#i mean i can write whatever i want with him

[pucksandpower]

Rockabye Baby

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: you and Oscar take the next step in building your family … just not in the way that anyone expected

Note: I really wanted to get something silly and cute posted for Mother’s Day — and so this was born! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🫶

You snuggle closer to Oscar in bed, resting your head on his chest as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. It’s been an exhausting few weeks on the road, with races back-to-back, but these quiet moments together make it all worth it.

“Osc?” You murmur sleepily. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything.”

You hesitate, not sure if you should broach the subject. But you’ve been together for years now, surely he’s thought about it too? “Have you ever, you know … thought about having kids?”

Oscar tenses slightly, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Kids?”

“Yeah.” You prop yourself up on one elbow to study his face. “We’re not getting any younger. And I know racing is your whole life, but … I don’t know, I think you’d make an amazing dad.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?” His fingers resume their gentle stroking along your arm. “I can’t lie, the idea terrifies me. All the responsibility, the pressure ...” He blows out a long breath. “But with you by my side? I think we could make it work.”

Hope blooms in your chest and you lean in to kiss him, long and lingering. “Really? You mean that?”

“Well, not right this second.” He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “But someday? Definitely.”

You beam at him, buzzing with a childlike excitement you haven’t felt in years. “Oscar Piastri, future father. I can’t wait.”

He pulls you close, tucking you under his chin. “Me neither. Now get some rest, yeah? Big day tomorrow.”

You hum contentedly, letting his steady heartbeat lull you toward sleep. Kids with Oscar … you can’t imagine anything better.

A few days later, you’re curled up on the sofa after a long day of work, idly scrolling through your phone while Oscar pads around the flat. He’s been oddly restless and fidgety all evening, but you’ve learned not to question his little quirks. He’ll open up when he’s ready.

“So,” he begins, sinking onto the couch beside you with an adorably nervous expression. “You know how the other night you mentioned, um … wanting to be a mum someday?”

You perk up instantly, setting your phone aside as your pulse kicks up a notch. “Yeah?”

“Well.” He ducks his head shyly, then pulls something from behind his back — a small, smooth rock, painted in garish shades of papaya. “I got you this.”

You blink at him. “A … rock?”

“It’s our baby!” He thrusts it toward you proudly. “See, I’m the dad now. Taking those first steps.”

A startled laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Oscar, you dork. That’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Too much?” He grimaces, though his eyes are twinkling with barely contained mirth. “I just thought, you know, we could start small. Get used to the idea before, uh, before anything bigger.”

“Oh my god, I love you.” You take the rock from his hand, cradling it tenderly as you peck his cheek. “Hi there, little guy. Hope you don’t mind a slightly non-traditional family.”

“Not at all.” Oscar drapes his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. “We’ll just raise him to be open-minded and accepting. Like his mum.”

“His mum who gave birth to him in pebble form, you mean?”

Oscar shrugs unapologetically. “He’ll be the talk of the playground.”

You dissolve into helpless giggles, nestling even closer. “This is certifiably insane, you know that? I can’t believe we’re grown adults playing house with a pet rock.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” Oscar nuzzles into the crook of your neck, warm and solid against you. “We’re new parents. We can do whatever we want.”

Over the next few days, Rocky, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, becomes a constant presence. You bring him along when you travel to the next race, introducing him proudly to the team. Lando takes one look and bursts out laughing.

“What the bloody hell is that thing?”

“Our son,” Oscar says with a straight face. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”

“You two are properly mental.” But there’s an unmistakable fondness in Lando’s smile as he gently pokes at Rocky. “S’pose he takes after his dad, eh?”

You crack up at the offended look on Oscar’s face. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be handling most of the heavy lifting around here.”

From there, it only escalates. Rocky gets his own tiny race suit, his own seat in Oscar’s car (firmly buckled in, of course — safety first). You find yourself referring to him with increasingly outlandish endearments.

“Here, let me get the handsomest stone in the whole wide world a bottle before we try tummy time.”

“How’s my little pebble today? Did you sleep okay in your bassinet?”

Logan nearly falls over laughing the first time he sees Rocky strapped into a miniature car seat on the plane between races.

“You guys are too much, man.” He shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Where do you even find stuff like that?”

Oscar smirks. “Parents have their ways.”

The joke takes on a life of its own, morphing from a silly gag into a full-blown inside joke, an ever-present reminder that someday, when you’re both ready, you really will have a baby of your own to dote on. For now, though, raising Rocky together is more than enough.

It really hits you one evening as the team celebrates Oscar’s latest podium finish. You’re sitting with a small group, letting the lively chatter of friends and team members wash over you, when you become aware of Oscar sitting across from you. He’s got Rocky nestled in the crook of his elbow, cooing nonsense as he gently jostles him.

“Who’s a good little guy? You are, that’s who. Gonna grow up big and strong like your dad, yeah?” His expression is so tender, so achingly soft, that you feel your heart swell fit to burst.

He’s going to be an incredible father someday, you realize with a jolt of startling clarity. Look at how natural it comes to him, how happy and content he seems, just cradling that silly rock.

Later that night, you find yourself curled around Oscar in bed, trailing feather-light kisses along the line of his throat. He hums deep in his chest, tangling one hand in your hair to tug you closer.

“Mmm, what was that for?”

“Nothing.” You prop your chin on his chest, drinking in the achingly handsome lines of his face. “You just … you’re gonna be such an amazing dad, you know that?”

A bashful smile tugs at his lips as his free hand smooths along the curve of your hip. “Yeah? You really think so?”

“I know so.” You reach out to trace the sharp line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Any kid would be lucky to have you.”

Oscar’s gaze softens to molten gold in the dim light. “Not nearly as lucky as we are to have you. You’re the best mum Rocky could’ve asked for.”

He kisses you then, deep and searing, pulling you flush against him as the world around you falls away. And when he finally breaks away, breathless but beaming, you know without a shadow of a doubt:

Whenever the time comes, whenever you meet your real baby … everything is going to be okay. More than okay.

Because you’ll have Oscar by your side, just like always. Your partner, your best friend, and the love of your life.

***

Five Years Later

You cradle your newborn daughter to your chest, gazing down at her perfect little face in pure wonderment. It’s only been a few hours since she made her entrance into the world, but you’re already hopelessly in love.

“She’s beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears as he brushes one reverent fingertip along her downy cheek. “Just like her mum.”

You lean into him, overcome. This right here — the two of you and your brand new baby girl — is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those years of loving Oscar, of dreaming about starting a family together … it was all leading to this shining moment.

A soft knock at the door breaks the tranquil silence. Oscar shoots you a quizzical look as a familiar face pokes his head in.

“This a bad time?” Lando grins crookedly. “I come bearing gifts for the little one.”

“Lando!” You can’t help but beam at the sight of your friend. “Get in here, you muppet.”

He slips inside, toeing off his shoes with a cheeky wink in your direction. “Well someone’s in a good mood. Can’t imagine why.”

“Are you kidding? I’m amazing. Completely knackered, but amazing.” You gesture for him to come closer with your free hand. “Here, come meet Oscar’s little co-driver.”

Lando’s expression melts into something unbearably soft as he peers down at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Aww, mate … she’s perfect. Well done, you two.”

“Do you, uh ...” Oscar clears his throat gruffly. “D’you want to hold her?”

For a moment, Lando looks almost scared, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then he nods jerkily, settling into the bedside chair with surprising care as you transfer your daughter into his arms. He cradles her close with the utmost tenderness, rocking her ever so slightly as she lets out the faintest sigh.

“Look at you,” he breathes, sounding utterly besotted already. “Just a teeny little thing, aren’t you?”

It’s like seeing an entirely different side of him, one you never could have anticipated. Not the cheeky, irreverent joker you’ve known for years, but a man, a friend, wholly disarmed by new life and possibility. You exchange a look with Oscar, heart fit to bursting.

“So,” Lando continues, still totally entranced by the baby. “I know we ribbed you mercilessly for a while there about the whole rock baby thing ...”

Your mouth falls open in recollection. “Lando, please don’t-”

But he’s already reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a familiar splash of textured papaya. “But there’s no way I’d let my favorite nephew miss out on this.”

Rocky, battered and faded but unmistakable, sits nestled in Lando’s palm. You nearly choke on a startled laugh.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Hold up, there’s more.” Lando somehow manages to keep cradling the baby with one arm as he bends down with the other, hauling a plastic bucket onto the bed. You gape at the contents — dozens upon dozens of smooth pebbles, each one lovingly decorated in bright shades of orange.

“Had to get the whole family involved, didn’t I?” Lando says with a shameless grin. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters to look after her now.”

You swat at him in a flood of exasperated affection. “You absolute prick. Look at you, being all sentimental.”

“Me? Never.” But the shine of unshed tears in his eyes contradicts the words. He transfers the baby back to you with exaggerated care, then takes a moment to stroke one gentle finger along her tiny cheek. “You’ve got one hell of a village behind you, little one.”

Over the next short while, Lando pulls up a chair and regales you all with outrageous stories and anecdotes, all while Rocky and his “siblings“ make the rounds, passed from person to person like favorite old friends. At one point, Oscar’s cradling your human baby in one arm and your original baby rock in the other, murmuring nonsense to them both as you blink back tears for what feels like the thousandth time that day.

“Look at you,” you say in awe, drinking in the sight. “My little family.”

Oscar meets your gaze over the top of your daughter’s head, his own eyes shining. “Our family,” he corrects softly.

You’re still reveling in that realization when a quiet knock sounds at the door. A nurse bustles in with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to move the baby to the nursery soon. Just for a little while to let mum rest.”

Oh. You clutch your daughter closer on instinct, chest caving with an aching reluctance you weren’t expecting. How can you possibly bear to let her go already?

But then Lando slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oi, it’s alright. We’ll keep an eye on her for you, yeah? Give Uncle Lando and Mini Piastri some quality time.”

Rocky sits nestled in his other palm, as stalwart and patient as ever even after all these years. You nod quickly, swiping at your damp cheeks as you kiss your daughter’s downy head one last time before relinquishing her to the nurse.

“I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Don’t go growing too much while I’m gone.”

Watching her get wheeled away is harder than you could have imagined, like a physical ache in your chest. Oscar wraps you up in his arms from behind, steadying you with his usual quiet strength.

