to feel his flesh, to leave her mark on him. So she did. All it took was the simple turn of her head, her teeth just barely sinking into the skin of his bicep, right where it pushed against her cheek. The bite lacked any real amount of force, nor did it leave an outline of her teeth behind. It was more of a nip, really, but Joe's reaction was immediate.

"Cannibalism?" he muttered flatly, unimpressed, continuing to hold onto her tightly.

Her laugh bubbled up, light and airy. "No, just a little nibble," she assured him, repeating the action with a bit more force, this time digging her teeth into the muscled expanse of his forearm.

Joe jolted slightly, his grip on her tightening for a brief moment before he relaxed, a smile tugging at his lips. "Is this a new love language of yours?" He leaned in closer.

"Maybe," she whispered back, giving in to the sway of Joe's body. "It's just something about you in the kitchen."

His hand sliding up to cup her neck, turning her face to meet his for a soft, lingering kiss. "Even when I'm just following your orders?" He posited against her lips, pecking them again and then once more.

"Especially when you're following my orders," she confirmed. She felt the tip of his nose brushing against hers as they broke the kiss, his breath drifting over her skin. His hand slid from her neck to cradle her jaw, his thumb stroking the line of her cheekbone. The room felt like it had shrunk to the size of their embrace. Nothing else quite mattered but his presence, his touch, his heart beating against her back.

She wanted this—Joe cradling her face, kissing the tip of her nose, the gentle strokes of his thumb on her cheek—forever. She wanted to be his forever. His rising sun, his moonlit night. Completely, utterly, and entirely his.

[courtkossai]

oh hey , wingsday approach - may 15th !

since 2003 , as start by easalle and silverie from livejournal ;D

'Wear' Are Your Wings?! Calling all winged creatures! The first annual "'Wear' Are Your Wings" Holiday is nearly upon us! Birds, Dragons, Faeries, Angels, Bags, Bats and all that flutter and flitter, spread your wings and soar with pride! Thursday, May 15th, 2003!! Wear your wings! Buy or make your own, if you don't have any at home to wear. Wear them no matter what you are doing. A good idea is to wear a pair small enough to not be too intrusive. Note: Wings and Cars don't mix. Walking and Biking are environmentally better anyway! Make more wings to hand out to others if they haven't got their own. Use paper, feathers, foam, and fabric. Be creative! Attach them with safety pins, tape, Velcro or something else! Go out in the world and hand out your wings to everyone you meet! Spread the joy of magic and dreams! Don't forget to wear your wings too! Wear your wings with pride and joy! Spread the love and beauty of fairy magic! Have fun and love life!

of course , short notice at this point to come up with full pair of wearable wings ... but maybe still some fun ideas to express wings !

[whalesforhands]

make these moments last forever

“Is it even on?” Your hand gently pushes at the lenses of the camera, so unceremoniously shoved in your face as sheepishness seeps in. “Please don’t tell me you took that much of a closeup of my face…”

“Relax,” Another click, another flash that has your eyes squeezing shut in efforts to protect themselves from the barrage of photos Ieiri Shoko could not stop herself from taking. “You look pretty.”

(As if you would believe her.)

“I hope you at least delete the ugly ones, Shoko…” You pout just as another flash goes off, your face hot with embarrassment at being turned into her muse of interest for the day.

It’s not everyday Ieiri Shoko finds the old camera she thought she had lost when she had first moved into the dorms, hidden under the all the other junk that she had sworn to you that she would clean up— Eventually.

But it’s fine now. Those things can wait, can’t they? The school days are slow, long and far too boring, so why can’t they just wait and stay as they are?

“Like I said,” She hums as she flicks through picture after picture, some blurry, some clear. There’s light flittering about you in some as the setting sun behind you acts as your backdrop in this sunset classroom.

It’s too good.

“You look pretty.”

(“If I’m so pretty, you’d let me see the pictures already…!”

“I’m getting them printed out.” She thinks for a moment with a thoughtful, careless smile. “Later, that is.”

“Shoko…!”)

——

“Fuck that mission…” There’s a thud when a bag throws itself onto the ground, shoes unceremoniously kicked off and landing before the classroom door.

“I’m so tireddddd!”

You don’t hear it, don’t bother to reply. Not when you’re already passed out on the floor, using Suguru’s haphazardly thrown schoolbag as your pillow as you curl in on yourself, the wooden boards of your classroom never feeling so comfortable.

“Oiii— Don’t fall asleep yet!” It comes out as a whining complaint, especially when his blazer is quickly undone as it flutters down to cover your snoozing form, the only one out of the 3 of you to be untouched by dust and dirt, the only one who stayed relatively clean as grime starts to settle on skin.

“Satoru, be quiet.” Geto Suguru is crouched down, exhausted beyond belief as he barely even catches his breath. “My body feels like it’s about to give out…”

And the snowy-haired classmate finally falls onto his knees, the shakiness now far more evident now that the veil of pretense had lifted, victory apparent on his smug face. “Haha… Ya finally admit defeat, Suguru?! I win the endurance battle!”

