#very good prompt ty anon
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solbeans ¡ 1 year ago
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What do you think a pink drink cat would look like...
well obviously u want to emphasize the strawberry chunks and nice creamy pink, i think cloudy/day or calico/day with mayhaps a deep pinky-red overgrowth (leaves or flowers whenever those are out). and i think venus ragdoll would be sooo cute but mayhaps prowler instead for the thin coat since its more of a summertime drink.
and heres what this lil Pink Drink girl would look like with the current demo
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chuulyssa ¡ 7 months ago
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heyyyy, ur writing is very scrumptious ✨️✨️ can i request prompts 1, 6, 9 and 12 for fyodor?
thank uuuuuu
↷ A/N ─ the way i wrote 12 on the prompt list JUST for fyodor 😩 ily anon
★ PROMPT ─ 1, 6, 9, 12
!! FT. ─ fyodor
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─ wearing his clothes
Fyodor raised his eyebrows at the sight of you near the door, clad in another one of his long white shirts. He never understood what you thought you would achieve with this action.
"Again?" he asked.
"Again," you smiled and hopped over to where he sat, before taking off his ushanka hat and putting it on your head.
He blinked at you momentarily in surprise before letting out a small chuckle and inviting you to sit on his lap.
Whatever your reason for stealing his clothes was, he didn't mind it one bit. You looked too cute with his hat on for that. Maybe it did look better on you than him.
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─ cuddling with him
You lay in your bed, arms tangled around Fyodor. He was staring right up at the ceiling, thinking of something. You leaned your head towards his chest, an indication that you needed your hourly dose of attention.
Fyodor looked at you and smiled softly. He let his own arm wrap around your waist and pulled you closer so that you could lay on his chest comfortably.
"What are you thinking of?" you asked.
"Me? Nothing much," he said quietly, pecking your forehead lightly. "You're more important."
"Yes, I am," you grinned and rested your cheek against his chest, hearing his heartbeat faintly. He shifted his position slightly so that his legs could intertwine with yours and hummed a soft lullaby.
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─ waking him up
You had never woken up before Fyodor. Still, he had given you 'instructions' on what to do in such a 'situation'. So, after freshening up, you crawled back into the bed where he was cuddling a pillow.
Sensing something better than a pillow to cuddle, Fyodor immediately latched onto you in his sleep and pulled you on top of him. You chuckled slightly.
"Fedya?" you said softly.
"No..." he groaned. "Not now."
"Good morning," you said.
"Not yet," he buried his face in your neck.
To think that he could be this affectionate to someone was a dream, you thought.
"It is, now," you replied. "Wake up."
"No," he said again. You sighed and stroked his hair, softly tugging at it sometimes. You didn't try to wake him up anymore. Rather, you stayed in the intimate position for about an hour.
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─ styling his hair in silly ways
You shook your legs around from your position on his lap.
"Don't do that," Fyodor said calmly, and you paused before resuming it again.
"I'm bored."
Fyodor sighed. Being with you was like babysitting a child, he thought.
"Well, what would you like to do, myshka?"
You sat upright on his lap and took the clips and hair tie on your hair off.
"Welcome to my parlour. What hairstyle would you like to get?"
Fyodor blinked at you, startled, before replying, "The one you like."
You nodded and immediately began to work, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tying it in a small ponytail. It was as if his hair was made to be styled. You sighed dreamily as you leaned away to look at him after finishing.
He had a little ponytail surrounded by little pink Hello Kitty clips that you had bought, not for yourself, just for this occasion. You stifled a laugh before pulling out your phone and immediately snapping a picture.
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Š chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
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jennifer-jeong ¡ 7 months ago
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Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...
Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)
HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!
I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe
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Fluff + Angst | LADS x Fae!Reader Angel
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CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
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Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.
It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.
You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.
You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.
The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.
Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.
It’d take years, but it was worth it.
2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.
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XAVIER
Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.
Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.
He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.
After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.
Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.
“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”
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ZAYNE
Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.
He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.
He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.
Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.
Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.
Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.
You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.
Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.
“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”
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RAFAYEL
Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.
The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.
Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.
Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.
Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.
After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.
When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?
Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.
“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”
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|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||
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laura1633 ¡ 8 months ago
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hii this is not a prompt but can i request a smutty drabble of charles riding maxs cock ty!
Hi Anon, of course ♥️ Hopefully this okay
Hmm I wasn't sure what to write so decided to go with a little post race hook up (I am ignoring the fact the race was in Bahrain and the laws etc there!)
“Charles what the…?!” Max almost squeals as Charles brackets him up against the hotel room door. The Dutchman hasn’t even had time to drop his bag to the side before Charles is tugging his jeans and pants down. 
“Missed you” Charles smirks from where he has placed himself down on his knees. 
“Missed me or missed my dick?” Max laughs because Charles is already running his tongue up and down Max’s cock like a man possessed. 
“Both” Charles says in all seriousness as he wraps his lips around the head and sinks down as far as he can until he’s spluttering and choking and dripping saliva from the sides of his mouth. 
Max throws his head back and knocks it against the door. The loud bang doesn’t put Charles off his rhythm though. Max doubts anything could put the Monegasque off his rhythm once he gets started. And really Max should be used to being greeted like this - the finer details change from time to time but their post race hotel hook ups pretty much always involve Max getting his dick out before he’s even really has a chance to say hello. 
“I did not have chance to shower Charles” Max moans as he curls his hands into the Monegasque’s hair. Max may not have broken too much of a sweat in the race but he’s still not exactly fresh. 
“Good” Charles looks up and gives Max a wicked grin, “I prefer you like this” The Monegasque goes back to what he was doing, licking and sucking and occasionally giving Max a near heart attack as his teeth run ever so lightly against the Dutchman’s cock.  He’s never actually dared to let his teeth graze before but honestly sometimes Charles looks a little feral when he’s down on his knees and Max thinks a quick nip against his most sensitive part is not truly out of the question. 
“I already fingered myself” Charles proclaims happily as he decides Max is now hard enough and leaps to his feet, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and dragging him to the bed. Max goes awkwardly, his pants still around his ankles and almost tripping him up as he shuffles rather inelegantly. He lets Charles push him down on to the bed and instantly has a rather animated looking Monegasque clambering on top of him. 
“Are you okay… I mean the race?” Max manages to mumble out as Charles gets himself lined up,
“Fucking frustrating” Charles frowns, clearly not happy at being reminded, “May as well not have had any stupid fucking brakes” 
“Yeah” Max breathes raggedly as Charles sinks right down on his cock in one movement and immediately starts riding him like the world is going to end or something, “You do not look like you have brakes now” Max teases as Charles splays his hands on the Dutchman’s chest so he can ride harder, faster. 
“Oh there are no brakes now” Charles grins as he grips his hands more firmly into the fleshy part of Max’s chest and squeezes as tight as he can as he continues to move up and down the Dutchman’s cock. 
They’re a good while into it when Max realises he still has his cap on. There is something rather hot about being almost fully dressed whilst your naked boyfriend clambers all over you. Charles is panting, his chest heaving up and down, his face red from exertion and mouth hung slack. He wasn’t lying about there being no brakes though, he’s still riding Max at breakneck speed. So hard that the creak of the bed and the clatter of the headboard are echoing around the room along with two very desperate sets of moans. 
Max comes first (just like in the race - a joke he daren’t use anymore because last time Charles looked less than impressed) but Charles comes harder, the Monegasque groaning loudly as he covers Max in his come before collapsing on top of the sticky mess he has made. 
Max tries to steady his breathing as he wraps his arms around Charles’ body and kisses him lightly on the head, “Hi Charles” the Dutchman mumbles amusedly as he finally gets a second to say hello.
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bookofbonbon ¡ 2 years ago
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pairing: Osferth x Reader.
warnings: None.
word count: 757.
a/n: Finally getting around to the Osferth requests!! One of the five prompts sent in by the same anon from the celebration prompt requests I did a couple of weeks ago - I’m breaking some of them up (like this one) into seperate fics.
You stand at the end of the dock, looking out across the vast ocean that spans as far as your eyes can see. The water ahead eerily still, the only indication of its movement being the boats rocking every now and then from where they’re anchored beside the dock.
You play with the cross around your neck, sliding the pendent along its string anxiously. You had arrived in Runcorn almost 3 months ago, your family passing through on the way to Mercia. It was only meant to be a short stay but, you hadn’t expected to run into someone very dear to you from your past – your beloved Osferth.  
A few nights after docking, when your family was prepared to carry on in their journey to Mercia and you were faced with a decision – stay with Osferth or leave with your family, unsure if you would ever see him again. You chose the former. The novelty of being reunited and in each other’s arms initially strong but, beginning to wear off and now, you were faced with wondering if you had made the right choice.