“She’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “She’s just down the hall. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let his soothing words wash over you, turning into his embrace until your breathing evens out again. First lesson of parenthood learned — this part’s not easy. But you’ll get through it, just like everything else, with Oscar by your side.

Rocky sits on the bedside table, bold colors slightly faded but message as bright and clear as ever. A reminder that sometimes, the smallest, silliest things can take on the biggest meaning when it comes to family.

“Alright lovebirds,” Lando pipes up, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. “What d’you say we bring the whole crew down to see the little miss soon, eh? Give her many uncles a chance to swoon all over her?”

You manage a watery chuckle, leaning into Lando’s side as Oscar tucks himself against your other side. Because this? This little patchwork family you’ve built around yourselves, kept close through all the chaos and the years? This is what it’s all about. The fierce loyalty, the bond forged by adversity and triumph and teamwork. The family you’ve chosen over and over again, year after year, through all of life’s twists and turns.

Your eyes drift to Rocky, resting quietly on the nightstand by your hospital bed. Once an inside joke, a silly gift from your husband to make you smile. Now a treasured heirloom, a precious mascot for the latest member of your ever-expanding clan.

Maybe you’ll hold onto that little rock for another few decades, you muse, draping one arm around Oscar’s trim waist. Long enough for your daughter — and any other little ones who may eventually join her — to grow up passing him between chubby baby fists. Long enough for your grandchildren to gather around and listen to stories about.

“Come on then,” you’ll say with an indulgent smile. “Let Granny tell you the story of Rocky. How he was the very first baby in our little family ...”

***

r/offmychest

u/NumberOneRockHater · 9h

My parents and entire family are convinced a ROCK is my older brother!

Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it’s been driving me crazy for years. My parents and extended family are all obsessed with this rock that they insist is my older brother “Rocky” (ugh, I know).

I’m talking full-on delusion levels here. Ever since before I was born, my dad got my mom this painted rock as a joke “baby”. Well, the joke escalated to the point where they started taking this rock everywhere, dressing it up in little outfits, calling it “him”, the whole nine yards.

At first I thought it was just a weird little quirk, you know? Silly but harmless. Except it never stopped. I’m 16 years old now and my PARENTS STILL REFER TO THIS ROCK AS MY SIBLING.

It’s always “Where’s your brother?” and “Did you pack Rocky’s bag for our trip?” and “Don’t forget to wish your brother a happy birthday!” My uncle (who is the WORST enabler) will show up to every family event pulling more painted rocks out of his pockets like “Look, more kids for you guys!”

Meanwhile I’m just standing there like a crazy person. How is nobody else concerned that my entire family has deluded themselves into believing a literal inanimate object is a sentient being?

And the real kicker? This dumb rock has been passed around and adored more than me, an actual human child. I have clear memories of being like 6 years old and my parents getting legitimately UPSET at me for dropping Rocky on the ground. While I’m standing right there!

My dad loves telling this stupid story about the day I was born, how my uncle showed up at the hospital like “I brought the baby’s siblings!” and pulled out an entire bucket of painted pebbles. PEBBLES, PEOPLE. As my “brothers and sisters”?

I’m honestly losing my mind here. No matter how much I protest or roll my eyes, they always play it off as a silly inside joke. Like yeah, I’m sure getting your knickers in a twist over my lack of acknowledgment for THE ROCK YOU NAMED AND CLAIM IS MY SIBLING is a totally normal thing to do! My mum actually teared up the last time I put my foot down, saying she could never abandon her “firstborn.” Um, hello? I was the firstborn, you weirdos!

At this point, I have to assume that either A) My parents and family are all certifiable and living in a shared psychosis, or B) This is some sort of Truman Show situational prank that I’m not in on.

Is it too late to be adopted by a normal family? Or do I need to be the one committed for dealing with this nonsense?

Please tell me I’m not actually going insane here. Anybody else have a family this completely deluded?

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u/NosyAndProud · 8h

LOL no way, your family sounds hilarious! I’m dying at the image of your poor teen self dealing with this ongoing rocky sibling chronicle. But in their defense, you’ve gotta admit it’s a pretty creative way to memorialize a dumb inside joke, right?

My advice? Lean into it. Get your big brother an outfit for the next family gathering. Play fight with “him” in front of your friends and horrify them. TP the house and blame it on Rocky’s delinquent behavior. The possibilities for messing with everyone are endless!

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 6h

I’m honestly crying, your suggestions have me wheezing! Although if I DID embrace this, I’m pretty sure my uncle would lose his mind. He’s already brought enough “rock siblings” for an entire pebble daycare at this point.

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u/JudgingLoudly · 7h

This is sending me! I’m just imagining you as a little kid, trying to argue with your parents about why inanimate objects can’t actually be siblings. And them being full-on “Well ackshually, this is Rocky your brother” 🤓☝️

But also lowkey it’s kinda sweet? I mean objectifying nonliving things is usually a bad idea (see every Disney movie ever). But if it’s just a quirky tradition that brings your family joy and makes them feel special, who are we to judge? You only get one weird childhood!

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 5h

Yes, exactly! It was always “But Rocky will be so disappointed if you don’t share your toys with him!” Like … what?

And don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful parents and we’re a very close, loving family. That’s what makes this particular shared psychosis so baffling! Just a big ol’ collective break from reality to obsess over this stupid rock, I guess.

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u/LiveForDrama · 4h

Ok but real talk, I would give ANYTHING to have been a fly on the wall when your uncle first unveiled the “siblings” 💀 I’m picturing this grown man deadass pulling pebbles out of his pockets and ceremoniously announcing “Here’s baby Pumice, and little Granite, and this one is called Basalt ...”

And your parents were just like “Why, HELLO THERE LITTLE ONES! WHAT DELIGHTFUL NEW ADDITIONS TO OUR BROOD!” Just … no questions asked. No commentary on the total insanity. God, I love families.

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 3h

You have NO idea. I still have flashbulb memories of being like 10 years old, walking into the living room to find my GROWN-ASS UNCLE lying on the floor, lining up those idiotic pebbles and introducing them one by one.

Meanwhile my dad is on the couch COOING at them and having full-on conversations like “Isn’t that right, little fella? Your uncle just loves to spoil you, doesn’t he?” MY BRAIN COULD NOT COMPUTE.

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u/GlassHalfFull · 2h

Ok, gotta say … as someone raised by very boring, no-nonsense parents, I’m just a lil bit jealous of the sheer unrestrained WHIMSY your family has cultivated here.

Like, you’ll always have this hilarious shared experience to look back on! Sure it’s a rock, but it’s THEIR rock, you know? That’s beautiful in a weird way. At least your childhood wasn’t mind-numbing evenings full of tax documents and khaki pantsuits?

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 1h

Haha, you make a good point! I definitely can’t say my childhood was dull, that’s for sure. Although I do have traumatic memories of losing Rocky at a rest stop when I was 5, and my parents freaking out for hours until we found him under a vending machine. Totally normal.

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[adriennebarnes]

hi! i loved Drive Thru Test and i was wondering if you'd actually write charles calling y/n his girlfriend and then her not wearing the ring. i think that would just be really funny and he'd be so cute whining. im not trying to rush you and I'd be happy to wait for the fic!

Hi! Yes, it would be very funny because i don’t think Charles realizes that he proposed to a Drama Queen. I don’t know if it turned out like you wanted it to but I really hope you like it!

Fiancé Girlfriend

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: After a month of being engaged, Charles isn’t used to calling Y/N his fiancé, and accidentally calls her his girlfriend AGAIN. Y/N being true to her words, decides to stop wearing her ring.

Warning: the usual spelling and grammatical errors, VERY bad photoshop.

A/N: I am on my period and it SUCKS, i haven’t been able to get much sleep sadly and i really want chocolate and there’s no chocolate in my house 😩 also, if I were to ever give Charles and Y/N a dog in my fanfics, it will not be Leo since he is a Saint Mleux as well, not just a Leclerc

(His face when he realized he messed up)

Y/N was in the paddock at the Monaco Grand Prix, she had to be there for Charles’s home race. She was happy she did, Charles got P1, Max P2, and Lando P3. Charles kissed her when he got out of the car, she saw his podium ceremony, literally the best GP she’s been to, nothing could mess up her mood. She was in the hospitality snacking on whatever they were offering her while watching the post race interview on the TV and something happened.

“So Charles, we saw you kissing Y/N after your big Home Race win, how long have you guys been together?” The interviewer asked.

“Yes, my girlfriend and I have been together for 5 years.” Charles said and his eyes widened. Max and Lando were also looking at him like ‘ooh, she’s gonna kill you’ “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant..” Charles started but the interviewer ignored him and started asking Max and Lando questions.

Y/N was in shock, how dare Charles call we his girlfriend on live television. So Y/N did what any normal person would do, she took off her ring and placed it securely in the inside pocket of her purse.

Charles in the other hand was panicking after the interview.

“Okay, try not to panic.” Lando said.

“That ship has sailed, Lando. I’m panicking, I’m fucking panicking!” Charles was paving around the room.

“There’s probably a good chance she didn’t see the post race interview.” Lando said.

“And if she did? I already called her my girlfriend once, you know what she said she would do if I do it again? Take off her ring.” Charles said.

“Maybe she was bluffing, she wouldn’t actually go through with that, she loves you too much. I have never seen a couple love each other so much.” Max said and Charles smiled.

“You’re right, Max, she loves me, she’d never take off the ring.” Charles said. He left the room to go to the hospitality and saw Y/N eating fries. “Mon ange! Did you see the interview?”

“Muñeco! Yes I did.” Y/N said.

“I am so sorry, I really am.” Charles takes Y/N’s hand in his and noticed something was missing. “Mon ange, where’s your ring?”

“What ring, muñeco?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence.

“Your ring, your engagement ring, where is it?” Charles asked.

“Charles, I don’t know what you are talking about, why would I have a ring? It’s not like I’m your fiancé or anything, I’m just your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles pouted.

“I’m sorry! I swear I am so very sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Charles begged for forgiveness.

“Let’s go home, muñeco, can we order in?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah sure, anything you want, mon coeur.” Charles said. They were walked to the car and as soon as they got in, Charles expected Y/N to put her ring back on since they are not ‘in public’ anymore but she didn’t, the ring was still off. “So mon ange, have you been thinking about when would you want the wedding?”

