#I won all four rounds

[sarcasmchandlerbing]

Now Stars and Leafs has to do what Panthers and Hurricanes did together (all of these are my fave teams), either win or lose together! Why this had to get to this point? Why this had to get to the point of being so scary and exciting at the same time?? Stars and Leafs - show your twin powers! Beat Bruins and Knights! Please! Actually, I would be fine if only one of my faves wins but twinning would be much better! C'mon! Go Stars! 💚 Go Leafs! 💙 GOOD LUCK! GO GOALIES! SHUTOUTS AND LOTS OF HAPPINESS TO YOUR WAY STARS AND LEAFS!!!! 💚💙💚💙

[girlwarlock]

slight pet peeve about the metazooa game--it has eumetazoa as a clade, in the sense that the game can say ''the answer isn't a wolf, but a wolf and the answer animal are both in eumetazoa!!'' but doesn't have any guessable animals outside of it. I know that--from a normal person's body of animal knowledge--there's only one animal outside eumetazoa (even though there are a lot of different varieties of sponges) but it would be nice to be *able* to guess that

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

im gonna shit myself i just saw the voting gauntlet results and edeIgard was in round 1 in two brackets and lost both brackets

as ever we keep the edeIgard loses in round 1 legends going hella strong

[foldingfittedsheets]

My best friend growing up was a matter of convenience over compatibility. The boy across the street was only a year older than me. We had some common interests but our personality types were a terrible clash. I remember fighting with him just as vividly as any peaceful activity.

We were stuck in the same boat though. There was no other kids to socialize with except our odious older brothers, and being together was slightly less wretched than being alone. Most of the time. Our parents joked that we were like an old married couple, always fighting. We’re both gay now.

His family was better off so he brought more toys and video games to the friendship table. My family had more land so we had animals to play with and secret forest clubhouses. We hung out most days but he refused to acknowledge me at school for the sin of being both a year younger and a girl.

He was a terribly sore loser though. When playing fighting games he’d win four out of five rounds but if I won the fifth he’d turn the console off before letting my character do a victory dance. I was fairly prosaic about this. He liked to play them and I went along. When I won I got to suggest other activities.

Now, I mentioned we both had older brothers. His older brother was only three years above him. They scuffled in a normal sibling manner but the older brother was cognizant that he was bigger and stronger and these fights were more what I would characterize as fencing. There was rules and treaties in place.

My older brother was five years older than me. When we fought it was a no holds barred pit fight. I went absolutely feral. Significantly younger and weaker I unleashed my greatest weapon which was absolute berserker tactics. I bit, scratched, went for the balls, I was a menace. I paid no heed to any injury done to me if it let me land another strike. Most of our fights ended in a stalemate of me pinned or him bleeding too profusely to continue harassing me.

I never considered that I was getting more fighting experience than my friend. When scuffles broke out between us without a controller in hand I won every time. He’d jokingly smack me and we’d go down in a ball of flying hair and monkey screeches, but I always ended on top.

The trouble was, I found, that afterward he was no fun at all. His fragile childhood masculinity couldn’t take these defeats from someone younger and more female than him and he’d always sulk home afterward. I didn’t care for that, especially because fighting him was much more fun than my horrible brother.

Then one day I found the secret. I’d whapped him far too hard upside the head and he began to cry immediately. Full of guilt I whimpered that he’d really hurt my knee. He stopped crying. He hurt my knee? Then we were even! He’d hurt me just as badly and therefore the fight was a draw.

I was delighted by this logic. Every fight thereafter I saw no shame in playing up some injury he’d dealt me retroactively. I had no pride to lose and shamelessly acted beaten to avoid hurting his feelings. Our fights were milder as a result, and we both went away feeling elated by the childhood violence rather than defeated.

[lesbianpikachu]

.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

Day Twenty Two - A/B/O

【Synopsis】 : He was your best friend. The only person would could trust. But yet you had kept a secret from you that would change your relationship in an instant. How would he react once he finds out?

『Word count』 :  3.43k

-> Genre: A/B/O. Smut. Angst. Romance.

Pairing: Alpha!San x Omega!Reader

[Warnings] : Mention of gambling. Bets. Sub-gender. Misogynism. Sexism. Protective San. Typical a/b/o hierarchy system. omegas are considered rare. scent blockers. heats and ruts. a lot of crying. mating and the idea of soulmates. listen, this one big ball of mess. Unprotected sex. Sweet love making. Crying. Use of the name omega and alpha. Ripping of clothing. Claiming. Marking. Biting. Blood.