The sound of your name being called from behind you pulls you from your thoughts and, you turn towards the voice of your beloved, Osferth. His tall, lithe figure jogging towards you at the end of the long dock.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing out here?” he calls when he gets closer, a heavy woollen cloak in his hand. “Each night grows colder than the last, you should not be out here and by the water of all places.”
You allow him to fuss over you, bringing the cloak around your shoulders and tying the strings for you. You say nothing, allowing yourself to take in his features. Of course, you were always afforded the privilege of being so close to him but, under the moon’s light, he appeared ethereal and other worldly. How much he had grown and changed not only in looks but, in who he was.
Osferth’s hands pause from where they fix the cloak, noticing the spaced-out look in in your eyes. Calling your name softly, he places a hand on your cheek to bring your focus back to him.
“Hm?” you smile gently at him.
“Hm?” he repeats mockingly, endearingly but, concern evident in his eyes.
You had been acting strange lately, slowly shutting him out and, he couldn’t figure out why – his increasing worry causing him to lose sleep as thoughts of losing you plagued his mind.
“What is it? What’s going on in that head of yours?” he whispers.
“I-,” you hesitate, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Please, tell me,” he pleads, searching your eyes desperately, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your cheek.
“You have…” your mouth opens then closes, trying to find the right words. “The longer I am here, the more I am realising that you are so different to the last time we were together… You have grown and changed-”
A worried looks becomes Osferth, his hand falling from your face at the words coming from your mouth and the very real possibility that maybe you didn’t love him as much as he loves you anymore but, you’re quick to reassure him.
“In a good way!” you rectify, taking his hand in yours and squeezing. “You have changed and matured; a man grown compared to the boy I once knew that I- I guess I just… I worry that perhaps with all these changes there may not be room for me in this new life you live.”
Silence hangs in the air between the two of you as Osferth processes your words, the silence broken only by his soft laugh.
You furrow your eyebrows, looking at your beloved in bewilderment.
“What is so funny?” you demand, unable to stop the small smile that pulls at your lips.
“Oh, my sweet love,” Osferth grins, gathering you in his arms and touching his forehead to yours. “You are the blood in my veins, the air in my lungs and the beat of my heart. So long as I live, there will always be room in my life for you.”
Your heart skips a beat, tears welling in your eyes at his words as an embarrassed groan leaves your lips that you would ever doubt his love for you.
“I’m sorry,” you sniff.
Osferth shakes his head, wiping at the tears that fall when you blink.
“Do not be sorry. Just come back inside, my love.”
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.
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moose-muffin ¡ 10 months ago
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im new here (hiya from the hazbin tag lol) but if you do character + character requests than please PLEASE gimmie a lee!vox with ler!alastor 🙏🙏🙏hear me out... the two are fighting and al (sHocKINglY) wins out, and vox expects to like.. be beaten into the ground as a result, but nope!! he gets tickled!!! to tears!!!! smthn smthn he wasnt smilin and, yk, youre never fully dressed w/o a smile!!!
/nf to do tho ty for reading!!! <3<3
OMG OMG HELLO WELCOME I HOPE YOURE DOING GOOD YIPPEE
SO FUN FACT I WAS VERY LIKE NEUTRAL TO RADIOSTATIC BUT TONIGHT HAS BEEN (HAHAH GET IT) AN ADVENTURE AND THIS ROAD HAS BEEN SUCH A BLAST <3 THOSE TWO FUCKERS ARE SO INSTIGATIVE ITS CRAZY.
I KNOWWWW THIS AS A FIC WOULD GO C R A Z Y!!!!! IDK IF ANYONE HERE WRITE FOR VOX AND ALASTOR AND PERHAPS DOES COMMISSIONS BUT I WILL PAY!!!! PLEASE HIT ME UP OR ILL PROBABLY GO TAKE A PEAK FOR MYSELF TMR <3 AS LONG AS THATS OK ANON. (I WILL ABSOLUTELY LET IT BE POSTED AS LONG AS THE AUTHOR IS OK WITH IT WHICH USUALLY THEY ARE!!!!) IM GONNA TAKE SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES AS I TYPICALLY DO HEADCANONS!
IM NOT USUALLY A CHARACTER + CHARACTER GIRLY SO BEAR WITH ME BUT I WILL DO MY VERY BEST!!!! HOPEFULLY I CAN DO THIS JUSTICE! IT WILL BE RANDOM HCS THAT ARE UNRELATED TOO. MY BRAIN IS A MESSY PLACE HWBSHWDBD
OK SO LIKE I KINDA MENTIONED, THEY BOTH LOOOOVE TO JUST GET UNDER PEOPLES SKIN. LOVE IT!!! ESPECIALLY ALASTOR. HES SUCH AN ASS (affectionate)
I’D EVEN SAY HE’S KIND OF AN INSTIGATIVE LER???? BRO IS DOING EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO GET TO TICKLE VOX LIKEEE IDK IF THAT EVEN MAKES SENSE BUT I KNOW ITS TRUE. HE WILL CASUALLY WIGGLE HIS FINGERS IN CONVERSATION, TWEAK HIS RIBS FROM BEHIND, LITTLE THINGS LIKE THAT. WELL THEYRE NOT LITTLE. ESPECIALLY NOT TO VOX WHO IS SO FLUSTERED BY IT… ITS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING
BUT! VOX HAS STARTED TO FIGURE IT OUT. AS HE IS ALSO ONE WHO LOVEEES TO GET UNDER SKIN, HE DECIDES HE’LL DO EVERYTHING TO TRIGGER A LER MOOD IN ALASTOR. IF HE CAN TELL HE ALREADY HAS ONE, HE FINDS WAYS TO SUBTLY (WE ALL KNOW HE ISNT SUBTLE THOUGH) LEAVE A SPOT UNPROTECTED. BUT ALASTOR DOESNT WANT TO GIVE HIM THE SATISFACTION!!! HE TRIES SO HARD TO NOT GIVE IN TO VOX BC HE “WANTED TO BE THE ONE IN CONTROL” AND NOW HE ISNT AND HES #PISSED
ALSO VOX ABSOLUTELY IS HORRIFIED OF VULNERABILITY. YET HE IS ABLE TO MOVE PAST IT WITH ALASTOR HERE. SOMEHOW HE ISNT AS WORRIED ANYMORE. MAYBE HE KNOWS ALASTOR WILL REACT. HE LOVES THAT SO VERY MUCH.
AS FOR THE SPECIFIC PROMPT, OH THAT IS SO REAL!!!! ABSOLUTELY YES!!!
I DONT WRITE GOOD ROMANCE BUT LIKE UGH IMAGINE IT NOW. Alastor definitely just got himself to the V’s tower and was planning on fucking with Vox only to see he had already been kinda pissed off. Alastor wouldn’t be as satisfied if he knew he didn’t cause the frustration. He realized he could just stir the pot again. Problem solved, and what better way to solve it than using his weakness against him.. being tickled.
I’m being a little silly but genuinely Vox is so ticklish. Like most ticklish person in hell would go to him if it were an official title. That’s what I’m thinking. That being said, Alastor also knows how quickly he could get him to crumble… but wouldn’t it be more fun to take it slow.
Vox notices his presence almost immediately. He tried to ignore it as he feels his face get warm. He can’t fuck this up. He takes a deep breath and turns around. “Why hello, Alastor! What brings you to our building this evening?” He said in a semi newcaster voice. He wasn’t ready to drop the act
“Well Vox, I came here for a reason of my own but then I walked by your office and you looked so sad!” He began to walk closer to Vox. “You know, t they say you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”
Vox let out a laugh that was quite clearly untruthful. “Yes Alastor I am aware! I was alone in here and so I figured I’d just save up some energy. I’m sure you understand.”
“Quite frankly I don’t,” Alastor paused, “I think maybe I could help you get that smile back.”
Vox didn’t even have to think. He knew Alastor meant he was going to tickle him. You could ask Velvette. She’s seen those two in tickle fights that lasted for DAYS. she knows what they’re capable of, or more so what Alastor is capable of.
Vox puts up a fight for maybe a couple seconds but he just loves tickles more than he can play pretend that he doesn’t <3
It works out well for them both, Alastor gets to fuck around with Vox and well, Vox gets his shit rocked!!! And he loves that more than a lot of things.