“Wedding? What wedding? We’re not even engaged, Charles.” Y/N said. You know the saying ‘if they go low, I go lower’? Y/N is going as low as the depths of hell for a slip of the tongue.

“Mon ange, is not funny anymore.” Charles whined.

“Did you order food?” Y/N asked.

“Yes I did, we’re picking it up.” Charles said.

“Cool.” Y/N said.

The drive to the restaurant and back home was silent.

“Okay, we’re back home now.” Charles said as they entered the apartment.

“Yes muñeco, Im aware.” Y/N said but she still didn’t put her ring back on.

“Mon ange please wear your ring.” Charles begged, wrapping his arms around her waist, her back to his chest. “Please, I promise to announce our engagement on Instagram.” Charles kisses her neck. “Please just wear the ring, I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you are the best fiancé a man could ever have.” Charles whispered in her ear as he places little neck kisses.

Y/N turned around and saw Charles pouring with teary eyes and she felt her heart melt.

“Aw muñeco, okay, I’ll wear my ring. But promise the whole world will know we are engaged. I love that you want your friends and family to know first, but it hurts me when you still call me your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles kisses her forehead.

“I know, mon ange. We’re going to let the whole world know that you’re my fiancé.” Charles kissed her passionately.

Liked by pierregasly and 830,659 others

charles_leclerc after years of dating, I proposed to the love of my life on our 5th anniversary. I love her so much, I am thankful for having her in my life. We have been engaged for a month and I am so happy that I get to call her my fiancé, the future Mrs. Leclerc, I love you 😘.

View all 9,235 comments

landonorris happy for you mate, so glad she didn’t kill you

charles_leclerc you and be both 😳

maxverstappen1 happy for you mate!

carlossainz55 congratulations, cabrón! I expect invite to the wedding

yourusername aww, muñeco, I love you too, I can’t wait to be Mrs. Leclerc 🥹

francisca.cgomes let me be a bridesmaid!

yourusername you’re maid of honor!

user45 no wonder Charles looked nervous after his pst race interview

yourusername posted a story

charles_leclerc replied

Can’t wait to be your husband 😘

The End

Hope y’all liked it! It was a little short but fun to write!

[cupid-styles]

brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. 

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?” 

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks. 

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows. 

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! how are you?

i recently burned my thigh with my iron curler and it formed a big scar. it started slowly bubbling up and i accidentally popped it like 2 days ago so now i have fresh skin open 🥲 it’s extra sensitive and i have to patch it up. and when i let the wound breath it HURTS 😭

i was wondering if you could write about this with emt!marauders? or maybe just james? idk lol whatever you feel like writing it about.

AND IF YOUVE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS ALREADY, MY BAD 😃😭

Hi lovely, I'm good! I'm really sorry this happened, it sounds awful!! Hope it's feeling a bit better by now <3

cw: severe burn (no details)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 786 words

“I don’t think we should do this.”  

“I mean,” says James, sitting patiently opposite you on the bed, “I don’t love it either.” 

“Then let’s not,” you bargain.

 He gives you a sorry smile. “What do you think we should do instead, angel?” 

You take a deep breath. “Leave it,” you say on the exhale. “It’ll heal eventually. Or it won’t, and the bandage will become my new skin. I could be fine with that.” 

“I’m somewhat attached to your real skin.” 

“We all have to make sacrifices, James.” 

Your boyfriend gives you an amused look, but there’s worry beneath it. You feel guilty for putting him through this. It’s bad enough that he has to change your bandages for you because you’re too squeamish to do it yourself, but now you’re also making him convince you as if it were his idea. 

You blow out a long breath, tilting your face up toward the ceiling. “I can’t see it.” 

“You don’t have to,” he reassures you. “You can close your eyes, baby.”

“How bad is a little infection really?” you ask, but you’re already laying back, succumbing to the plushness of your pillow. 

“I had a dog bite get infected once,” James says, pulling your leg into his lap. Strong, gentle fingers on the underside of your thigh. “I didn’t enjoy it.” 

“You got bitten by a dog?” You turn your head to see him, but he shoots you a look and you sigh, covering your eyes with your hands. “When was that?” 

“When I was little.” One of his hands stays cradling your leg, but you feel the fingers of the other probing carefully at the edges of your bandage. Apprehension climbs up your throat, mingling with the ache of affection that’s already there. You appreciate how delicate James is with you, peeling the bandage up gingerly by one corner instead of ripping it off like some might. “It wasn’t really the dog’s fault, it was just spooked and I didn’t know enough to stay away.” 

You hiss as the bandage sticks to a tender bit of skin, and James coos an apology, stroking the unharmed skin beside it soothingly. Then the whole thing comes off, air hitting the wound and making you tense all over. 

“What happened with the bite?” Your voice is somewhat strained. 

James hesitates. “There was a lot of puss involved,” he says. “You won’t want to hear the details.” 

“Mm, thanks.” 

He chuckles. You can hear him twisting the cap off the antibiotic ointment. Your fingertips press harder into your brow bone. 

“You alright?” he asks softly. 

“Mhm. I’m ready.” 

You still gasp through your teeth when the ointment makes contact with your skin, and James grips your leg more firmly to keep you from flinching away. 

“Sorry,” he hisses, working fast as he can with gentle, caring fingers. “Sorry, baby.” 

“Not your fault,” you squeak out, keeping your own fingers pressed tightly over your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.” 

James doesn’t seem to want to accept your thanks, and you let the silence sit. When he’s done, you both sigh. 

“Thanks,” you say again. For good measure. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Definitely not,” James agrees. “I’ve no idea what we’re going to do when I’m hurt someday and neither of us can look at it.” 

You drop your hands from your eyes and sit up on your elbows, careful to look only at James and not down at your leg. It’s not hard. He’s a lovely sight, even with that sympathetic pinch to his mouth and worry tightening the muscles around his eyes. You reach for his hand, and his expression lightens. He wipes his fingertips off on his jeans before giving it to you. 

“We’ll have to call Remus,” you say, squeezing his fingers. 

A laugh startles out of him. “I thought you were going to say you’d put your squeamishness aside for me. Or that it wouldn’t be gross because you love me, or something.” 

“I would if it were true,” you reply, “but I’m afraid I won’t be much help if I’m gagging over you the entire time. I’ll hold your hand while we both don’t look, though.” 

“Mm, fair enough.” He scoots closer on the bed. His hand finds your opposite hip, rubbing a slow back-and-forth. “And you’ll distract me with kisses while I’m nursed back to health?” 

“If it’ll help.” Your voice is soft. “Though I should point out that I haven’t received any kisses.” 

Twin dimples appear on either side of James mouth as he leans over you, careful to avoid your hurt leg. “Patience, angel,” he murmurs as his lips brush yours. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[cerise-on-top]

Hiiii :3 and could you do Kate laswell and könig with a reader who loved cuddles?

Hey there! Sure I can! But I don't write Laswell as very cuddly! But I made König's a bit longer to try and make up for it, hope that's alright!

Laswell and König with a Cuddly!Reader

Laswell: If you love cuddles then she’s the wrong person to ask for some, sorry. Sometimes she doesn’t mind them, sometimes she absolutely hates being touched. It’s very rare for her to initiate anything more than just a kiss to your cheek or a hand on your back for a short amount of time. Laswell genuinely is not a cuddly person, at all. Sometimes, on a good day, she might oblige if you ask her to. However, even then your cuddle sessions won’t be too long. And if I were you then I wouldn’t force her to cuddle you either, she’ll get snappy if you do. Your relationship is built on mutual trust and respect. You’re violating her boundaries if you force her to cuddle. Sorry, but that’s just how I’ve been writing her.

König: He’s not too fond of cuddles either, but he makes exceptions for his S/O. If you’re his S/O, that’s great! You can ask him for some cuddles and he’ll only very rarely say no to you. It’s usually when he’s busy that he’ll say no, but any other time? He’s free game. Again, you’re the only person he’s somewhat cuddly with. However, unlike Laswell, he sometimes will ask you for some cuddles himself. Sometimes even the big guy needs to hold someone, or even be held. I’ve said it before, but if you’re roughly the same size as him, or even taller than him, then he might hint at wanting to be held from time to time as well. But other than that, he’ll humor you. You can cuddle in any position you want, but he refuses to lie down on top of you. Even when you’re the same size as him, he won’t do it. König is aware he’s a very heavy lad, so he really doesn’t want to crush you. But if you wanna lie on top of him, then you can go right ahead, he really doesn’t mind. In those cases he actually quite likes it when you’re shorter than he is, because in that case you can lie on top of him in your entirety. He’ll wrap his arms around you, sometimes he’ll kiss the top of your head as well. Spooning with him is pretty nice. He’s a strong guy, and a warm one at that as well. Don’t ask him to cuddle you in summer, though, as he gets sweaty fairly easily and doesn’t want to gross you out. Besides, he also doesn’t want to sweat bullets just because you’re clinging to him. But you’re more than welcome to just plop down in his lap during any other season and nuzzle into him. He’ll call you “meine kleine Schmusekatze” or, if you’re being especially clingy, “mein kleines Schmusebärchen”. I think that eventually, when he comes home from an especially rough mission, he actually kind of looks forward to holding you. It’s not that unlikely that you might get hurt because of him, so it’s nice to get to hold you and make sure you’re safe within his arms. Sometimes, while you’re cuddling, he’ll tease you by speaking his dialect. He’s saying no mean things, though. It’s either how cute you are, how you can’t understand him, or just some random things he thought of at the moment. Even if you know German he’ll lay his dialect on extra thick so you can’t actually understand him.