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Note: This is my first time writing Abo and boy was this hard. Ahha. Im so used to adding the Werewolf trope into this kinda genre, so trying to separate it was a challenge, but i hope i did well none the less. ♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

The town where you grew up, small and concealed between two rolling hills and dense forests, was all you knew. When you moved there when you were only four years old, your parents quickly made a name for themselves. New life, new identities. It wasn’t that your parents were criminals, on the run from the law. But it was more so for your sake. Your father was a gambler and one evening in a drunken rage and the loss of almost every penny he had to his name, a gentleman bet for another round. One simple game. And if he won, he could walk out with everything he lost, including an extra hundred thousand for his troubles… but if he lost,

You would now belong to the man.

It was simple really, you were an omega. A rare jewel in the ever-growing population of betas and alphas. So the man wanted you. To raise you for your sub-gender. Your father lost that night and shook the man's hand in defeat but when he went to leave he stole one of the priceless rubies that hung on the mantle before fleeing. The ruby bought him and your family a new life far away from the crime lord. But that day your father had decided to take matters into his own hands, using his earnings to find scent-blockers that were so potent, you would show as a beta.

Your life was luckily in a state of normalcy after that. Both your mother and father led stable jobs and happy lives as you progressed smoothly in school. But it wasn't until you hit high school that you met Choi San, your best friend. San, the confident and charismatic alpha, who had always been protective of you since the day you met. He couldn’t explain it but it was like whenever you were around, nothing else mattered. He knew you weren’t soulmates since the click never happened but maybe you were a different kind of soul mate? A bond shared between two people that was unexplainable? San would spend most nights thinking about how to describe his feelings towards you but he would always end up landing back on the same word over and over again…

Home.

Your bond had flourished over the years of teenhood and evolved stronger in your college years. It was built upon late-night conversations, shared secrets, and laughter that echoed in the empty spaces of each other's homes. And with each day somehow, you both fell more and more in love. But yet, you could never find the right moment to tell him the truth. That you weren’t a beta but in fact an omega. Your father's last wish on his deathbed was that you would never tell a single soul what you really were. Thanks, dad… And with your mother out of town for a conference with her job, you were left with fate and oh, had it played a cruel trick on you.

The scent blockers you relied on to keep your omega pheromones at bay had been discontinued without warning, leaving you vulnerable for the first time in your life since the crime lord all those years ago. You didn’t know how to react when the woman on the phone said they had been removed from stocks. Something about an illegal toxin? You weren’t paying too much attention after that. She had advised you to go to a doctor since you had never been without the blockers and it could cause your body to go into shock.

And, oh boy did your doctor nearly fall out of her chair when you told her the truth. She was luckily an omega herself so she understood why your family did it but the withdrawals and long-lasting effects the blockers had were not healthy in the slightest. She prescribed an antibiotic to help with the pain but she strongly insists you go through your first heat and let your body regulate itself before you go onto normal scent blockers for omegas.

To say your life went face up all in one afternoon was not an exaggeration. And that is how you found yourself dodging San, struggling to maintain your composure as the instinctual nature of her omega threatened to surface. The first day without your scent blocker had been manageable, but by the third day, you were acutely aware of the heat in your cheeks and the way your heart raced at the thought of San drawing near. You had to call into your college and tell them you were ill and unable to come onto campus until further notice.

Day four the symptoms grew. The heat pooling all over your body while the cramps began to brew inside your lower belly. All your senses felt like they were turned up to a thousand, the slightest wrong noise or texture would throw you off and you found yourself slowly building a nest in the centre of your lounge room. You’ve never nested before let alone experienced any of the natural omega tropes since the blockers completely had stripped that part of your identity so you felt completely out of place as you stared at the piles of pillows, plushies, blankets and of sorts.

“Why did I have to be like this?” You whispered to yourself, feeling a twinge of guilt and disgust. It wasnt that you hated omegas, it's just that you hated the world for wanting them so bad. Letting out a sigh. You could feel the growing yearn simmering beneath your skin, beginning to crave the only thing that she cared for in her life…San. But he couldn’t have him. They were friends and he needed to stay away.