OK IM GONNA CUT IT OFF HERE BUT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COME BACK!!!! IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE ARE THINKING!! MAYBE ID DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN OR LIKE ADD ONTO THIS!!! BUT I AM JUST ALL OVER THE PLACE CURRENTLY HEHE. I HOPE THESE ARE ENJOYABLE!!! (LOWKEY I WANNA ADD MORE TO THISSSS MAYBE TMR MAYBE TMR WE’LL SEE)
apologies if anything is ooc, i just do this for funsies <3
THANK YOU FOR THIS ASKK
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remusawoooo ¡ 4 months ago
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anon here, excited to read the essay! i asked you because i really like your takes and i see people in the more canon-adjacent parts of the marauders fanbase to complain about the extremes of the fanon one, though personally ive never really seen anything Too extreme, tho thats probably just tantamount to how well i curate my spaces i suppose (ive seen people say that fanon makes remus really “alpha” or makes sirius “bimbofied” and while ive seen hints of those extremes here and there, mostly it looks like it varies from person to person. ive just seen remus be more assertive than he probably is in canon, or sirius being more dramatic and “fem” than he probably is in canon). from what i know people like exaggerating events (the prank, etc.) or shifting some personality traits, but i dont really think thats a bad thing - i personally enjoy it. as long as they dont completely turn characters into stereotypes (though its a pitfall of every fandom, i fear), then whatever its just camp.
people are allowed to criticize stuff like that though, not taking that away from anyone, i personally just dont really care enough to be totally accurate esp since this hyperfix is kind of the bottom of the barrel for me LMAO. but i ask mostly bc im just curious to see what other peoples opinions are, and bc i think - especially in a fanbase like this - that its incredibly important to be at least a little critical with your media experience and reflect on it. saying “oh fuck canon we’re just having fun” is fine and all, i dont think anyone is stopping you, i think the personalities people have made up for characters that have zero screen time are super fun and the little ships are not everyones tea but like its fine. but even still, people should be way more aware of what characters theyre dealing with and from what franchise, and like reflect on any biases you may have. if youre making shit up for a random DE character, or retconning some sutff, okay, whatever, but be sure to not defend or like suddenly turn to really weird rhetoric. idk i think its the bare minimum in a fanbase like this
i definitely rambled way too much here, super sorry op! i hope this doesnt bother you, feel free to reply or feel free to not. i just really like hearing peoples thoughts on things, and i like your takes and your blog so i hope i didnt catch you by surprise. i really am just an outsider trying to look in LOL
hello anon, I'm sorry I lost your ask. I was writing on my laptop and saved the draft (but apparently had to press on alt, and didn't do it) so I basically lost your question and half of my initial response. Ty for sending in another ask!! Not a bother at all, i find this very lovely :D 
I was mortified to find that someone who isn't really a part of the fandom was perceiving me while I was complaining about fictional characters ahahaha. still, thank you for validating me and asking my thoughts on the mischaracterization of marauders!! I do talk about it daily, unfortunately, and without any prompt too. I'll try to gather all my thoughts here. I don't necessarily come across fanon as much as I did when I reentered the fandom and honestly, I can not be more with you about curating your space !! at the end of the day, I am just here to have fun, and really, pointing out these issues is not a good time at all! But I do post a lot about these, I can't be bothered to bottle up any thoughts lol.
I think the major issue I have with current interpretations is the underlying bigotry that comes along with it. There is a lot of unchecked problematic content that doesn't sit right with me.
Flanderizing characters in fandom interpretations is not limited to marauders fandom obviously. any popular media will face this because so many of us want to interact with one character so their traits are simplified for easier consumption and to find a common ground. this is also not limited to new marauders fandom. even in the older era, leather jacket-wearing, motorbike-driving quintessential bad boy siruis was a thing. so I won't nitpick on silly simplifications.
I just want to say that this isn't about me wanting everyone to have the same interpretations as I do about the canon. I follow so many lovely people and I don't agree with all of their posts. But, we all just simply share the love for these characters in the text and form an imaginary community. So, if we were to remove all the issues I will mention, it is still very well possible to have different personal takes.
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Here are some of my issues:
Queerness, Gender roles, and misogyny:
My biggest problem is the representations of queer relationships. the fandom packages these couples in a strange and obvious heteronormative mold where the individuals fit into male and female gender roles. mlm and wlw are now an “f/m”* stereotype and characterization gets affected by the ships. Heterosexual relationships shouldn't have these limitations either, anyway. There is no one way to be a woman or a man. With queer relationships in particular, we have reclaimed the word queer now but it was used to describe the unconventional weirdness in the relationship. We didn't fit into the normal portrayal of a loving relationship. So, it really bothers me, even in fiction, that queer ships are popularly consumed in a way that represents a traditional template. (*this is not about gender itself but the gender roles! f/m can very well be queer!). 
Let's take the biggest victim in this fandom: sirius.
Sirius’ portrayal concerning his gender and sexuality has heavily changed his characterization in the fanon. We have a character who is popularly headcanonned as trans and is it a coincidence that all their traits have changed from the og material? Sirius is suddenly vain, whiny, and dumb. Canon doesn't suggest this interpretation, it has to have stemmed from somewhere. It's the implicit bias. Sirius becomes a caricature of what a woman “should be”. When we focus on sexuality, there is the suddenly short twink sirius who has the same new traits- proving the point of fulfilling gender roles. These characteristics are a stand-in for the “female” role of the traditional relationship and it becomes more clear in the example of new age wolfstar. Remus is now the big alpha stoic manly man- the obvious stand-in for the “male” role. I could go on, it is apparent in the way you can see remus becomes a caretaker and sirius is taken care of.
The point I am trying to make is not to discourage gender/sexuality hc. I love them, keep them coming. But, why is female sirius not tall suddenly? It is not inherently bad at all to have a feminine and masculine pairing! But why do we need to change the constitutions of these characters to consume their relationship?
I'll keep dropping disclaimers because I hate being misinterpreted: I don't obviously mean every single person is doing this or that doing one of the things means doing the other too. 
Race:
It is related to the point above. I was personally so excited to see the popular desi james hc. Even in fanon, I have never seen such a prevalent and encouraged brown rep, it was quite sweet to come back to that. But the problem is the change of characteristics that comes with race hc. Desi james is also a manly dude who is big and buff as opposed to the white petite and delicate regulus within jegulus ship. The melanin is directly proportional to the manliness here. 
This is a propagation of race stereotypes. Maybe jegulus was a bad example because usually there are seen as blank templates. I will raise the argument that this can't be all we can come up with for blank canvases then. Either way, my point about race still stands when you repeatedly design interracial queer relationships so they fall into heteronormative roles. Anyway, same issue with wolfstar when there is a brown remus.
Canon, JKR, and hypocrisy:
Refusing to engage with source material is funny when we are picking characters out of it. the interpretations of the characters will be from their book. otherwise, they are just original characters with the same name. you can add onto the traits and a lot of the time fandom comes to a consensus regarding a few things! This is common in every fandom but I don't think I have seen such reluctance to not only critically engage with media but also shame others who do. We are surely in special circumstances with this fandom but I really do think jkr and how we navigate the fanon should be two different things.
Most of us don't condone jkr or even remotely agree with any nonsense she spews on the daily. Most of us can see the problematic nature of even consuming this media and staying in this fandom. It is one of the reasons I even left the fandom. Most of us are simply doing our best to engage carefully while distancing ourselves from her. So, it is quite laughable when some love to take the moral high ground for rejecting canon while still engaging with the same characters. (the rejection of canon in question being sirius’ height, lol)
(Sirius' height is quite a polarising fact apparently. Unfortunately, the point about height is also discussed so disingenuously. When I talk about sirius’ height, it is not really about him being 6 or 7 feet. It will not really impact my life. It is about what it represents. He is bimbofied as he becomes short. It's an issue of "WHY" again.)
Of course, this isn't an accusation of intentional bigotry from everyone here. The problem with this fandom is that the people in it tell themselves that it is progressive and to run away from the problematic creator as much as possible. We are not progressive if all we do is co-opt queer and racially diverse identities on such a superficial level. The bias manifests in subtle forms. I just wish we check ourselves from time to time, that's all. 
There is a lot of hostility when we try to discuss issues in the fanon. Things are interpreted in the most misguided way to just win the argument. Like I said in the beginning, we all just want to have a good time. That also means creating a welcoming space for vulnerable groups (especially when the same identities are used to pat yourselves on the backs for inclusivity points). I didn't even cover everything btw, I just wrote about the issues that concern me. queer and poc also partake in biased representations, I also probably have some biases that I didn't identify yet. I just think it would be super neat if everyone tried to make an effort to unlearn and engage with media without hurting anyone. 
I have other issues but they are all just super subjective opinions and smth I can ignore when others do. ex: I really don't like giving tragic backstories to bigots in the story. Not every supremacist loser has a trauma that forced them into oppressing people! There is also "tropeyfication" of all major ships. Just an overall issue in the reading world I think, though.