[haeryna]

i would recognize you in a million lifetimes ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru

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summary: they say that a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. you would've been more inclined to believe it, if you weren't the only person who got burned. but now, suguru and satoru are offering you the salve and you're not sure whether it's enough to fix the scars that they left behind.

tw: sfw! angst with a happy ending, satoru is a cocky shit, suguru spends half the time on his knees in this (BUT NONSEXUALLY), more abandonment mentions because it's crucial to the plot, mentions of homophobia. lots of misunderstandings.

notes: divider by @/saradika-graphics. sorry, this chapter is a little shorter lol but surprise!! love how i said i was gonna take a break and then one day i suddenly realized kind of what i wanted to ensuing conversation to be. ending is a little open-ended; as of right now, i have no further plot points, but obviously that could change in the future (feel free to let me know where you want it to go/what you want me to write more about set in this universe!). thank you to everyone who loved and supported me when i first started this series; it was my first time really writing anything for a fandom, or publicly sharing it for that matter <33

There always seems to be an innate misunderstanding that occurs when people encounter Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, in that Satoru is the one who calls the shots and Suguru merely follows. Though Satoru might have seemed like the arrogant one, and Suguru the mild-mannered, you are intimately aware that the depth of Suguru’s pride almost matches his patience. It’s why he always tends to win whatever petty squabble that starts, why he always obtains the results he hopes for. Suguru always wins, you’d complained once, and his cat-like eyes had crinkled in amusement as he watched you. Not always, had been his response, but you knew it to be a lie. You had watched as he left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, his past lovers drawn in by his honey-sweet words and careful, calloused hands. You were no exception. If Satoru is a work of art, then Suguru is the painter, and you the lonely observer watching from behind the museum glass. You wonder if the same pride prevented him from finding you years ago.

It makes it seem all the more laughable as you watch Suguru kneeling before you through the water that clings to your lashes. The man that had never given in on his knees for someone who gave it all. You are suddenly horribly aware of the air that passes through your lungs in shuddering gasps. Your skin suddenly feels too tight for your body as your heart pounds to the tune of the faint ticking of the clock. “Please,” Suguru whispers at last, as his thumb runs along the back of your hand. Satoru’s arms tighten around you as if committing you to his memory, before letting go. You can say nothing as you stare down at your fingers traitorously intertwined with Suguru’s. 

“What if I don’t want to listen?” 

Satoru inhales sharply, and Suguru pauses, before reluctantly releasing your hand. 

“Do you mean it?” 

“I wasn’t aware that you two cared about how I felt about your decisions,” you retort, watching how Suguru’s expression falls. It doesn’t feel quite as satisfying as you thought it would. You push the thought down. 

“Baby–” Satoru starts, and the facade you’ve built up begins to crumble. 

“Don’t call me that!” you snarl, pushing yourself from the floor. His eyes are pleading, but you steel yourself as you continue. “I’m not your lover. I’m not anyone special to you, considering how quick you were to replace me.” Your voice breaks. “Mocking me like this is low, even for you.” 

Satoru stiffens. “You were special to me. You still are.” Your hands curl into fists as he continues, voice twisting into something more arrogant. “Though, I’m sure Kenji couldn’t live up to me.” 

“Don’t.” Your tone is raw as you frantically try to reel in the anguish you’d been storing for the past five years. “Don’t you dare try to use my letters against me.” 

Satoru has the decency to at least look ashamed. The look on his face is an echo of when he would frown all day if you didn’t give him what he wanted. Satoru is selfish, you know, all heat and arrogance and childishness. You know it’s partially your fault; you were the one that spoiled him off of your love in the first place. 

Suguru calls your name softly, and you turn to face him. He’s still on his knees, gazing up at you with the devotion of a worshiper and the guilt of a sinner. “Tell me what I can do to make it right,” he murmurs. “Tell me what I can do and I’ll do anything you ask of me.” 

“Why didn’t you take me with you?” Your words are fragile, even to your own ears. Please tell me it was because you didn’t have enough money. Please say that it’s because you were in a rush. 

“That night was chaos,” Suguru admits. “Satoru was downright unconsolable, so it was up to me to purchase the tickets, to pack everything we wanted to take into two bags, to book the hotels and make appointments to find apartments.” He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the piercing ice forming in your veins at the expression. 

“But you had enough money to afford a third.” 

“Yes and no. Realistically, we maybe could have, but, to subject you to the conditions we would have been in?” 

Angrily, you swipe the tears away from your face. “You still should have asked.”

Suguru’s eyes are impossibly tender. “I know you, my beautiful, stubborn girl. I knew that if I gave you that plane ticket, you would have followed us no matter what you truly wanted. I was willing to make the sacrifice. How could I have asked you to do the same?” 

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” 

“Call me selfish, then. Call me controlling, or foolish, or stubborn, but I will never regret ensuring your safety. I will never regret the fact that you were not subjected to the struggles we faced there, the things we had to do to survive. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” You feel nauseous, stomach twisting violently into knots. The lies taste so sweet, but the truth is something that you accepted long ago. “Subjecting me to what? Your lifestyle? What struggles do you face when you have so much money that you don’t know what to do with it?” 

Satoru begins to protest, but you hold out your hand, silencing him as you watch Suguru. The betrayal of him cut deeper than you’d care to admit. Satoru might be cocky, but it is Suguru’s hand that holds the trigger, his hand that sealed your fate. “I know you,” you tell him. “I know you, and I know when you lie. Lie to me one more time and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that I never see you again.”  

“There is no lie-” 

“You don’t do that to the people you love!” 

“I did it out of love, why can’t you see that?” 

“No, shut up!” Your hands are shaking, teeth gritted as you try to stop the rush of angry tears that threaten to escape you. “You don’t get to act like I’m the person in the wrong here. You two, of all people, don’t get to treat me like this.” The sun is setting, harsh shadows casted onto Suguru’s hunched shoulders as if it is a load that is physically too much for him to bear. The words spilling from your mouth are sharp, desperate to make them bleed in the same way they’d hurt you. “You can’t tell me you love me, or that you missed me, when you left me here for five years. I was alone for five years, and for the first three, I thought something had happened to you two. Do you know how scared I was?”

Satoru reaches for you, but you shove his hands away. “I had to find out from a fucking television broadcast. I had to find out about Satoru’s debut through a television broadcast, and I had to hear your voice coming from the radio instead of through the phone. For three years, you let me fear the worst, and now you’re acting as if I’m crazy? You’re upset to find me bitter when you’ve treated me like a toy you can return to, and throw away when you’re bored? You made me this way!”

 Suguru closes his eyes. “I will never stop regretting how I’ve hurt you, my love. I knew how badly you wanted to get out of this town, to go to college and make your mark on the world. We didn’t know that…” 

We didn’t know that you’d still be here.  

“Maybe if you’d bothered to find me, you would’ve known.” 

“Please don’t blame Suguru for it.” Satoru’s voice is tired, as he runs his hands down his face. “Suguru might have been the one who handled our move, but I was the coward in the end.” 

Impressively, your heart manages to shatter into even smaller pieces. You can only gaze blankly at him as he continues. “I’m sure you’ve suspected it by now, but when we left, Suguru and I were dating. We still are. You know how it is where we’re from, where we are.” He curls in on himself imperceptibly, a star ready to implode. “I knew my parents were bad, but I didn’t know they were that bad. The thought of you looking at me, at Suguru, the same way they looked at us– I couldn’t.” 

You can’t help the almost hysterical laughter that tears through you. “Are you serious? That was your reason?” 

Satoru stares at you as you cover your face with a hand. You’re afraid that if you don’t keep going, you’ll start screaming instead. “Of course I knew,” you choke out, half-laughing and half-sobbing. “Suguru’s neck would be all marked up every time you two hung out without me, and Satoru suddenly stopped flirting with every girl that wanted to sleep with him. Just because everyone else was stupid and in denial, doesn’t mean that I was.” 

“You never said anything.” Suguru gazes up at you, eyes horrified. 

“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would just tell me.” 

“You always looked so uncomfortable.”

“Because I was jealous!” Your words hang in the air, and in this moment, for better or for worse, you know that there is no going back. “I thought I was losing my mind. I was jealous of both of you for having the other, and I hated myself for it. What kind of sick friend was I, to be selfish enough to not only desire one of you, but both of you at the same time?” You shake your head, wishing that it could be enough to remove the feelings from your heart that you had been clinging onto for so long. “When you left, I missed you. I thought it would go away. I hoped it would go away. Who else would be stupid enough to love the people who abandoned them?” 

The words pour from your mouth, acidic with your pain and despair. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you two? Why was it so easy for you to move on, while I was stuck here wasting away? Was it really that hard for me to be loved by you? I was there too!” 

“Darling,” Suguru says, stumbling over the syllables of his words. “You loved us?” 

You have to fight the visceral urge to slap him across his painfully beautiful face. “That’s what you took away from this?” 

“I dreamed of this for so long,” Satoru tells you roughly, delicate fingers tilting up your chin. An interviewer had once said that Satoru’s eyes seemed so cold and distant. You feel like he was trying to burn you alive as he examines you. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Are both of you out of your mind?” you snap, rearing back. Satoru’s resulting chuckle floods your face with heat as he gives you a lazy, predatory smile. “Only for you, sweetheart.” 

“What Satoru is trying to say,” Suguru interjects, dazed, “is that we didn’t think you felt the same way.” Same way? You feel lightheaded, as if you’re not quite there. Same way? 

He continues on as Satoru leans against the wall, content to watch your reactions. “I, we, just assumed that you…I don’t know. We…” 

“How could I not?” you ask, voice breaking. “How could I not love both of you?” 

Before you can even react, Satoru is surging towards you, arms pressing you closer into his body as he holds you tightly. “You mean it?” he asks, voice uncharacteristically desperate. Needy for you, as he greedily savors the feeling of you in his arms. You can only nod, one hand twisting into the back of his sweater as you bury yourself into the slight hollow where his collarbone meets his shoulder. 

“Please,” Suguru breathes, taking your hand into his, rough fingers curling around the back of your hand as he strokes your palm with his thumb. “I know things aren’t going to be the same. We’re okay with that, we just…” He swallows, thickly, before pushing forward. “We just want to make things right, take things slow, and maybe then you can learn to love us again.” 

Gently, you pull yourself away from Satoru’s grasp. “It’ll be hard,” you admit, tugging Suguru up off the floor and towards you. “But, we’ll make it through.” A slight smile tugs on your lips, the sincerity bleeding through into the softness of your eyes. “Besides, I don’t need to learn how to love you two again.” 

“Especially because I never stopped.” 

Later, you’ll realize the depth of the Gojo’s betrayal to their son. Later, there will be just as many kisses as there are tears, plans to be made, and boxes to be packed. But for now, all you can feel is the overwhelming warmth in your heart as you finally allow yourself to be hugged by two of the people you adored most in the world. 