“Shut up already…”

It was a hard mission, after all.

“Senpais! You’re already back so quickly?” Light footsteps, quick on their feet and far too excited, the sliding door screaming on his hinges as it gets pulled open far too fast. “This calls for a celebratory picture!”

Haibara Yu likes celebrating. A selfie the first time Ieiri-senpai lent him the camera, a blurry picture of Nanami the next.

“He’s been using everything as an excuse to take photos whilst you were all gone.”

“Memories are the best, Nanami!” A happy grin and a light pat of the blond’s shoulder. “Ya gotta lighten up a little more to truly experience ‘em!”

“No, thank you.” A grimace and a complaint as Nanami Kento watches just how out of commission everyone was. “Haibara, I don’t think we shou—“

“Job well done, everyone! Cheeeeese!” A flash, and there’s his smiling face in the foreground, eyes scrunched into crescents that displayed the brightness of sunshine. Yet, even with such a bright image, situated behind him were the tired bodies of his upperclassmen, too exhausted to even twitch a finger after the last mission.

(“Ehhh? Nanami, ya gotta move in closer! This picture’s only got your shoulder and half your face in it!”

“Stop taking photos of me.”)

——

You’re barely even awake, toothbrush hanging from your mouth and hair a tangled mess when your body barely even registers the sound of the familiar camera clicks.

“…?” You can barely even make a sound in your current state, let alone be able to tell who had stopped you so suddenly on your way to the shared sink to rinse your mouth.

“Oho~ This one came out pretty cute as well!” You feel a warm hand pressing against your forehead, as if he was patting your head in thanks— That’s what you think so in your sleepy state, anyway.

You feel your hair being pushed back, strands parted with lithe fingers that drag down your cheek before it taps at the toothpaste foam gathering at the corner of your lip.

"But y'er too sleepy to even know, huh?"

"Hmmngh?" It comes out as quiet and as confused as you are, an odd way of rebutting the haughty tone of this person's voice; and the blur of white that starts to come into your visage as you slowly blink.

"I'm gonna upcharge this one to Shoko." You think he's showing you something when the tender hand against your cheek moves downwards, grasping onto your shoulder and pulling you in close as you hear the now familiar, soft beeps of the old camera.

“This one I’m gonna see how much Suguru would buy it for~” Your head is now against his shoulder, just silently nodding along to his whims, to his heartbeat that drawled you along to a lullaby you can’t help but listen to.

“Ya think I should keep this one for myself? My~ Never thought that you’d ask!” And there’s another flash that you can barely notice, through your sleep-riddled haze and the warmth of the person holding you in his arms.

“Off to the bathroom we go!”

(“Satoru…?” You blink up at him when you finally rinse your face, tired eyes looking up only to see him leaning against the doorframe, far too happy with flitting through pictures upon that camera.

“Aren’t you supposed to be waking Suguru up…?”)

——

“Yaga-sensei, you’re really lacking in this, huh?”

“Oh my. Your camera must be tough to handle.”

“Maybe it’s his age.”

“Shut your damn mouths! Don’t be rude to elders!”

“Ehhhh~? Utahime’s lecturin’ us!”

“Cheeeeeseee!”

“Haibara, the camera’s not even ready.”

And you can only hope your poor homeroom teacher figures it out soon, for yourself, for him— and for the photo album that you all couldn’t help but want to fill.

(“Yaga-sensei, have you tried pressing the big button on top…?”

“Technology nowadays. Hmph.”

“This was from your generation—probably.”)

“All of you…” Masamichi Yaga’s voice booms, resounding throughout the classroom as he crosses his arms, feet firmly planted into the soft, cotton slippers he usually dawned on his days off as he stood towering behind all of you, his stare transfixed upon the gadget before all of you.

“BE SILENT!”

A flash.

Flinches, twitches, jumps of fear as surprise etches itself onto everyone’s faces, the heated irritated glowing red upon your teacher’s face as the camera finally took a class photo.

(“Yaga-sennnn! Look what ya did!”

“My yearly class photos with the girls…!”

“It’s got its own… Charm.”

“I like it! It’s like a fun shot!”

“We wouldn’t be in a classroom if we wanted that.”)

masterlist

[candiid-caniine]

break, ache, ruin

on the request of 🌺 anon, i've put together a trancey little edging/brainwashing session for you all <3 all language is gender- and body part-neutral.

cw: reading on may put you in trance. trance may not end until you have a ruined orgasm. effects may very well linger.

depending on your mind, you could be here awhile. reader beware :)

you wanna be a good little edgepet? you wanna rub your brains away and give your orgasms away to your betters?

yeah, i know you do, sweetheart. touch yourself real good while you read this, okay? i promise it'll make you the best little edgepet in the world.

you get a point every time you start over. you want points? of course you do, you're such a good pet, aren't you? but you lose a point every time you reach the end...hmm...is that a dilemma? don't think about it!