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Anon, I didn't mean to make it preachy in any way btw. You probably asked for a silly little rant and I went full lecture mode, so I apologize for the tone shift!! I mentioned these because every other issue can be brought down to these imo. Like you said, I also don't have any fixation on everything being canon-compliant. I only complain by asking about the thought process behind certain kinds of changes, if that makes sense! I hope this wasn't a drag really and you can see where I am coming from. If I misspoke anywhere, pls lmk. Thanks for sharing your opinions too!!
This is a long long rant, anyone who read everything, you are wonderful and patient. Thank you for taking the time. This huge post and the content can make you think, “who cares this much?” or “it's not that serious” and yaa it really isn't that serious. The characters aren't real but we all are. the identities projected are real. so, it does matter to talk about this.
Everything said this is a fun place to be once you find your own corner in the playground.
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Hey! If youre still doing the ask game, would you mind the "I'll take care of you, promise." To "please come inside me" pipeline w/ Gale? 👉👈 (or you can choose your favorite if you don't want to do both! I love your writing, thank you so much💞)
aaaa ty anon!!
Send asks using this prompt
This is based on a line between Gale and Astarion as well as my neutral evil!Tav
Rated M
Warning: wacky magic and manipulation
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Gale of Waterdeep has always fancied you, a fellow wizard and one who felt the pain of love, you were there for him. Encouraging him, leading him to your strength, and showing him his true potential.
Not the potential of the tadpoles but his own power both his natural talents and the power the orb allows him to tap into.
Though your heart is to another… You made room for him. He is not one to share or be shared, Mystra at the time was all he needed. Yet, in this chaotic turn of events, he finds himself slowly opening to the idea. Well, mainly to be able to be touched by you.
"I'll take care of you, promise." Your words like slik sliding across his naked skin, "Anything you desire. Be selfish, my little wizard." Your eyes looking into him with the shine he has only seen you give Astarion, desire.
It is not the desire to control or to see him crumble, but the desire for Gale to take all that is offered to him and more.
Astarion promised a night of hedonistic debauchery, Gale had not thought it meant by the end of the night you would be in bed with him under you.
The magic, your magic, is cold and unfamiliar– Ancient and forbidden. You draw him into the darkness with no stars or colorful nebula, you bring him into the void.
"Let us create our own paradise together."
Both in the material plane and this pocket of something beyond himself, you treat him as an equal. An… Equal.
You reach deep inside of him, your magic drawing out the power of the orb, you calm him with your presence as he fears what is happening.
The void is filled by light, his light.
Gale doesn't realize he is still alive until he is gasping for air in reality and you are still on his lap. Your aura, your power interlinking with his. He looks around and his body is transparent, full of stars and colors.
"How are you doing this?"
"You aren't the only one to use magic in the bedroom. I however use a different method: the soul. In our purist form, we bare our truths. Do not fear it."
How can he not!? The orb, his curse, his mistake could kill you! 
"Heh, trust in yourself. You need not fear your beautiful power."
Beautiful. You told him once how you envied the beauty of his mastery of the weave.
"I… Trust you." He still doesn't know if he can trust himself.
You smile and nod, "Let us work with that for now."
And you do, in your hands, you hold this wizard who was broken by a Goddess who is undeserving of this man. A mortal who flew too high to the sun hoping to prove his love.
Now you have him, in your hands with claws caging him in your love.
You do not bind his soul tonight, instead, you bind his emotions and body to you.
You can taste the completion of the domination of Baldur’s Gate.
Sex is amazing, good old-fashioned flesh upon flesh. Gale is very repressed and you praise him for trying to keep up with your lust for him.
"Please cum inside of me." Sure he does not want to cum first but you want him to fill you with his seed. He deserves a good thing, a wonderful night, to surrender to bliss Astarion promised you can bring him.
His fine-cut nails leave crescent marks on your waist, his chest hurts from how hard his breathing. Your cold magic soothes him as you moan so deliciously, "Yes, let go. Fall, my love."
If you are some sort of devil of desire sent to steal his soul and mind; well you have it!
"Now that's a look." Gale looks drunk, dazed, happy, "Gale." Kissing him as you ride out your own bliss.
There is a triumphant grin on your face as you both lay in bed, Gale fast asleep and his magic tainted by your influence. You have broken Mystra's hold over him. Impossible but you lived long enough to break and bind oaths and puppet strings of Gods. You trace his chest, the orb slumbering.
Astarion will join you later, Gale still needs time to get used to this sharing concept.
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misc-obeyme ¡ 1 year ago
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For kinktober, maybe Belphie and predicament bondage? (Bonus if it's him receiving?)
Hello, anon!
Okay, you really gave me a challenge with this one lol. I'm not sure I did very well, but I tried my best! I had to look up predicament bondage because I needed some kind of understanding of positioning and what not... again, not so sure I did a good job of describing it?? Hrm.
Anyway! I apologize in advance if I totally butchered this kink, I'm afraid I might not have enough knowledge of it. I also took some artistic liberties because I didn't want to figure out how MC got a suspension frame into their room without anybody noticing lol.
Thanks for submitting a prompt!
KINKTOBER 2023
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GN!MC x Belphegor
NSFW MDNI
Warnings: predicament bondage (ropes, bar, gag, suspension - obvs Belphie is the one receiving), hand job (sorta it's pretty brief, also Belphie receiving), ummmm also some praise at the end I think that's it?
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You had gathered all the items you would need a few days prior, keeping them stashed in a box beneath your bed. Now, on the day you had chosen, you pulled the box out from under the bed and set it upon the table in your room. You took out the ropes, the bar, and the gag carefully, placing them in a neat row.
You had already had a lengthy discussion with Belphegor about that night's activities. It had been planned for an evening when the rest of the brothers would be out of the house, mostly because you didn't trust them not to burst in on you in the middle of things. You had also discussed exactly what Belphie wanted you to do to him, which surprised you a little until you remembered that he was actually a demon. You had also established safewords and gestures, just in case.
You turned when you heard him knock softly at your door. When you opened it, he was already blushing, looking a little shy, but also determined. You smiled at him and let him in.
"Are you ready?" you asked.
Belphie turned to you, a genuine smile on his face. "I'm more than ready," he said and indeed, his eyes seemed to be sparkling with anticipation.
You smirked and waved a hand at him. "You know what to do, then."
Belphie stripped quickly, leaving his clothes in a haphazard heap on the floor. He shifted into demon form next, his horns and tail emerging as he stood beside the table, right where all your items were lined up for him to see. He glanced at them, but then he kept his eyes on you.
You cast a spell and a suspension hook descended from the ceiling. You had found the spell in an old odd-looking book that was in a strange little shop that you never were able to find again. But it was exactly what you had been looking for and what you needed. The hook was in the perfect spot and you attached a ring to it.
Then you took the ropes and began to tie Belphie up. He kept his body loose, letting you maneuver him into the correct positions easily. When you bent his arms and pulled them back, stretching them uncomfortably, he let out a small grunt, but otherwise he was quiet. You pulled the rope around his wrists and tied them each to his horns.
You tied his ankles to the bar, causing him to need to stretch his legs out. You then tied the rope around his waist before also tying it to the bar beneath his cock. You ran your fingers along his skin as you went back behind him. You took his tail in your hands, running it along your palm, brushing your fingers through the hair at the end of it. Then you looped it through the ring in the ceiling. You tied the rope around the end of it, causing it to have an uncomfortable tension.
When you were done, you came around to stand before him, the gag in your hand.
"Are you sure you want this, too?" you asked, holding it up for him to see. It was a standard black leather ball gag.
Belphie looked at you, but he didn't say anything, only opened his mouth.
You placed the ball in his mouth and buckled the gag around his head.
Then you stood back to take in the full effect.
Belphie's eyes closed. His face was flush, his body tense. His muscles were straining and he seemed to be trying to keep himself from falling to his knees. If he did, it would be extremely painful, so you hovered close enough to catch him if it came to that.
The best part, though, was his hard cock, already leaking.
Belphie was breathing hard through his nose, drool beginning to drip down his chin from the gag.
You waited. Part of the point was to see how long he could last, how long he could handle staying in that position. The tension of the ropes that dug into his skin, the look of concentration on his face, the way he kept his eyes closed as though meditating.
When you could tell he had reached his limit, you loosened some of his ropes. As you released his tail and some of the ropes tied to the bar, Belphie could move enough to sag. You pulled loose some of the ropes on his arms, too, revealing the red lines left behind.
Before you removed the rest, you went back around to face him. He opened his eyes, watching you, likely expecting you to take the gag out of his mouth.
Instead you took hold of his hard cock and pumped. He jerked against your hand and the ropes, a low growl emanating from deep in his throat.