Welcome home. I love you. 

[storiesbyjes2g]

👀

What is this about you say? Stay tuned!

Thanks to @trumpets0ng and @ladybugsimblr for letting me use your sims' credentials lol. Walker Pearson from Jett Studios (trumpet) was the photographer, and Alex Greene (LB) was the author. He also wrote Bailey Kay's article.

(transcript under the cut)

A well-dressed man walked into the studio, swaggy and confident, with more drip than a coffee pot. His perfectly tailored suit glimmered under the stage lights, looking just as expensive as one would imagine it to be. My initial thought upon seeing this cat with a larger than life personality was, “Oh, great. Here comes another industry brat.” Then, he walked up to my assistant, smiled, extended his hand, and said, “Hi! I’m Orange.” That’s when I knew I’d been completely wrong about him.

I started off slow.

ALEX: How’ve you been? How’s life treating you?

ORANGE: Life is wonderful, thanks for asking.

I’m excited about my baby sister being back on the west coast! She wanted to spread her wings and moved east; that’s where she met and married her guy. But she’s a mom now, and my parents are getting old, so she’s back. I can’t wait to spend time with my nephew and get to know my brother-in-law better.

ALEX: Wow, okay. It’s always nice to have the family close. So where have you been all this time, my man?

He leaned back into the sofa with a huge sigh and a smile.

ORANGE: Where have I been… I’ve been everywhere, man!

ALEX: Oh word?

ORANGE: Yeah, man. I pride myself on not being a prideful person…which is probably the most proud thing I could say.

He laughs at his own joke, wiping fake sweat away from his brow. And all at once, he had me. I was sucked into his energy.

ORANGE: I appreciate everything my parents did for me, but I was never interested in following in their footsteps.

ALEX: Never?

ORANGE: Not really. I was kinda artsy as a kid. I can sing, but I never had a passion for it. Don’t get me wrong…I’m a gregarious kind of guy, so I wanted to be in the public. Just not doing what my parents did.

ALEX: So what did you do?

ORANGE: Whatever I could. I didn’t want it said of me that my life was handed to me, so I moved out, got a crappy apartment, and worked as a barista for a while. People told me I was funny, so I started writing sketches and going to the comedy clubs.

ALEX: And then sim.TV called.

Laughter erupts, startling everyone on set. It’s loud and hearty and sounds like that uncle at the family barbeque.

ORANGE: It didn’t exactly happen that way, but yes…eventually. I honestly don’t know what happened. I’m guessing someone just happened to be at one of my shows and thought I would be a good fit for this new talk show they were planning.

ALEX: What does this mean for you?

ORANGE: Wow… This means… It’s so validating. I’m middle-aged now, and all my peers are off doing so many amazing things. It was really hard to resist the urge to go to my parents and ask for help. But the thing that kept me going was this moment right here. I knew that if I stayed the course, eventually something would happen, and I would have an immense feeling of pride. And I do.

ALEX: That’s so dope. So, tell us about the show.

ORANGE: It’s called “The Pulse,” and it’s all about keeping you entertained and informed about what’s going on in the entertainment world.

ALEX: So you’re keeping your finger on the pulse of the industry.

ORANGE: You get it. I’m so grateful for the opportunity because it’s so perfect for me. I grew up around it. I know all dirty secrets, but I also recognize and respect the beauty in it.

ALEX: So from your interviews, should we expect to get a different perspective of celebrity life?

ORANGE: I hope so. I don’t want to be just another talk show host, asking the same tired questions. One thing I want to do differently is get the audience involved. Everyone watching has their own reasons for being interested in someone, so if there’s something they want to know, I’d like to give them the answers.

ALEX: Okay! I like that. Kinda like, power to the people.

ORANGE: Exactly.

ALEX: So, why Nick?

ORANGE: Why not Nick? He’s the hottest thing smoking right now, and he’s not even working. I’m trying to get on his level! But seriously though, I think we’d vibe well. We’re similar in our values and ways of working, and I don’t think he’s ever done a TV interview before, so I think it’s fitting that he be my first guest.

ALEX: Best of luck to you, man. Thanks for sitting down with us.

[tastesousweet]

frat boy chris x bitchy reader blurb . . .

had the urge to write again and drabbled up this concept

warnings: toxic dynamic (:0), mentions of sex & alcohol, characters not in an official relationship!

at times it can feel like chris has some sort of alert that screams and announces your presence at one of his parties, with the way that he ends up finding you almost immediately every time.

this time you've got your upper body leant against a wall, fiddling with the wet label of the black cherry seltzer you hold against your chest as you gaze up at some guy who’s talking to you with those pretty fucking eyes.

and just like that you’ve irked him. with the way your smooth teeth peek out every once in a while to bite at or mess with your full, glossed lips; you’re giving this guy every sign in the world that you want him. chris almost wishes he was naive enough to not know you’re only using this guy as your own pawn to get his attention- as if it was that fucking hard. this was your own form of foreplay, or “to keep things interesting” as you often would say.

so he waits it out, letting you play with whatever man you’ve got your eye on at the moment just to swoop in and have you to himself by the end of the night. he tries to stay coy and keep his composure especially when his frat brothers give him shit for it, spewing phrases like “dudeee, saw your girl’s here- she’s like eye-fucking the hell outta some guy but here nonetheless, right?” with a laugh and clap to chris’ shoulder. to which chris would mumble a dry response.

chris tries to find the humor in this situation, i mean how could he not? it’s actually quite hilarious to him that you strut around his house and all over this campus as if you’re anything above him- as if you only tolerate him out of some sort of pity. yet, more times than not you’re the one showing up at his house or inviting him into your campus apartment in the earliest hours of the morning. you’re the one urging him to never stop when he’s got your pretty face shoved into one of your pink pillows and his hips snapping against you. so, while chris is easily jealous of these men, he’s never quick to anger. these guys don’t stand a chance, you’d never give them what you give chris. these guys you play around with will never get the dirty polaroid pictures you sneak into chris’ back pocket while you kiss him goodbye at your door, or the satisfaction that he gets when he finally convinces you to let him interrupt your study session only for him to get carried away, focused on playing with your clit rather than calling out the cursive key terms written on your flashcards to help with your studying.

he only continues to take irritating sips from his, now room-temperature, can of beer (the same can of beer he’d cracked open at the start of the night; it’s rare to find chris moving onto a second drink before you’ve arrived. he’d much prefer to wait for you to show up so that you’d get drunk simultaneously especially now that he knows how much you dislike dealing with him when he’s drunk and “messily clinging onto you”) while focusing on your conversation with that man who’s way too close to you. he’s completely unaware of the pissed look on his face as he watches you nod your head, eyes glancing up and down the guy’s figure whenever you want to make his (and chris’) head spin. chris can almost see the idea come to your filthy brain before you slowly reach into your back pocket and reveal a small lollipop.

you remove its plastic cover, placing the wrapper into the front pocket of the man's blue jeans. chris can see your mouth form the words, "thank you" as you remove your hand from his pocket, grazing your fingers over his zipper and brass button before leaning back against the wall.

chris adjusts himself in the seat of his unsteady barstool, glancing around him with his lip tucked in anticipation. though his eyes narrow when you softly plunge the sucker into your mouth with your innocent demeanor, rolling it over your tongue to coat it in a thin layer of your saliva, before your lips form a slow pucker around it as you free it from your mouth.

chris draws his fingers around his lips out of habit, watching you ask "wanna taste?" to the blonde. then he's rolling his eyes at the eager head nod the idiot gives you and the way you smile and meet his mouth halfway to place the pink candy on his tongue. he looks between the two of you as you share a long moment of eye contact. you only move to stand on your tiptoes and whisper something sweetly sexy into his ear like you always do. the guy's face only turns extra red when you kiss his cheek and give him a flutter of your fingers in dismissal.

chris gives you a few moments alone to check your phone and such before he's walking over to bother you and your space.

he approaches while you’re focused on reapplying your lip gloss in the hallway mirror, "whoring around my house gets kinda embarrassing after a while don’cha think?” the musk of chris’ voice bleeds through your hair and into your ear over the loud music and party ambiance.

you give a sigh of annoyance as you glance in the mirror from your own lips to his all too familiar face tucked close to your skull. you rub your lips together and purse them before twisting the slim tube closed again, “mmm… not really, but you coming to bitch and whine about it is possibly one of the most embarrassing and predictable things you do, don’cha think, honey?”

you turn your head so that you’re face to face, giving him a condescending smile as you smooth your hand over the stubble on his jaw. he only runs his tongue over his teeth in slight defeat while staring into your eyes.

“s’not cute, honey. fix your act, y’grossin’ me out at my own fucking party.” he grits his teeth, baiting you.

your grin widens at his audacity, squishing his cheeks a little to push his lips out awkwardly, “chris… who the hell are you talkin’ to like that?”

when he hears a few people begin to turn down the hall he snatches your hand from his face embarrassingly fast, backing away a little when you scowl at him.

and just as he expected, a few bumbling idiots come prancing down the hall not sparing either of you a glance as they rush down towards the basement in search of a bathroom.

“‘kay, are you done taunting me? i wanna go dance.” you cross your arms.

“taunting? baby, when was i tauntin’ you? last time i checked you were putting on a show- havin’ lollipop sex with randoms and shit.” the way chris voice descends from concern to mockery almost makes you want to give him head right here. almost, you don’t give it up that easy.

“aw, you saw that? would’ve done so much more if i knew i had an audience, especially as handsome as you…” you pout.

“you’re a twisted bitch,” chris laughs to himself, shaking his head.

“okay, let’s not get into the name calling. we don’t want to hurt each other’s feelings now, would we?” you stretch your arms out and around his neck, pulling him both physically and mentally back to you with a smile on your face.

he bites at his lip and pretends to think, “nahh, you’re right. just ran through the entire conversation in my head and it ended bad.”

“mmm, see i told you.” you smile at him.

“right. it’s always you tellin’ me. okay, gimme a kiss, please? i need it and deserve it,” chris pleads, bringing you closer by the small of your back.

“deserve it? m’kay…” you joke before you give in. with the way his eyes are so dreamy in this dim lighting and his voice is so scratchy yet soft; you both about eat each other’s faces during that never ending kiss.