San, however, was not the type to be easily deterred, nor did he want to listen to your randomly vague text about being sick. He quickly noticed your sudden withdrawal and lack of communication making him feel a gnawing worry clawing at his insides. With every unanswered text and unreturned phone call, a sense of dread embedded itself in his heart. So, on the afternoon of the fifth day, he decided he couldn’t stand it any longer. Determined to find you and get to the bottom of what was really going on, he raced over to your place, concern fueling his speed.

As he entered your home, the first thing that hit him was an overwhelming, intoxicating sweetness that engulfed his senses. It was your scent—rich, vibrant, and uniquely yours. San had always recognized the floral undertones of your pheromones, but this time it was all-consuming. The moment he inhaled deeply, something primal stirred deep within him, awakening the animalistic instincts of his wolf. You were…

“Doll!!” he called, the sound of his voice echoing against the walls as he hurried down the hall. He found you in the living room, curled up on the floor in the centre of your nest, a book lying loosely in your hands as you were using it to distract yourself. Looking up, your eyes widened with concern and panic, but as your gaze locked with his, San felt an insatiable instinct surge through him, igniting the dormant feelings he had kept buried for so long. A click that was supposed to snap a long time ago.

"San!" You exclaimed, trying to mask the flush creeping up your neck and the growing embarrassment you felt when you looked at him. Of course, he was your mate, it was obvious from the start, but your blockers had prevented the bound from snapping in place leaving you both in an abyss of strange longing and sleepless nights. “You shouldn’t be here. I—I haven’t been taking any blockers.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, shifting the atmosphere between both of you. His mind raced with thoughts he had never dared to voice, yet the raw, potent scent of your pheromones coaxed his animal side to the forefront. The thoughts of claiming you grew stronger with every breath that hitched in this throat. You looked so cute in your little sleep shorts and one of his old band shirts. You were disappointed it doesn’t smell like him anymore when you found it in your room but it was the only thing that was bringing you comfort in this situation.

“I was worried about you,” he admitted softly, stepping closer before stopping himself. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I was beginning to think…”

“San, I don’t think you understand,” You said, desperation creeping into your voice. The sense of heartbreak began to overwhelm you. The foolishness of your actions building up and the pain that the world had forcibly put you through. Hiding your sub-gender to protect yourself from those who wished to use it for their own desires, had now caused you to lose out on time with your mate. Time and moon cycles you would never get back... “I can’t control it, and you being here… it’s making it worse.”

“But why?” he pressed, his wolfish instincts battling against the tender pull of their friendship. “You think I don’t want to be near you? You think I don’t feel something for you, too? We are mates for fuck sakes!”

The confessions hung heavy in the air, laced with a tension neither had anticipated. Your heart raced at his words, a mix of fear and exhilaration swirling within your chest. But you couldn’t help but cry, “Do you even know what you’re saying?” she breathed, her pulse quickening. “You could—” 

“I could, what? Hate you for hiding that you’re an omega? Hate you for being my soulmate?” His voice was intense, eyes glinting with the raw emotion of his desire, he too was now breaking into tears. “I could never hate you. I’ve been… I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“Waiting for what?” You hiccuped, frustration mingling with longing. Your knees pressed firmly against your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“To tell you I’ve always wanted you. Even before this. When I thought you were a beta.” He took a step closer, the space between you buzzing with electricity that pulsed like a heartbeat. Just then, something in the air shifted. It was as if all the unspoken words finally collided, twisting in San’s heart until it could no longer ignore the truth standing before him. He stopped at the foot of your nest, not daring to enter unless you wanted him to. “I didn’t care about anything other than being with you…”

Your body thrummed with a mix of fear and excitement watching him step forward. You lowered your knees ignoring the way your stomach screamed and twisted in a slight burn. The longing that had been nurturing beneath your skin since you first met him. “You mean it?”

“Every fucking word,” San replied, his breath coming quick as he waited for you to grant him permission to enter. The enveloping feeling of your scent and the promise of everything he hadn’t yet explored. His fist balled slightly, trying his best not to let your heat send him into an early rut.

“Come here.” You let out a hand for him which he gladly took. Quickly lunging for you in a second. His lips found yours and his hands found your hips. He caged you onto the floor with a thump as you tipped back onto the soft plush blankets. His nose nudged yours, as he inhaled sharply, smelling the way your scent sparks with the sweetness of fruits and fresh grass, mixing into a calming nature from his scent mixing with yours. “I’m sorry.”

“D-don’t say that.” San nibbles your bottom lip before pulling away. “Don’t ever apologise for the world's mistakes. You didn’t ask to be an Omega. None of this is your fault.”