You smiled and caressed his cheek. "You doing so well," you said. "My good boy."
Belphie came in your hand, shuddering against the now slackened ropes, moaning around the gag.
Later you would take your time removing every last rope, saving the gag for last. When you unbuckled it and pulled the ball out of his mouth, Belphie said your name softly before collapsing in your arms. You took him over to your bed to rest, brushing your fingers through his hair as he fell asleep almost instantly.
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flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb
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heartstopper-tword ¡ 1 year ago
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Prompt #33 for N & C ler/lee please
A/N: hi anon! ty for the prompt :) hope you enjoy!
if you want to send me prompts to my inbox you can find the list here!
Prompt #33: "Oh? You want me to tickle you that badly?"
Missing You Making Me Laugh
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Two weeks away from each other was enough.
Charlie had known Nick was going on holiday with his family well in advance. Nick had told him about his family's tradition of traveling to Menorca every year to get together with the rest of his extended family, and how one day he wanted to take Charlie with him. Even a few hours apart from one another at school was agonizing for the both of them in general, so two weeks in different countries was absolute hell.
Luckily, Nick had kept his promise of calling Charlie every night to talk to him, checking in on his mental health back home and updating him about his cousins' antics around the vacation house. He'd send him pictures of the dogs together, him and other relatives, and so on, but Charlie still felt lonely without the older boy next to him.
He wasn't afraid to let his boyfriend know how he felt when he'd call, and every time Nick would answer with, "I know, I miss you too. It's only a few more days and I'll be back." Then he'd give him that classic, charming Nick Nelson smile that always stole Charlie's heart.
It wasn't just Nick's company Charlie was missing. It was something else. Something that made Charlie blush whenever he thought about it, giddiness and nerves overtaking him on the inside.
Charlie was known by his friends to be extremely ticklish. He, Tao, Elle, and Isaac had had their fair share of tickle fights and ambushes, and for as long as he could remember, Charlie very nearly was always being ganged up on. He couldn't help it, of course. He'd always been a walking tickle spot since he was little, Tori taking advantage of it as her duty of being the older sibling. It was something he'd tried and obviously had failed at hiding from Nick once they began dating, more out of embarrassment than anything.
When Nick had figured out Charlie's ticklishness, he'd gushed about how adorable he found it and that it just added to one of the things he loved best about him.
Charlie had been extremely embarrassed at first, but slowly became comfortable with the fact that Nick wasn't weirded out by him. In fact, Nick tickled him at almost every chance he got, almost anywhere they were. It made Charlie feel overjoyed by the fact that someone wasn't afraid to be physically affectionate with him, even if it meant being at the receiving end of it all.
But now, Charlie almost felt starved by this absence. He didn't have Nick whispering teases into his ear as he held him close against his chest. He didn't have him chasing him around his house and cornering him before tickling him into hysterics. He missed Nick's goofy self whenever he got into his moods, and he wanted it more than anything. And he needed that now.
He was currently sitting at his desk in his bedroom, on one of his daily calls with his boyfriend. The sun was setting through the window, and Charlie knew he didn't have much time until he needed to get ready to head off to bed. He could hear Nick talking about his afternoon, helping to babysit the younger of his cousins, but he wasn't truly listening. His thoughts kept going to that one specific thing he had on his mind all day.
"Charlie?" On the screen, Nick's face was filled with concern, his head tilted slightly. "What's wrong? You look all flushed."
Charlie cleared his throat, "I-I'm fine." Then as an afterthought, "Sorry."
"No," Nick shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "No S-words from you, sir. I thought we banned that word for good."
Charlie bit his lip, his heart racing in his chest. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Sorry."
Nick wasn't oblivious. He could see the beginning of that cheeky smirk even through the screen of his phone.
"Charles Francis Spring," He said slowly, causing Charlie to shiver in his chair, "Are you purposely trying to rile me up right now?"
Charlie felt like his whole being was on fire from how hard he was blushing. Even through the phone screen he couldn't look Nick in the eye.
"Talk to me. What are you thinking in that pretty little head of yours?"
"I-I-" the younger swallowed, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He knew Nick had caught on to what he wanted. Of course he had. Nick could read Charlie like an open book. It felt like he was right there in his bedroom with him.
"Is there something you want from me?" Nick couldn't help his own smirk from appearing on his face, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend teasingly.
"Stooop," Charlie whined, covering his face with his hands, a nervous giggle escaping his lips.
"I'm just asking a question!" Nick laughed, and Charlie shook his head, still hiding his face. After a moment of silence, Nick leaned in a little. "Charlieee..."
"Do I have to say it?" Charlie asked, finally peaking through his fingers at his boyfriend and trying not to combust.
"I'd love to hear it."
They kept their eyes locked with one another, both of them grinning like idiots. Finally, Charlie let out a long sigh, looking down at his hands.
"I- I want you to..." His voice was barely audible, and Nick chuckled as he trailed off. "What? I'm sorry, you want me to...?"
"You know what." Charlie said playfully exasperated, and Nick crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent.
Charlie's leg was bouncing under his desk, and he let out another sigh, squirming in his seat. "Iwantyoutotickleme."
"Again?"
He rolled his eyes. "I want you to... tickle me."
"And it finally comes out." Nick leaned back again in his chair, looking at his boyfriend smugly.
"Shut up."
"Oh? You want me to tickle you that badly? You miss me teasing you and playing with you? You miss me making you laugh so hard you can barely breathe? You miss me making you all flustered to the point you can't speak in complete sentences?"
"Shut up!" Charlie squealed, closing his eyes as nervous giggles began pouring out of his mouth. He could almost feel the sensation of Nick poking at him playfully, and it was driving him nuts.
"Oh Char, just you wait until I get back. Because I miss it too. I've nearly gone insane without hearing your adorable laughter. I miss seeing you squirm underneath me. So as soon as I get home, you better be ready. We'll have to make sure my mum isn't home. She'll think I'm murdering you."
"Nicholas, I will hang up on you." Charlie threatened, though by the tone of his voice, Nick knew he wasn't serious. However, he decided to egg him on once more. "Go ahead. That'll just seal your fate even more."
"Ugh, stop!" Charlie grabbed his phone, both boys laughing at this point. "You're impossible!"
"Okay, okay." Nick raised his hands, finally relenting. "You're just too cute to not tease you."
Charlie scoffed, moving to his bed and falling onto his back, his phone raised above him. "You're a menace, you know that?"
"Oh, I know." Nick winked, and Charlie felt his heart flutter in his chest. "Anyways, I have to get going. My family's going to be eating dinner soon. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay." Charlie felt slightly disappointed. He always hated hanging up with Nick at the end of a call.
Nick must've sensed his change of moods, and his expression softened. "Only a few more days, mon amour." He whispered, and Charlie nodded.
"Only a few more days."
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remyfire ¡ 5 months ago
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29 (a kiss to the back of the hand) or 18 (a kiss while laughing) for hawkeye/bj?
This was more fun than it had any right to be :D Thank you for the prompt, anon!! You get both kisses~ It's 2k, oops. I'm still very bad at making these short. Kiss Roulette [AO3 crosspost]
When Hawkeye comes back from taking a leak, practically swimming through the smokiness of the bar, BJ's still there, sipping his beer, staring right where he was when Hawk left. Hawkeye huffs with a crooked smile and shakes his head. Come to California, he said. Get some fresh air, he said. We'll have mindless wild hot sex every night and twice on Sundays with a matinee, he said—well, maybe not quite that, but close enough—and yet even after a year out here with him, BJ's goat is still just as easy to get.
Hawk almost bumps into a couple of college kids with their hands in each other's back pockets. "'Scuse me, fellas." Has to turn sideways to squeeze between two broad, muscular guys who are both somehow half a foot taller than him. "Pardon me..." And by the time he's back at BJ's side, he still hasn't looked away.
"You're not really thinking about it, are you?" Hawkeye asks by way of greeting.
Immediately BJ wraps his arm around Hawk's waist and pulls him flush to his side, then keeps a claiming hand on his hip. "About what?" He casually takes another sip.
"About Blondie over there in the red flannel." When he gets no response, he grabs BJ by the chin and rotates him so they're nose to nose. "Hey."
They lock eyes. BJ's face is perfectly calm but there's a tiny blue flame flickering in his gaze. "He's a dick."
Hawkeye's brows spring upward. "Beej, he hit on me, that's all. What's the big deal? Have you noticed where we are?"
"Yeah, he hit on you even after I kissed you right in front of him." BJ's voice tightens.
Hawkeye stares at him for a moment in silence before he sweeps his arm to the three men currently occupying a table in the back corner, two with their tongues down each other's throats, the other holding one of their hands over the table. "Again, have you noticed? Where we are?"