- y/n is legit a male manipulator but i support women’s wrongs tf !

[moondirti]

Ooh your writing has a grip on me. In the new chapter of ghoap x nanny reader, I noticed the blanket went from partially covering her to fully covering her from the time Johnny first opened the camera to when Simon got him off. It’s a small detail, but it’s one intentionally included, and I was wondering what the intent behind the detail is? Is she uncomfortable (which is understandable in that situation even if she is attracted to the guys too), or does she think she has to cover up because the guys think she is inappropriate?

Would love to hear your thoughts, but completely understand if you don’t to answer this. No matter what, I am grateful to read everything you give us!

it’s a mixture of both tbh! or whatever you want it to mean, depending on how dark you wanna go.

in my head, she isn’t used to having her mere existence sexualised, so it’s cause for unease when she realises that it could be perceived that way. like she’s just chilling in her pjs trying to enjoy her book, not trying to tempt or tease, yet there are men halfway across the world tugging their dicks to the sight and it puts her in an incredibly awkward situation. ‘will they think i’m intentionally being inappropriate? do i have to apologise for something?’ sort of thing. it’s kinda of grim when you think about it though, which is why i say you can choose to believe what you want! maybe she just covered herself in an instinctual reaction, or to hide the way her thighs press against each other lol. to each their own :)

thank you so much for reading<3

[reverie-starlight]

{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

[vettelsvee]

... READY FOR IT? | Charles Leclerc

MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT REPUTATION ⋆ TRACK 1

charles leclerc x reader ⋆ smau

summary: y/n finally decides she’s ready to make her relationship with charles public even people just hate her so much for her past dating other f1 drivers. 

taglist: [@celemilii @theseerbetweenus @anniee-mr @stelena-klayley @lozzamez3 @0710khj @afterg1ows @vincentvanshoe @coco-loco-nut @minkyungseokie @lemon-lav @stinkyjax @seokjinkismet @c-losur3 @annewithaneofthegreengable @khaylin27] thanks to all of you who wanted to be tagged! don't forget you can join my taglist by commenting or telling me through dm <3

a/n: i was supposed to start posting this on june 1st, but since we reached 500 followers here i wanted to start posting as a "celebration". i really don't like thinking about thing kind of things BUT i thought this was a special occasion, especially since you've received me really well here. thank you so much to you all who take time to read my works! i've never thought someone would read what i write tbh this is my very first smau so sorry if it's a little bit crap, i promise to improve for the next ones 🙏

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

y/n just posted

y/n we're sooooo back on track (for the third time, yes! idgaf what you all have to say 🥰)

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 376193 others

user1 wait wasn't she dating mick schumacher? what is she doing in the ferrari garage?

user2 that was during 2021 season. she broke up with him and then started dating lando back in july 2022 if i remember correctly

f1gossip yep! in 2021 she dated mick, in 2022, lando, and now seems like she put her eyes on one of the ferrari guys 👀

user3 what a bitch. she's fucking everyone to get fame or...?

yourbestfriend go on girlie! show your amour your support 😌

y/n yourbestfriend what a stupid action... fuck you

user4 y/n are you going home? because that's what you should be doing lol

user5 guys I know that y/n might not be a piece of cake for everyone, but PLEASE, respect her

user7 exactly this!

charles_leclerc ❤️

user10 charles explain?

user11 wdym A READ HEART

user12 she might be dating charles omg

carlossainz55 happy to have you finally here! ❤️🙌🏻

user13 NOW CARLOS? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY GUYS? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

comments on this post have been limited

y/n just posted

y/n since you seem so interested, yep: i'm on the ferrari garage f1 are you spilling the tea? cos I'm not. xoxo, your friendly neighborhood wag

comments on this post have been disabled

y/n just posted

y/n i was scared af to tell you that french dude and i've been dating for the past seven months. you can call me whore or whatever you want because at this point i don't really care about anything. it's been a wild ride with me feeling soooo uncomfortable with you commenting every now and then about my past relationships. i love mick and i love lando, but sometimes things don't work out, and you don't seem to understand that. anyways, all I have to say is that charles makes me the happiest woman on earth, and that we don't apologize for winning ❤️💋

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charles_leclerc just posted

charles_leclerc life in these past seven months has been insane. y/n, bet your ready for more but... are you ready for it?

[thelesbododo]

This is a headcanon circulating around a sensitive topic and one that you may not agree with so if you don't want to read it please scroll.

This headcanon revolves around the character Osamu Dazai and the concept of sexual assault

I believe that Dazai was sexually assaulted as a child

This has nothing to do with Mori and takes place long before they even meet

While it is true we know little to nothing of BSD Dazai's past, it is also true that it is highly likely the Irl author and his No Longer Human counterpart was SA'd

There are two specific pieces of writing are evidence of this

"My true nature, however, was one diametrically opposed to the role of the mischievous imp. Already by that time I had been taught a lamentable thing by the maids and manservants; I was being corrupted. I now think that to perpetrate such a thing on a small child is the ugliest, vilest, cruelest crime a human being can commit. But I endured it. I even felt as if it enabled me to see one more particular aspect of human beings. I smiled in my weakness. If I had formed the habit of telling the truth I might perhaps have been able to confide unabashedly to my father or mother about the crime, but I could not fully understand even my own parents. To appeal for help to any human being - I could expect nothing from that expedient. Supposing I complained to my father or my mother, or to the police, the government - I wondered if in the end I would not be argued into silence by someone in good graces with the world, by the excuses of which the world approved.It is only too obvious that favoritism inevitably exists: it would have been useless to complain to human beings. So I said nothing of the truth. I felt I had no choice but to endure whatever came my way and go on playing the clown"

- No Longer Human

"I ceased being a child soon after entering grade school. It was then that my younger brother’s nurse taught me something that took my breath away. It was a beautiful summer day, and the grass by the vacant house out back had grown tall and dense. I must have been about seven, and my brother’s nurse could not have been more than thirteen or fourteen. My brother was three years younger than I, and the nurse shooed him off. She said, ‘Go get some leaf grass’ - that’s our word for clover back home. Then she added, ‘And make sure it’s got four leaves too.’ After he left, she put her arms around me and we started rolling around in the tall grass. Thereafter we would play our secret little game in the storehouse or in one of the closets."

- Memories

Both No Longer Human and Memories are semi-autobiographies, meaning they're somewhat based in truth

I can't speak from experience but SA has a big effect on the lives of the survivors

Some of thes effects include;

Sleeping or Eating disorders

Dazai canoniclly has issues sleeping and there are scenes that imply he has issues with and/or doesn't see the point in eating, at one point saying that it is "so much trouble"

Nightmares

There is a specific scene within one kf the light novels where Kunikida asks if Dazai has nightmares.

(Unfortunately I can't find the exact moment so I can't quote it so if anyone can find it please let me know)

Self-hatred

It might not be clearly stated that he hates himself but ay the same time its rather clear that he does

Suicidal thoughts or self-harm

He is a suicidal maniac

Riskier sexual behaviors such as having many partners

He canoniclly has had quite a lot of lovers

Substance abuse

The one scene we see of his apartment we see that there is more alcohol than furniture (it's also a popular hc that Dazai smokes which makes sense considering his past with the pm and that irl author smoked)

Another moment to mention was when he seduced the nurse (which technically counted as SA too but that's not the point of this)

I'm probably gonna end it here because it's late and I'm tired but anyone willing to add or correct anything please go ahead and I hoped you enjoyed my hc

[starlight-write]

Hello!!

I'm not sure if you can write it, I would be very happy if you write it.

I want ler alastor and lee Lucifer and Charlie.

I don't know, he might be in Alastor mode and want to catch the two of them (of course, with his tentacles, otherwise how can he fight them alone) he may make fun of "the king and heir of hell is quite ticklish" but I especially want Lee to outweigh Lucifer.

I hope you write

Royal Weakness

A/N: First of all, thank you so much to everyone who voted in the poll and to everyone who sent in their requests! I will admit this one was a bit of a challenge for me and I was on crunch time while writing it but figured I needed to get something out for y'all sometime this year lol. So yeah, not proof read and extremely rushed but hope you enjoy anyways!! <3

Relationships: Ler!Alastor, Lee!Charlie, Lee!Lucifer

Word Count: 2117

Summary: Charlie makes a bet with her father that lands them both into trouble.

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Charlie let out a scream as the tendril lifted her off the ground.

The princess had made a break for it, hoping to escape her smiling friend after he made it clear he was done with her bullshit.

The demon had no clue what had gotten into her but she had been following him around all morning hellbent on testing his patience. First it was the constant yapping, random pokes, random questions, hugging him almost every other minute. It wasn't long before Alastor retreated into his tower to get away from that wide-eyed pest.

The last thing he expected was for her to follow him in there. God, she was behaving like some snot-nosed toddler in an antique store. Bombarding him with a million questions as she put her grubby little hands on whatever she could reach.

What's worse is that he knew what she was trying to do. He'd known the girl long enough by now to decipher what her intentions were at any given moment and in that moment, it was crystal clear that she was fucking with him.

Unfortunately for him, Charlie also knew him well enough to know exactly how to push his buttons.

The demon was about to give into her game and share a laugh, he really was. Until she brought up his nemesis.

"This place could use some touching up." Charlie smiled as she dragged a finger on the table and inspected it for dust. "Y'know, I'd figured you'd pick up a thing or two about maintenance from your little bestie. Seeing as you go out of your way to impress him."

Alastor froze. "My what now?"

"Your best friend, Vox?" She grinned, knowing she had won. "I mean seeing how close the two of you are I'd hope he would rub off on you a bit. It's obvious that you look up to him and all, it's very sweet- AAAAH!"

Yeah THAT was the last straw.

Alastor finally snapped and exploded into his demon form that filled the room. That was when Charlie made a break for the door only to be swept up by her feet by one of the demon's tendrils.

The princess hung upside down and couldn't help but laugh at the reaction she'd managed to pull from her friend.

Alastor, however, was not laughing. God he was pissed. It wasn't even noon yet and this brat had somehow managed to make him lose every morsel of composure he'd carefully sustained over the years. Only for her to laugh in his face once she got the reaction she wanted. Yeah, this is why Alastor never had kids.