“Thank you…” You whispered, locking your lips against his once again. And finally, for the first time, it felt like you found your way to where you needed to be. At that moment, the barriers had dissolved, and all that remained was the newfound bond between you and your soulmate. A bond that had been waiting, just beneath the surface, to blossom into something beautifully and unequivocally real.

“I need you.” You beg through his desperate lips.

Your plea was music to San’s ears as he hungrily swallowed each and every noise you made. His hands roughly started to rip clothing, shredding all the fabric in his way until you were bare beneath him. Your legs opened willingly as the tingles spiked through your body, a feeling you’ve never felt before. S-San.” You managed to pull away, tugging on the end of his hair that sat on the nape of his neck. Your breath was hitched as you felt tears pool on your eyes. “I…Everything feels weird. I don’t know..wha—Shhh it's okay, I've got you.”

San laid caged gently on top of you, his voice made a sense of calmness wash over you, and little did you know he had used his alpha voice to silence the anxiety he smelt on you.

His touch became more demanding by the second, his fingers leaving a trail of fire on your skin as he growled a low rumble. "Mine," His voice deep and primal. He closed the distance between you again in an instant, his strong hands gripping your hips while his lips sealed tightly on yours.

Your breath came in short gasps as your shirt was ripped open, strips of fabric scattering across the floor. San's eyes devoured your naked body, his gaze lingering on the telltale signs of your omega nature. Your scent glands, your sweet aroma, the way you presented to him.

"San, please..." You pleaded, your voice trembling with need. You wanted this, craved San's touch, but the intensity of the moment was overwhelming.

San's lips crashed down on yours once again, silencing your further protests. His kiss was fierce and possessive, his tongue demanding entry. You moaned into his mouth, unable to resist the onslaught of pleasure. San's hands roamed freely, squeezing and kneading your sensitive nipples, drawing out little gasps and whimpers that he happily swallowed.He moved lower, inching his lips and tongue down a wet trail on your trembling body. 

He paid special attention to your neck, marking you with bites that would surely leave visible to your friends for weeks to come. But what he stopped at was your gland, inhaling sharply against your soft skin. Your hands tangled in San's hair, urging him on as he suckled and nipped at your sensitive skin. “Alpha please…”

Your confession rang in Sans ears like church bells, feeling his heart skip at the word that spilled from your delicate lips. "You're so fucking beautiful…" San growled, his voice rough with desire. He spread your legs wide, exposing your glistening pussy, already swollen with need. "And you're all mine."

You arched off the pillows as San's fingers delved into your soaked cunt, stroking and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Please, San," you begged again, their voice breathless. "I need you."

San's cock, hard and throbbing, was freed from his pants as he quickly fiddled with his belt and zipper, before he positioned himself at your entrance. "I'm gonna breed you so fucking well, my love," he promised, his eyes blazing with passion. "Gonna knot you so deep, mark you as mine."

You nodded eagerly, your body yearning for San desperately, bucking your hips against him with knitted brows. You felt San's tip slide against you, your slick coated his cock. “Hurry San, I need you so badly.”

You felt your heat surge Through you, your cramps worsening without more. But San was quick to ease your pain, sinking into your tight wet heat thrusting forward, filling you in one smooth motion. You cried out, your sensitive pussy stretching to accommodate San's thick length. San set a relentless pace, pounding into you with brute strength. His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, your fingers digging into San's shoulders as they rode the waves of pleasure, feeling tears prick on the corners of your eyes. “Fuck San, Fuck so b-big…argh.”

"That's it, baby," San grunted, his voice strained. "Feel me, feel how deep I am inside you. my fat cock snug inside your tight little pussy."

Your body clenched around San's cock, your orgasm building rapidly. San's fingers found their sensitive bud, massaging it firmly as he continued to thrust. “You wanna cream around my dick baby? I need to feel you clench around me.”

"Oh fuck, I'm close!" You cried out, tears rolling down your face, staining your flushed cheeks, your body tensing as your heat finally started to subside.

San's own release was imminent. He withdrew almost entirely before slamming back into you, his cock swelling as he reached the point of release. "Cum for me, my love," he commanded, his voice thick with need.

Your body exploded in a cascade of pleasure, yout pussy milking San's cock as they cried out his name begging for him to claim you. “Alpha please, mark me.. please please please.”