"Forget it."
Before Beej can turn his head, Hawk catches him again, resting their foreheads together. "Beej, the only thing I'd ever do with that guy is tie him to a chair and make him watch how good you give it to me with your giant horse cock. I could not be less interested in anybody but you. What're you worried about?"
BJ still seems a bit distracted by the chair-tying idea. Well, it wouldn't be the first time Hawkeye awoke something within him. Finally BJ takes a deep breath and bumps their noses together affectionately before pulling back, and this time Hawk lets him. "You wanna know what I've really been thinking about while you were gone?"
"Absolutely." Hawk leans his head against BJ's while finding Blondie near the back of the bar.
"I'm thinking about taking him up on that bet," BJ murmurs.
"You serious? Betting on a pool game?"
BJ shrugs. His fingers wander up and down Hawk's spine in the way they often do when he's plotting, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Focus, Hawk, you can fuck him at home. "What're you gonna do that for? You could be sitting right here with me in your lap, but you wanna go over there and show off your machismo for cash we don't need?" It's a perfect excuse for him to grope BJ's ass. God, he looks good in these fucking pants. "Unless you're trying to tell me you left your wallet at home or something, and if so, I'm very interested in hearing all the dirty details of how you were planning on paying our tab."
"Spending money." He says it so casually that Hawkeye blinks at him. Beej glances his way for only a second. "For when we go to New York next week."
Amusement bursts in Hawk's chest like endless soda bubbles. "You wanna put our vacation money on the table on the slim chance that this guy isn't getting you steamed up so he can hustle you?"
"I could beat him," BJ mutters, voice stung.
Ah, his pride. It's not as easily bruised as it used to be but in moments like this when BJ can fully relax, put his hands all over Hawk if he wants, dance with him at the jukebox in front of everyone, it can open the door to his old hypercompetitive nature. Hawkeye keeps waiting for BJ to figure out that the best way to work all that tension off is simply bending him over the kitchen table and railing him until Hawk loses his voice from moaning like a bitch in heat, but they don't appear to be quite there yet. One day.
"I know you can." Hawk catches Beej's earlobe between his teeth and waits for the rough hum to bubble out of his lover's throat before he puts his arms around his neck and slowly rotates BJ to face him. "You are the cleverest, strongest, sexiest, brilliantest person I know. You've got a great eye." He waggles his eyebrows, smirking. "Amazingly talented hands." And though he can see BJ's still trying to pout, his cheeks are a lovely pink and his gaze has softened. "Okay, you know what? Do it, babe. Go kick his ass. We're gonna treat Sidney to a hell of a meal while we're up there."
BJ's lips twitch. He tries to hide it with that mustache of his, but unfortunately for him, Hawkeye knows his face better than his own now. "Well, if you're gonna insist like that..."
"However..." Hawkeye slides his fingers into Beej's silky hair, giving his scalp a tiny and affectionate scratch. "Just keep in mind that if you lose...I'm not blowing you for a week."
BJ whips his head up, brows rising. He flicks his gaze back and forth between Hawk's eyes like trying to guarantee his sincerity, but Hawk simply watches him with a coy smile, batting his lashes. "And what do I get if I win?"
Tingles ripple through Hawkeye. "I'll take you up to Lovers' Lane...and I'll ride you in the back seat."
Instantly BJ is more alert. "In my—"
"In your varsity jacket," Hawk agrees, nodding.
Beej opens his mouth, closes it, then speaks through what sounds like a strangled throat. "You said you thought you were gonna hit your head on the ceiling."
And he probably still will. He considers a helmet. Maybe just a little one. Something flat like a cushioned trash can lid. But for now, he shrugs, innocently wide-eyed. "What, you don't think your girl's flexible enough for you, Mr. Jock?"
In this moment, Hawkeye knows that he has guaranteed one of two options. The first is that BJ is fueled by passion and takes the win with ease. The second is that he'll be too hard to so much as focus.
It'll probably be fine.
"C'mon, Sir Beej," Hawk teases. "Do it for my honor or something, huh?"
BJ purses his lips and narrows his eyes in thought. Then he downs the rest of his beer and starts to step away. But at the last moment before he's out of reach, he catches Hawkeye's hand behind him. He sweeps into a low bow, then lifts Hawk's fingers to his lips and leaves a warm kiss on his knuckles that sears Hawk straight through like it's their first. "As you command, Princess."
Because he's a bastard, BJ saunters away with a certain spring in his step that has Hawk staring at his legs and chewing on his bottom lip, trying not to groan. Okay, well, he probably deserves the pain in the front of his trousers now too, that's completely fair. He keeps BJ in his sights at first, how he's smiling and laughing with Blondie—but Blondie's not familiar with how Beej's eyes glimmer in a very specific way when he's biting at the bit. That too is impossibly hot.
Hawkeye tells himself that he stays at the counter because if he goes anywhere near that pool table, BJ's gonna clock how hard he is and get too distracted to play well. But really if he's being honest, Hawk can admit it's because the view of BJ potentially leaning to take a difficult shot is way easier to see from here. Every time a couple or more block his view, Hawk's attention floats from the game to people watching to idly chatting with the bartender when he comes over to pour Hawkeye another beer. With the constant visual interruptions, it's hard to track how everything's going just from the placement of the balls on the felt, especially when both men are grinning, joking around with one another, just a little too steely-eyed—reading them isn't gonna help a bit.
He's in the middle of a full plot synopsis for My Fair Lady—Cockney demonstrations included—when a hand slaps down so hard on the bar next to him that he jumps away. "What the hell're you—" But then the hand lifts, revealing a truly impressive fat stack of cash, and Hawk gapes at it for a second before looking up at Beej.
There is a certain kind of smugness that BJ will wear where he's practically whistling everywhere he walks. It's in him now, the upturned lips, the way he cocks out his hip to an overdramatic degree as he leans into the counter, how fluidly his hands move when he folds up the money and puts it in his wallet for safe keeping, leaving a few more bills than he usually might on the bar.
Hawkeye glances over his shoulder but Blondie's nowhere to be seen. He elbows Beej and leans in close. "How'd it go? How bad was it? Did you have a hard time?"
BJ puts his arm around Hawk's waist. "He sunk two whole balls."
"You're kidding," Hawk breathes. BJ shakes his head. "How'd that happen? What the hell was he doing betting in the first place if he knew he was shit?"
"Oh, he wasn't shit. I told him that if he won, you were gonna suck him off in the alley after."
Hawkeye gasps, jaw dropping. "You did not," he breathes in delight.
"Sure did."
"What were you gonna do if you lost, then?"
The smugness floats to the surface once more as BJ cuts a glance toward Hawkeye, then rests his warm finger on his trachea. "I wasn't gonna lose. I told him aaaaall about how well you've trained your throat. He almost broke the cue in half from squeezing it so hard."
For a long moment Hawkeye simply gapes at him, trying to figure out where that fresh-faced, bright-eyed kid he met at an air base in Kimpo went if this naughty little jackass is left in his place. Fuck, why is it so hot when Beej struts his stuff like this? When the cockiness rolls off of him in waves? Suddenly Hawk starts chuckling, thick and low, and he cups the back of BJ's head and pulls him in to kiss him languidly, then hums out another laugh against his lips when he feels BJ digging his hands into Hawk's hips and ass like he's about to rip his pants off and fuck him right here. "You know what I've got in the car?"
BJ shakes his head, trying to catch his mouth again.
Hawk bobs around so he can put his lips to BJ's ear. "I'm gonna sit in the back seat while you drive us home. And I'm gonna take my pants off. And I'm gonna get myself ready for you. And you're gonna keep your eyes on the road and not get distracted because you know the sooner you get us there, the sooner you get to fuck me on the goddamn living room floor."
There are three seconds of silence while BJ processes this. And then he all but drags a cackling Hawkeye out of the bar.
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sitp-recs ¡ 1 year ago
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Happy Friday, friends! I’ve never done monthly wrap ups before but since Wireless pulled me back from a brief hiatus, I thought it would be cool to share some things I’ve been reading, that could use more love. 10 fics both old and new, Drarry and rare pairs, Wireless treats; pick your poison and have fun! 🙌
Drarry
Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 7k) - brilliant concept perfectly executed, I’m so here for curse-breaking colleagues who fuck at the job to pass time and then forget about it every time 🤌🏼 genius and intriguing and captivating as per crow’s usual
There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.
And Embers at Your Lips by @nametheshadows (T, 15k) - sequel to one of my all-time favorite 8th year fics with insomniac roommates just as soft and healing as LLAYF. Gorgeous prose and all the kissing. Highly rec this series for A+ comfort food!