"Oh, this is funny to you?" He growled, smiling angrily down at her. Which only seemed to make her laugh even harder.

The demon shrank back into his normal form. Breathing deeply as he regained his composure. Though still clearly pissed off.

As much as he hated to admit it, he appreciated his friend's mischievous behavior at times. Hell, most of the time he would play along with it and direct her antics towards any other demon in the hotel. It's always fun being on the other side of the joke, and no one really expects to be blind-sided by the same girl who farted sunshine and rainbows. But jeez she really knew how to work someone's nerves.

Alastor didn't want to hurt her even if he could. Of course not, she was one of his dearest friends at this point. But that didn't mean she was going to get away with this.

"Okay, sunshine." The demon hissed through his smile. "You want to laugh? I'll give you something to laugh about."

Alastor relished the split second that smirk was wiped off her face before it was replaced by the girls hysterical screams.

Charlie shrieked and thrashed violently as she felt the demon's claws scribble rapidly on the backs of her knees.

"NO-! NO- AL-AAAAAHAHAHA!!! WAIT!- NO-WAIT PLEHEHEEEHAHAHAAAAA!!!"

Another tendril came up to hold the girls arms together as he blindly flailed around. Charlie was ridiculously ticklish enough as it is, barely ever lasting a minute before being thrown into silent laughter. So needless to say, Alastor going straight for her death spot was just down right cruel.

"STOOP-!!! STOPSTOPSTOP PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!"

Tears began to form in her eyes as that horrible tingly feeling spread throughout her body. To lost in her hysterics to even beg the other for mercy.

Alastor was far from finished, but could tell the girl needed a breather. Stopping for a moment to pace around the room as his friend dangled upside down and caught her breath.

"Heavens, you don't understand how lucky you are that we're friends." He growled, still pacing back and forth in an attempt at releasing some of his energy. "I've torn apart souls for far less than half of what you've put me through today, so congratulations. Consider yourself blessed that you're to ridiculously sensitive for me to take all my anger out on you at once, otherwise we'd be here all day!"

Charlie didn't dare laugh at this point in fear of provoking the man again. Even upside down, she could feel his eyes prying at her, no doubt to gauge when she's had enough oxygen to continue his little torture session. She wondered if this is what it was like to be a victim of one of his broadcasts. God, she prayed he wouldn't get the idea to broadcast this as well.

The demon stalked back over to her once he's decided she's had enough time to recover.

Charlie panicked. Her mind racing to come up with anything that could pull her out of the grave she'd dug for herself. Maybe if she could just deflect the blame he'd leave her alone...?

"It was dad's idea!" She blurted out.

The deer stopped in his tracks. Silence filling the room as the two stared at one another.

Charlie fell to the floor as the tendrils holding her in place suddenly disappeared. She pushed herself up off the ground, knees still a bit wobbly from leftover tingles. Brushing herself off as she regained her senses.

"His idea?" Charlie hesitated, not so sure now if she had just made the situation better or worse.

"Umm...yeah?" She admitted sheepishly. "I- uh...I made a bet."

Alastor felt his eye twitch but stayed silent and let her continue.

"Yeah, so the deal was that if I could get you to snap before noon he'd take Vaggie and I out for lunch. Apparently he thinks it's really funny when you're mad, plus he knew you wouldn't hurt me but I'm not so sure it's worth it anymore." Charlie gave a nervous laugh.

The demon stared at her for a moment, watching her fidget nervously as he thought up new recipes for angel wings.He took a deep breath and gave his friend a sweet smile.

"Well, congratulations on winning your little bet dear." He said, patting her head sweetly. "I do hope you all enjoy your little outing, hopefully it'll be worth all the trouble it caused you."

Charlie scratched the back of her head nervously and avoided his gaze. "Yeah. Sorry about all of that. Guess I just got carried away. No hard feeling, right?"

"Oh not at all, dear!" Alastor grinned. "Trust me, I understand going to great lengths in order to win a bet. Although, I can't say I think it's all that fair that I took my anger out of you instead of the person who put you in this situation in the first place."

Charlie looked at him confused. "What do you mean?"

Alastor laughed. "I mean, it's only fair that your father suffer the same consequences you endured. Seeing that he had just as much of a hand in this as yourself."

The girl smiled, recognizing her friend's playful tone. "Ooooh. Haha, sounds good to me if it lets me off the hook. Just don't hurt him, deal?"

"Deal."

A few moments later...

It was half passed noon when Lucifer heard his phone ring. Charlie had texted him to meet her in her bedroom for details.

The king excitedly teleported to his destination, politely knocking first before being told to come in.

The man couldn't see a thing upon opening the door. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off making the room pitch black.

He squinted his eyes as he felt the wall for the light switch but just as he reached it, a hand snatched his arm and yanked him into the room. The door slammed shut behind him and he was thrown into complete darkness.

"Uh, Charlie?" He called out and jumped when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind.

"It's me! It's me." Charlie laughed, still hugging her father.

"Oh jeez, kiddo Don't scare me like that." He laughed. "What's going on? Why ya got all the lights off?"

"No reason." She laughed.

Yeah something was up.

"I won the bet by the way." She continued. "But I did run into a bit of trouble with Alastor after he finally snapped. And I maaaaay or may not have sold you out."

"What happened?! Did he hurt you? I swear I'll kill that prick if he so much as-AAH!!!" The king was cut off as he felt another set of hands place themselves on his sides.

"Not exactly." The voice said in front of him.

Lucifer's eyes had adjusted just enough to make out that red prick in front of him but before he had the chance to cuss him out, the demon began rapidly squeezing his sides.

He managed to hold in his laughter as he struggled to free his arms as Charlie moved them behind his back. Still holding him tight in her traitorous 'hug'.

"What the fuhuhuck are you two doing?!"

"You got sold out." Alastor chimed as he began kneeding his thighs. "Poor Charlie had to suffer the consequences of making me lose my temper, an impressive feet might I add, and spilled everything about your little bet."

"Sorry dad, my hands were tied. Alastor tickled me for so long I almost passed out." She laughed apologetically.

"You lasted a minute and a half, I counted." Alastor corrected and Charlie was grateful no one could see her face grow red.

Meanwhile Lucifer was not listening to any of this, to focused on keeping his laughter in as those claws continued to pinch up and down his legs no matter how hard he kicked.

A moment passed and the King was still holding out much to the demon's annoyance. Charlie was honestly giggling more than her father was.

Alastor looked up at his friend. "Say Charlie, do you think bad knees run in the family?"

Charlie stuttered a bit and felt her face grow hot again. "I-I uh-no! I mean...I don't know."

The demon shrugged as he fought to get a grip on the angel's thrashing legs. "Well, only one way to find out I suppose." And with that, he began scribbling his claws on the back of one of Lucifer's knees just as he's done to Charlie earlier.

"AAAAAAHHH!!! AAAHAHAHAHA- QUIHIHIT!!! QUIHIHIT IT YOU AAHAHAHA-!"

"I guess it does!" Alastor laughed triumphantly.

A few more minutes of this passed by, Lucifer handling the torture a lot better than his daughter had.

Charlie was sure Alastor could go on all night, but she was promised a nice outing with her father and girfriend plus her arms were getting tired.

"Okay, Alastor I think that's enough."

"Oh Dear, I was just warming up!" The demon pouted. "Very well. I suppose he's had his fill." And with that Charlie released the grip she had on the other angel, carefully following him to the floor as he caught his breath.

"You..." Lucifer huffed and pointed to the radio demon. "Are so dead."

Charlie looked a bit startled at her father's tone and quickly gave Alastor the signal to run.

He wasn't fazed in the slightest, of course.

"Yes, yes. You can maim me all you like but i do believe you promised Charlie a nice little outing did you not?" He smiled.

Lucifer huffed as Charlie helped him to his feet.

"You're lucky Charlie considers your dumbass a friend." He shot back.

The demon gave a satisfied hum before waving the two off and disappearing into the shadows.

And yes, the rest of the evening was lovely. The three angels enjoyed their time together outside the hotel for once. But Lucifer couldn't help but think of all the ways he was going to get back at the demon when the time had come. He was a man of his word, after all.

[zombiigrll]

JUST FRIENDS, RIGHT? ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 998 ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ fluff, friends to lovers, use of y/n, reader is maggies sister, just cute wholesome moments<3 .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ thank you all SO MUCH for the love on lonely OH MY GODDD i was not expecting that much traction for my first story! it was literally my first ever tumblr post ever too thats insane o_O i literally have like 0 idea how tumblr works it took me forever to write lonely because i had NO CLUE WHAT I WAS DOINGG if you have any tips let me know im so desperate anyways thank you all so much for the support it means sososo much!! <333 ───────────────────────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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you and carl had been best friends since the farm. after carl and his group arrived, the two of you had been just.. drawn to each other. you were there for him after he was shot in the side, despite not knowing him. ever since then, the two of you were inseparable. years had passed and you guys were now living in alexandria. after being in that safe space and finally feeling secure, you had more time to tend to your thoughts. one of those thoughts being the new feeling you were getting in your abdomen whenever you were around carl. he could be doing anything, smiling, laughing, whatever. it just made you feel something you had never felt before. something you couldn't describe. but that was challenged shortly after you guys settled into alexandria and carl had told you he had a crush on enid. "hey, can i tell you something?" carl asked, setting down his comic book and looking over at you. you looked up from your own comic and into his baby blue eyes. "yeah, 'course. what's up?" "i... i think i like enid." your heart dropped at his words. "oh." you softly responded, trying to hide how upset you were with a smile. "that's... nice." god, you wanted to explode right there. but you had to be supportive for your best friend, even if you had... some sort of feelings for him. ever since then, you tried your best to pretend you didn't like him. he never got with enid due to ron and her being together, but you didn't want to ruin his moment. you wanted to be there for him. you ignored the tightening feeling in your chest whenever he smiled at you and eventually, you were so caught up in this lie that part of you believed you were over him. sure, you still got those butterflies in your stomach whenever he hugged you, but it couldn't be love anymore, right? well, you were wrong. all of those feelings of love were confirmed after ron had shot him in the eye, which made you realize you couldn't lose him. he came so close to death, and you knew you couldn't live without him. you stayed with him throughout his recovery, and despite him being insecure, he let you stay. i mean, the two of you had been in this situation before back at the farm. you had to be there for him. after a while, carl had recovered, now rocking an eyepatch across his right eye and being able to function properly again through his physical therapy. and you were there with him throughout the entire thing. after carls recovery, the two of you had found an area in the woods for the two of you to have quiet alone time. as friends. just friends, right? today, you couldn't focus. you were so overwhelmed by the knot in your stomach as you watched him read his comics. your eyes went from his hat to his icy blue eye, then his hands, then back into his eye, which was now looking back at you. "are you okay?" he asked, causing you to come back to your senses.