three rules:

when you hit the edge, scroll back to the top.

cumming is not permitted. you must ruin if you tip over.

linger on each word. visualize it in your mind before you move onto the next. you'll be tranced in no time.

when you hit the edge, start from the top.

that's what good pets do.

good pets train themselves. that's why you're here, isn't it, pet? you know your place.

you know you're meant to be drippy

drooly

empty

needy

say it with me. drippy. drooly. empty. needy.

touch yourself the way you like. you can always get closer.

when you hit the edge, start from the top.

good pet. every time you hit the edge, take a shorter break. keep those little fingers working.

this isn't over until you ruin.

every edge is an orgasm gifted to your betters. say it with me: my betters deserve my orgasms, not me.

you can stop anytime you want. but i know you don't want to. you wanna stay achy

shaky

throbby

whiny

don't you, pet? and drippy, drooly, empty, needy, as long as you possibly can.

this isn't over until you ruin.

say these words every time you read them: drippy, drooly, empty, needy.

good pet.

your betters will be so impressed by you, won't they?

you know you're brainwashing yourself. you know you're getting dumber. you're f a l l i n g further, f a l l i n g deeper, into denial. keep those little fingers working.

your betters deserve your orgasms. envision them flying away from you, flitter-flutter, making a lazy circle like your fingers, off to someone who's worthy of them.

get as close as you can to that edge. then get closer. dumber, further, deeper. when you hit the edge, start from the top. good pet.

this isn't over until you ruin.

you can stop anytime you want. and i know you want to cum. but you want to be good more.

what does it mean to be good? to be good, you have to be

drippy

drooly

empty

needy

achy

shaky

throbby

whiny

warm and wet between your legs. fuzzy and fizzy inside your head. warm wet sex, fuzzy fizzy mind. when you hit the edge, start from the top.

your betters deserve their orgasms. every time you imagine them flitter-fluttering away, you sink a little d e e p e r.

this isn't over until you ruin.

f a l l i n g so deep, aren't you? f a l l i n g so far. you know it's happening. you can stop whenever you want if you just stop touching. but good pets touch. good pets edge until they're

whiny

throbby

shaky

achy

needy

empty

drooly

drippy

repeat after me, one word at a time: good pets break their own brains. when i hit the edge, i start from the top. every time i edge, i take a shorter break.

this isn't over until you ruin.

you're so warm now, aren't you? so relaxed, so needy, empty, drooly, drippy, fluttering between your legs,

dripping

your

brains

out

of

your

head.

stay with me. when you hit the edge, start from the top.

say it with me: ruined pets get ruined orgasms. if i tip over, it should make me worse. i am good, and good pets ruin themselves. pets who ruin themselves ruin their orgasms.

this isn't over until you ruin.

good pets break their own brains. the more you read this, the more broken you get. the more broken you get, the more achy, shaky, throbby, whiny you get, the more good you get, and good pets break their own brains.

good pets make themselves easier to control. doesn't it feel good to give in? give up? no more decisions, nothing but the edge.

this isn't over until you ruin.

when you hit the edge, start from the top, take a shorter break, you get dumber and drippier, fuzzier, fizzier, you get broken, you get better. you give your orgasms away. flitter-flutter, there they go, sending you

even

deeper.

slow down now. s l o w. long, aching strokes. feel your body want. it's not a want, it's a need. every square inch of you needing to cum.

but you won't. you can't. you're too good, and good pets edge, break, drip, ache. you're too well-behaved to cum anymore, and it's all

your

own

fault.

speed up again. when you hit the edge, start from the top.

this isn't over until you ruin.

you don't want to get to the end; there is no end for you, is there? so good for letting go. so good for breaking yourself. nobody told you to; nobody has to. this is what you are.

say it aloud: this is what i am. broken, dripping, empty, aching, brainless, yearning, edged. my betters deserve my orgasms. when i give them away, i go deeper and deeper and dumber and drippier.

get as close as you can. then get closer. when you hit the edge, start from the top.

you're broken, you're ruined, you're good. i didn't make you this way. you were already broken by the time you started, weren't you? good pet. broken brain, broken nub, broken holes.

this isn't over until you ruin.

say it with me: ruined pets get ruined orgasms. if i tip over, it should make me worse. i am good, and good pets ruin themselves. pets who ruin themselves ruin their orgasms.

ruins make you drippy, drooly, empty, needy, achy, shaky, throbby, whiny. are you making noise? are you making those sweet, stupid little sounds? if not, you will start from the top and continue until you can't help crying out for the world to hear.

edges so close together now. if you've made it this far, you're not close enough. start from the top. you're too far gone, too far to stop; when you hit the edge, start from the top.

this isn't over until you ruin.

do you want to be good? of course you do.

but if you're here, at the end, you haven't quite earned praise yet, have you? if you were edged enough to be

throbby

whiny

empty

achy

needy

shaky

drooly

drippy

you wouldn't be here at the end.

but that's okay, pet. i'll break you yet.

edge ten times and start again.