The sequel to Like Lightning at Your Fingertips: the kissing montage. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.
Rich Friend, Anon (E, 18k) - one of my faves from Wireless, pop star!Draco never gets old and both the pacing and the romance are perfectly developed! I live for Harry’s horny yearning and for their road trip together, kudos to casual Harry/Neville as a side ship!
As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.
Waking Up Slow, Anon (E, 22k) - this ode to advent Drarry fics took my breath away with a charming Draco, fun dynamics, an enchanting Christmas shop and one of the sexiest smut scenes I’ve read this year, 10/10 recommend for hot & sweet magical vibes and lots of references as an homage to the classics!
'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?
We Are Legend by Vaysh (E, 38k) - happy to report to @romaine2424 that I have finally read this epic apocalypse AU and am shooketh with its originality and serious tone. One of the most creative takes I’ve seen on animagus Draco, a poignant and devastating war story.
Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side. He recognises Draco Malfoy whom he thought long dead. But the differences between them are perhaps even greater than before. Cw: MCD
LA, Who Am I To Love You?, Anon (E, 42k) - I cannot believe this beauty was written for my lil Wireless prompt ♥️ perfect LA vibes, gorgeous aesthetics, horny ust and a fascinating take on both down and out bi Harry and out and proud bi Draco, we love to see it! Couldn’t have asked for a better story to fill my prompt, ty anon!
Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.
Rare Pairs
A Different Tune by November Snowflake (M, 8k) - very nice Dron get together, short & sweet with an undercurrent melancholy that I love, just what I needed before bed
Working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office has led Ron to many strange encounters--but none more unexpected than this one. Cw: Harry’s dead
The Years Between by brummell (M, 14k) - another rare pair fave, this Rarry fic told from Ron’s smitten and jealous pov as he helps Harry recover from a coma is so deliciously raw and angsty. Gorgeous slow burn, the feels!
For both Harry and Ron, a wake-up call is just the beginning.
Things Remembered by avioleta (E, 17k) - best Snarry fic I’ve read this year, I’m low key obsessed with this hitmen + amnesia concept and how the romance develops so organically while they’re on the run. Intriguing plot, sexy ust and super scorching smut that made me salivate jfc 🔥
Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar hotel room, and with absolutely no idea who he is. The man he’s in bed with has no memories either. But they think, maybe, they’re assassins, because they seem to be very good at killing people.
A Dress with Pockets by PacificRimbaud (E, 25k) - a Panville classic recced by anon (ty!!), what a sexy and vibrant read! I LOVED Neville and their dynamics are brilliant and so funny, I just couldn’t get enough of these characters. 100% sold on this ship pls and thank
Pansy Parkinson needed a drink. And a shag. She didn't care in which order. Enter: Neville fucking Longbottom and his rolled up sleeves.
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nadvs ¡ 8 months ago
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begging begging BEGGING for a fic where rafe spits in your mouth while fucking you and is like very mean about you liking it uuuuhg
the way i just RAN to my notes to add this to a fic i’ve been outlining all about rafe and reader hatefucking loool 😭 SUCH A GOOD PROMPT TY ANON
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crisiscutie ¡ 1 year ago
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yandere fem sephiroth with a darling who's very ashamed of having sexual thoughts/ wanting sex with her please? darlings cooped up in her room humping her pillow and groping her breasts trying so hard to deny she wants her mommy to make her feel good.
ty for your time!
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Aw anon, thank you for the wonderful, detailed prompts and support! 💜💜💜
Content Warning: NSFW, Milk/Nursing Kink
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Sephiroth knew about your attraction towards her and was curious to see how long you could resist acting on your sexual desires.
As she listened to you moan, her own cunt quivers with desire.
She wanted to go in there and fuck you herself, but she must wait... She must make you admit it.
The next day in your garden, the dark desires still followed you. It's hard to tell if the female Sephiroth is asserting dominance over her male counterparts or if you're simply in the mood for a particular Sephiroth.
Her sweet, husky voice echoes in your mind, as innocent flowers suddenly transform into suggestive, sexual shapes.
You should be scared, yet your curiosity outweighed it. A jasmine flower, with its phallic shape, caught your eye, and you reached out to touch it, feeling the essence leak out and fill the air with its sweet aroma.
The female Sephiroth's greeting that came from a distance jolted you out of your trance.
You glanced back at the Jasmine, which seemed to go back to its usual appearance. What just happened?
She rushed towards you, her warm hug enveloping you as her large breasts pressed against your back.
"Is my darling enjoying her new, revitalized garden after that bratty boy destroyed it?" She asked.
You forced an innocent smile. "He's unstable, being the youngest Sephiroth, so please, don't blame him..."
She giggled at your response, her nose twitching at the sweet scent of Jasmine.
Her hands move down your body, fingers softly grazing your skin before giving your breasts a gentle squeeze, asking why you've been avoiding her.
The sensations coursing through your body overwhelmed you as she touched you, rendering you incapable of responding.
"Well?" she said, her fingers tightening around your nipples and causing you to cry out in pain.
Her fingers were nimble and skilled as she kneaded and teased your nipples, sending shivers down your spine.
You eventually gave up and spilled your heart out, confessing all your dark desires to her.
With a dark, husky laugh, she released her pull on your nipples, leaving a tingling sensation behind. She then flips you over onto the ground, taking your wet, lacey panties off.
With a sly smile, Sephiroth exposed her large, lactating breasts from the confines of her trench coat.
Her gaze became locked onto the jasmine flower from earlier, now retaking that phallic form and releasing its sweet aroma once more. "It seems Mother is quite eager for this as well."
You lay your head in her lap, feeling her hand hovering over your wetness. The other flowers around you changed shape, resembling both phallic and yonic forms.
"Now, let us begin..."
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Looks like Jenova want to get in on the fun... Girls night out? 👀
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mostlymaudlin ¡ 2 years ago
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just read every single one of your fics and prompts. ur so good i literally love everything you’ve ever written ever. would you be able to write (or recommend if you don’t fancy writing it) some wymack just being so good to neil and or andrew? being there for them, understanding them, i love parental wymack
hi anon 🧡 ty for being so nice!!! it has been a while since you asked this question, sorry. ive read a lot of excellent portrayals of wymack, but i don’t know that i could name any fics that really focus on this? as you probably know, i wrote one wymack pov fic, but it’s still mostly about andreil hahaha.
ANYWAY. i know you said parental, but i was kinda thinking abt the very unique role he serves. And I did write a little scene abt Andrew’s midnight break-ins to Wymack’s apartment 🤪 cw for vague mentions of past abuse/self-harm.
rated t, <1k
“And here’s the real kicker, Coach.”
Wymack is fairly certain that the information Andrew is about to deliver will not be the kicker. He’s fairly certain that it will only lead Andrew to another line of outrage about the thing he is always rattling on about these days when he breaks into Wymack’s liquor cabinet: Neil Josten.
“He doesn’t even listen to music!” Andrew says. “I know you see him running on that treadmill too, eyes glazed over like a goddamn zombie. I heard Boyd offer to let him borrow his iPod, and he went, ‘oh, no thanks, I don’t listen to music.’ And Boyd kept pushing him, trying to find out if he liked an obscure genre or something. But he is ambivalent to it. Be honest, Coach — did he grow up in some kind of satanic cult? Is he brainwashed? Is he going to hear some code word and go ape shit on us?”
Andrew is lying on his back on the sofa, dirty boots on the arm rest and a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand. He’d made significant progress on it before Wymack even got home, and Wymack can see it flushing his cheeks and ringing around his eyes.
Wymack has dealt with a lot of fucked up kids, but in some ways, Andrew is one of the most difficult. It’s not the violence or the bad manners or the obstinance — Wymack can deal with that shit all day long.
It’s nights like this that make Andrew such a challenge in Wymack’s head: Why does Andrew come here? What is he looking for? What has Wymack done to earn this frankly irritating privilege — and how can he make sure he doesn’t squash it?
Andrew doesn’t talk to anyone. Betsy doesn’t tell Wymack much about the kids, but even she has expressed worry at the layers of repression Andrew seems to hold.
But sometimes here, between casting Neil in various villainous roles or complaining about Kevin or stating his grievances with Palmetto State’s meal options, Andrew drops in something real. A comment about getting slapped by a foster mother. A crude joke about the scars Wymack already knows are on his arms. Hints toward some kind of big secret that Andrew seems to dangle in the air between.
It’s always casual. It always feels like a test. Wymack doesn’t know if he passes or fails — Andrew always just finds his next tangent and moves on.
Wymack rubs his temples. He must take too long to offer a grunt to indicate he’s listening, because Andrew looks over to where Wymack sits in his armchair.