"i.. yeah. i'm good." you awkwardly looked away.

"are you sure? you were staring at me." carl chuckles, setting down his comic book next to him and sitting up to look back at you properly.

"i'm good. perfect, even." you reassured him, but the blush on your face said otherwise.

carl moves closer to you, sitting right in front of you. now, your guys' faces are inches apart from each other.

"you know you can tell me anything, right?" carl softly speaks, smiling down at you as you move your hands up to covered your tomato-like face. he moves his hands up to yours and moves your hands off of your face.

"why're you so nervous?" he rubbed his thumb over your hands as he waited for your answer. you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, which caused him to bring a hand up to your chin and move your face back towards him.

your faces had the slightest gap between each other.

he smirked down at you before closing the gap between you two, kissing you softly.

you were caught off guard, more surprised than ever. your stomach was doing flips as you leaned into the kiss, but after a bit, you moved away.

"wait, but..." your facial expression changed to confused as you processed everything. "you said you liked enid."

"wh.. oh." he averted his eyes. "...would you be mad if i told you i just kinda.. said that to say it?"

"are you serious?!" you yelled. you weren't really angry, and it was apparent in your voice. "theres no way. no. you told me you liked her so confidently. you only didn't get together because of ron, but ron's.. y'know."

"y/n." carl put one of his hands on your shoulder. "i said it because i knew you liked me. and.. i didn't want you to."

"what?"

"i don't like enid. i like you. i was just... i was just nervous that i'd hurt you somehow." he explained.

"i think it hurt more hearing you liked another girl than anything else." you scoffed with a smile.

"i meant, i didn't want to be a jerk or something. i've never dated anyone before, i didn't know what i was doing. i mean, i still don't know what i'm doing, but..."

you cut him off with another quick kiss, moving your hand up to his jawline. you pull away shortly after, smirking at his dumbfounded facial expression and reddened face.

"...did you kiss me just to make me shut up?" he rose his eyebrow with a laugh.

"ha, no..." you rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a tight hug, which he returned shortly after.

he rested his head in the crook of your neck. "i'm glad we don't have to pretend anymore."

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[hiskillingjar]

i am so obsessed with ur writing 🩷 this is actually really tame but i feel weird requesting it lol. could i get ren (or anyone really) with a reader who has a small chest (boobs? breasts? tits??). havent felt insecure about them in so long until recently and im spiraling. u can go from there with whatever u want. thank u!!

thankl you!! i've been literally all about boobs lately so....yeah alright!

900+ words, fem mc, chest referred to as breasts and boobs. you know how it goes.

Your entire life had a subtext now, which you were beginning to learn during your imprisonment.

You were watching placidly as Ren put together a new anime figure, his little, pink tongue poking out as he carefully lined up each notch of shiny plastic and pushed them together, all contributing to the elaborate diorama that he had probably spent way too much money on.

You might have rolled your eyes at his childish indulgence, his total lack of awareness as he put together a model of a busty cat-girl trying to hold a towel to her heaving chest, had you not been having a slightly…well, self-conscious moment about your own body.

Because there was that subtext now.

The lingering thought of not being good enough for Ren, so much so that he had to fulfil what you couldn't give him with perverted toys and crudely drawn pornography.

"You don't…really like girls like that, do you?" You mumbled, idly chewing the inside of your cheek.

"Hm? Like what?" Ren asked, not looking up from the task at hand as he slid a miniature plastic towel rack into place on the thick base.

"Like," You sighed and rolled your eyes, almost annoyed at yourself for asking. "This character…do you really think she's that pretty?"

"Yeah, of course I do!" He said, looking up like you were saying the obvious. "She's one of my favourites for a reason, you know, she's a total cutie pie. Like, she's depicted as heavier in the manga, obviously, but I really like that the anime was mostly faithful to her body type and skin tone." He was rambling now, as his eyes went back down to his figure and he smiled even wider. "Cus, ya know, you don't tend to see anime with chubbier girls, let alone anime that merchandisers pick up on...."

"Mph," You looked to the side, embarrassed that you had been so self-conscious to begin with. "R-Right…of course."

"What, are you jealous?" Ren then asked, his golden eyes on yours again and a coy smile on his face

"I'm not jealous!" You said quickly, looking back towards him. "It's just…well, i-it's typical that you'd think like that." You huffed and crossed your arms. "You don't actually care about…well, representation or whatever. You just like girls like that."

"Girls like what?" He grinned again, his fox tail wagging as you stammered and over-explained.

"Like…" Your cheeks flushed. "Big boobs and stuff."

"Mm, that sounds like you're jealous. Jealous over a girl that doesn't even exist, hah!" He barked out a hyena-esque cackle and leaned over his desk, bringing his face closer to yours. "Well, what's wrong with liking curvy girls? Obviously, it's important that Kitten-Chan is heavier, for, like, body positivity stuff or whatever, but…I do just think she's really cute. What's wrong with that, huh?"

"Whatever…" You rolled your eyes again. "Forget I said anything."

"No, no, this is way too cute" Ren laughed, pacing to the other side of his desk, and pressing his chest to yours in a close (and non-consenting) hug. He raised his eyebrows with a smile, looking at you more closely. "You're all flustered and stutter-y. It's pretty fun to tease you like this."

"What are you teasing me for?" You murmured, as his hands drifted down your hips, toying with the tie of your pyjama shorts.

"Because it's cute, and because I want to, duh," Ren replied with another little titter, keening in closer and rubbing his nose against your jaw, down your neck. "And you're such an easy target for it too. I mean, look at you." He leaned in and pressed his mouth to your neck, giving you a quick little nip. "You're even defensive about your boob size~"

"I-!" You yelped at the bite, cheeks flushed and your hands trembling down at your sides. "I'm not…defensive about that..."

Ren then raised his head to look you in the eye, his expression nauseatingly smug and his ears raised high.

"Oh, you're not?" He asked, raising a brow. "Sure is looking like it to me, sweetie…"

He then reached upwards for your chin, lifting your head and holding your gaze as his own narrowed, his expression hot and hungry and dripping with that unspoken subtext between you.

"You have no reason to be self-conscious, you know…" He murmured, the hand on your hip reaching up to your chest, idly pawing at you. "I mean, I like curvy girls, sure, but I like you too." He chuckled again and lowered his lips back to your neck, kissing the spot he nipped as he slid his hand down the front of your tank-top and palmed your breast roughly. "You're the one here, after all."

"You say that like it's a good thing…" You sighed, your hands still trembling from the effort you were putting in not to reach forward and grab his hips like he had to you.

"I think it is…" He replied, running his thumb (his claw) over your swelled nipple, and relishing in the little gasp you let out at the contact, the way you jerked and trembled. "And I think you think so, too."

You bit your lip as he reached forward and pulled the front of your tank down, the barely-there heft of your breasts not enough to keep it rolled down completely.

"Don't be so insecure, sweetie," He crooned, both hands now squeezing and groping at your chest indulgently. "I like your small boobs a lot…they're just so cute."

"Mm," You bit your lip to hide a fuller moan, your face flushed and your eyelids fluttering with pleasure as his claws dragged over your nipples again.

"And so sensitive~"

[irulaan]

I think Raphael would be a terrible father. At least at the beginning (we’re ignoring the fact he’s literally The Devil™. jk we can’t)

Welcome to my ted talk, it’s just a bunch of words. I doubt this makes any sense

Despite my belief that he's adept at charming people and appearing nice, he still manages to do some terrible things to children (eeeh, Mol?). Like, seriously, a contract with a child? Even if we all know he could charm a piece of furniture into whatever he wants. So, handling a somewhat grown-up child wouldn't be a challenge for him, I guess.

A toddler? Absolute hassle. He doesn’t harbor strong feelings about them, nor does he find them repulsive, but he does consider them utterly useless. Requiring round-the-clock attention, they're a burden he can't comprehend why anyone would want. If handed a toddler, honestly, he'd let them cry until they're so exhausted they fall asleep.

Another reason why I think he would make a terrible parent (aside from the fact that he’s literally a devil) is his relationship with his own father, which is also awful. I mean, he absolutely despises Mephistopheles. I'd venture to say it's because Raphael feels like his father believes he's incapable of achieving his ambitious goals. Plus, our dear devil often behaves like a petulant child who didn’t get what they wanted (remember the whole crown of Karsus and so on).

Let’s continue… ehem, Enver Gortash? Like Raphael had this poor child inside his House of Hope where he was beaten by debtors and saw a lot of atrocities. Yeah, he doesn’t even have a paternal instinct.

Ugh, I’m feeling like a Raphael hater!

Let’s move on to the somewhat delulu part: Actual children of his own… finally!

Since our dear devil is a cambion, possessing this inherent humanity within himself (like his penchant for singing, poetry, and writing), I believe he craves things that mortals have, such as affection, closeness or even love (but doesn’t understand it). So, if someone is foolish enough to have children with him, I think he would see it as an opportunity to mold someone from their very first breath. Everything he does is connected to his grand ambition of becoming the king of hell, so having a child doesn’t sound too bad in that context.

He would completely ignore his child’s needs and would be pretty negligent overall. Would plot against Mephistopheles with them.

But to be loved is to be changed, and if someone is both brave enough to love him and start a family with him… well, I think we can appeal to his more human side. I think he could be able to feel ‘love’ for his child but he’s never going to be able to be a decent father. He will go from evil to mean. I really hope their other parental figure is treating them with love.

I think his first child ever will grow to resent him, even if Raphael tried to shape them to be a piece of his giant plan. Mortals are bounded to emotions.

But this is fantasy! I’d be delulu sometimes thinking he could be a great dad! Like actually being warm to his sons and daughters, reading poetry and living in a quiet home, away from the city and near a lake.