“I don’t think Neil is religious,” Wymack finally offers.
“But would we really know?” Andrew asks. He sighs, dramatic, turning his head away again. “He doesn’t add up.”
“He’s hiding things,” Wymack agrees. “So is everyone else on the team.”
“Yes, but everyone else on the team isn’t as interesting.” Andrew brings the bottle to his lips again. “He’s a threat. But it would be less of a problem if he wasn’t so nice to look at. It’s very distracting.”
Well. Wymack didn’t see that coming.
Maybe he should have.
Andrew keeps his eyes on the ceiling, but the air is charged as he waits for Wymack’s reaction. Wymack holds in a heavy breath.
“Maybe you’re looking so much that you’re seeing stuff that isn’t there,” Wymack says.
“Ha,” Andrew says, but there’s little amusement in his voice. He tips his face toward Wymack, pointing with the bottle in his hands. “That’s a good one, Coach. But no. He’s definitely up to something, and I’m going to figure it out. How far is Millport from Area 51?”
“Far enough,” Wymack says.
Andrew hums. “He’s pretty fast. Maybe he escaped containment there and ran.”
Wymack snorts. “Report back when you’ve exhausted that theory. Preferably not in the middle of the fucking night.”
Andrew laughs. It’s not a joyful sound, but it’s familiar.
The are boundaries he’s supposed to maintain, and he knows Andrew wouldn’t want to have rules bent for him. The minute Wymack gives Andrew an open-door policy, he’ll never see him again. He’ll never get to see if he’s passing Andrew’s tests — he’ll never figure out if there’s something he can do.
So he’ll play the role. It’s not hard — he’s old and grumpy and tired. He’ll listen to Andrew bitch, even when it’s about these other kids whose names weigh heavy in his chest.
Maybe it will pay off, maybe it won’t. But this is the job. He has to be okay with these odds — they’re the best he’s going to get.
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littledollll ¡ 2 years ago
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🕊️
Stalking you once again my dear. And thought I’d leave another prompt to work your magic on~
r is trying to remain big and struggling stood next to luci in a meeting. R brings their covered hands to their mouth effectively hiding it and preventing them from grabbing their stuffie hidden in the bag next to them. Luci realises and feels pride that r is trying so hard to do this as not to upset them (not that it would)
R then slips away from the meeting and turns little once they feel safe to do so but the slip a lot more into little space than normal. To the Point all they can do is make sounds and curl up into a ball, processing all the emotions swirling in them. Being alone scares r and it draws out the attack of emotions and adding fear and anxiety into them. Tears streaming and breathing hitching with the strong emotions.
Luci discovers r in such a tiny state and immediately takes care of their tiny little one. Tiny is absolutely fascinated with lucis wings only settling when they’ve got both wings in their hands, clutching at them like a life line listening to lucis soothing cooing and gentle rocking ~ shy anon🕊️
#shyanon🕊️
Overwhelmed
(Little angel universe, side shot)
Lucifer x little!angel!reader
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Extra Prompt: r throws a tantrum and cusses at Mazikeen
A/n: AH ITS SO CUTE I love this, ty
Warnings: r throws a tantrum and cusses, masking regression, crying, very very small reader, I don’t know what else
This was literally the worse time to start feeling small. You were in the middle of a meeting with the co-rulers of hell and a few other lords. Sure Azazel had seen you before but it was never during “work” hours and Beezelbub and the rest of the lords would certainly never be allowed to find out. They were fighting with Lucifer, those two tended to gang up on them a lot. Too much you found.
It wasn’t until recently that Lucifer started bringing you along to these meetings, you were levelheaded and logical, a lot more than they could say about the rest of the idiots here, that’s what they said anyways. You’d keep the meetings peaceful and on track, honestly it was like a superpower of yours.
Though you longed to let the mask fall and reach for Emery now was not the time, Lucifer of course noticed this, they always knew, specially since they had to learn how to watch out for your regressing when you kept hiding it from them. They called over Mazikeen and whispered something you couldn’t quite make out to her, then she went back but instead of standing behind them, she stood behind and between the two of you.
You payed no mind to it, deciding would hold on until the meeting was close to ending to leave. Resting your head on your hand, you started hyper focusing on their words, hoping it would somehow help you stay big, it kind off did. You made a few comments and re-directed conversation when it got off track a few times, it kept you distracted enough but by the end of it you were overwhelmed, this was mentally exhausting.
Managing to make up an excuse to leave you grabbed your stuff, gave Lucifer a quick kiss on the cheek, making the others make teasing comments and ask for one too, it made you giggle as you walked out, you knew it was all in good fun because first of all, they’d lose their heads if it wasn’t, and second, it’s not the first time, you’ve grown quite used to them by now.
You rushed to your room and let yourself slip, as relieving as it was to finally stop masking it was horrible to be like this without Lucifer as everything you had been holding in came out at once. You whined and replayed the quiet “just a few minutes” they whispered to you when you said goodbye, “just a few minutes” felt so stupidly long. You hated being alone, it was scary and stressful. You just wanted your Luci.
You wanted to pass time by maybe coloring or playing but moving felt like such a chore in that moment, you curled up hugging your stuffie close, sobbing, after a few minutes you heard the door open and close quietly. You sprung up in hopes to see Lucifer but instead it was Mazikeen. “I was told to leave a few minutes after you.” She nodded your way at the stuffie in your arms. “They know you quite well I suppose.”
You loved Maz, you really did, but the disappointment of hoping for Lucifer and having her walk in instead made you very sad and very angry. “fuc u go away” your little voice screaming was really not all that intimidating but it was clear you were upset. “Now angel, what would Lucifer think about you saying a bad word?” Huffing adorably angerly you repeated your previous word but slower. “fuck. u. go. away!”
You hid into your pillow and cried, kicking your legs, but unlike usual it wasn’t “happy kicks”, you were upset and throwing a tantrum. again. “Are you like this all the time or do you just hate me” your head shot up her way, your brows were furrowed you looked confused and hurt that she would even suggest that. “want lu..” sighing she made her way to the bed and sat next to you. “I know you do, but I’m the best you’ve got until they’re here, and we all know you hate being alone.”
Nodding, you hugged her. Of course you didn’t hate her, and she was right, you didn’t want to be alone, you certainly didn’t mind her being with you either. “You can’t go around saying fuck though, I genuinely don’t think Lucifer would appreciate that.” She laughed when you let out a noise of disapproval and stopped hugging her.
This brought you back to your current dilema, Lucifer. “Mm!..” you met her with teary eyes and really she didn’t know how to handle this.
Thankfully she didn’t have to as Lucifer made their way in. “Just in time, I thought the little bug was gonna start crying on me again and I can’t deal with that.” She happily let herself out and closed the door behind her. “Crying?” They said cupping and studying your tear stricken face and the way your breathing hitched. “Mm..” you didnt really say anything, just kinda whined and looked at them , lost.
Immediately they pulled you into their lap, arms and wings coming around you and your face light up slightly. Your hands launched forward to trace over their wings, you were careful but curious, unfocused little eyes looking over every detail, they looked as rough and expensive as leather but they were soft to the touch and warm.
Like a blanket! Your little mind immediately thought. Lucifer just watched you, a soft smile on their face at your adoration, truly they never loved their wings much, yes they made them feel powerful and strong, but that was all. Slowly, you were making them learn to love them as much as you did.
Lucifer didn’t want to break the little bubble of peace that was formed around you but they were concerned about you, so they spoke, soft and quietly. “are you alright, tiny?” you hummed, it sounded like a yes, they took your hand and put it up, pointing at each finger and giving it a number, one through five and a closed fist meant less. Simple enough instructions.
“How tiny are you my sweet dove?” Your eyes wandered up, completely looking away from your hand as you thought, they could almost see the cogs turning in your head and you gave up, hiding into their chest. You felt like crying again, this time you couldn’t really find a reason why.
You just cried and they held you through it, softly rubbing your back and whispering to you reassuringly. “you did so good, did you know that, little angel? How you managed to hold on until it was over, im so proud of you.” Again you only hummed nuzzling impossible closer to them, Lucifer swears in moments like these, if you could fuse into them you would. They weren’t wrong.
“that’s a very tiny dove I think.” They said mostly into the air, it’s not like you were present enough to understand them. you lifted your head slightly and made grabby hands at their wings. Lucifer moved to lay gently on the bed with you on their chest. Your slow blinks and clinginess were a dead giveaway you were ready for bed, awe still present in your face when their wings hid you away, as if you’d never seen them before. “Nini?” You asked while your hands gently held their wings, as if you weren’t two seconds away from visiting the dreaming. “yes tiny one, night night time.”
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