San's growl was guttural as he snarled against your neck. His hips jerked uncontrollably, baring his teeth on your gland, sinking his fangs into you. Claiming you. He filled you with his hot load as he groaned against your flesh. San cock twitched and pulsed, knotting and swelling deep inside your willing hole. You laid entangled, breathless and satisfied, in the aftermath. He finally unlatched his teeth lapping up your wound with his tongue  Swiping away all the blood. With San's cock still twitched inside you, his knot keeping you joined you finally felt like you could breathe.

"I love you…" San whispered your name, his voice tender. "My beautiful omega."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and contentment. "I love you too, San. My alpha."

[heroesneedalancer]

Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:

People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?

Comment by u/Meduselde:

Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.

They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.

And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.

EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!

EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.

Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Don't give up. We will get through this.

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛᴏʀʏ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ

PAIRING: Baseball player! Wooyoung x Cheerleader! F! Reader

SYNOPSIS: You can't blame Wooyoung for wanting to fuck upi after a good game, after all, having a hot girlfriend is tiresome.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Semi-public sex, college au, unprotected sex, oral (f, receiving), finger sucking, degradation, daddy kink (literally twice or thrice), wall sex, hints of voyeur! San.

Your smooth moves were contradicting your mind – which was filled with anticipation. It was already mid-game and although your boyfriend's team was leading with four points, the anxiety in you never settled.

Your abdomen is also filled with images of what might be awaiting you if Wooyoung won the cup for your university. It was almost like the feeling of his plump lips resting against your lips still lingered on your skin while he whispered, “I'm gonna win this game and ravage your tight little pussy till you're digging your nails on my back.”

Surely his whisper had been subtle but the same couldn't have been said to deep blish taking over your face which caused your boyfriend to instantly bloom into a satisfied grin.

It was at the last round, that the atmosphere turned extremely silent – patiently waiting for Wooyoung to pitch the ball that would get his team the point to win the tournament.

In barely a few seconds – as you watch, loud cheers erupt, drowning out the loud ‘all out’. You exclaim in happiness, almost running down to where your lover stood with a proud smile while his eyes stalked your steps.

You immediately throw your arms around him, his own hands wrapping around your waist as he places a soft peck behind your ear. The subtle action has you clenching your thighs in excitement. “Congratulations, baby.”

You mentally thank your vocal chords for not betraying you. “Mhm, I hope you still remember the promise I made you, pretty.” You nibble on your lower lip from his words – his hands caress the sides of your waist sensually.

And before you knew it, Wooyoung's large hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away from the crowd, desperately trying not to draw attention to yourself. You expected him to pull you to his car to take you home but your surprise only grows when he drags you away to the sports locker rooms.

There was barely anyone in sight when Wooyoung pulled you into one of the empty sections inside the locker room, locking the door behind him.

It was a narrow space, but big enough to give the both of you room to fuck away like rabbits. “Did you seriously think about fucking me all the while you were on the field?” You ask as you wrap your arms around his shoulder – prepping kisses onto his jawline. “Having a hot girlfriend is tiresome, alright? You know how hard it was to not imagine you wrapped around my dick while wearing this short ass skirt of yours?”

His thigh locates itself in between your thighs, letting you grind over his tight jeans. Wooyoung gathers your hair in one big ponytail tugging at your hair to present your neck to himself.

It doesn't take long for him to find your sweet spot, sucking the area hard till you're a moaning mess in a few seconds – your hips grinding down on him desperately.

His tongue slides over the dark purple mark when his hands yank up your skirt to tear off your underwear. A chuckle from him when he feels your wetness on the pads of his fingers has your face flushing red. “You're fucking dripping, baby.”

Moving his hands to the hem of your shirt to effortlessly pull it off. With a swift move, his fingers skillfully unbuckle your bra, pushing the fabric off your body. The sudden exposure to the cold air causes your nipples to perk up.

Your hands mindlessly travel down to unbuckle his belt, hastily. Wooyoung is fast in helping your desperate hands as he holds your wrists in one hand, while throwing away his belt to the floor. But nonetheless, he shakes his head at you, “You gotta stop being impatient, princess.”

Although contradicting his words, Wooyoung suddenly moves down to his knees – his hands coming up to grasp your thighs from below. You yelp when – without a warning, Wooyoung hoists your right leg on his shoulder – leaning in between your thighs to attach his lips to your clit.

Your hands swiftly find home in between his hair locks as his tongue laps at your slick. You practically chew on your teeth to avoid the loud moans threatening to escape you. But your eyes shut close in pleasure as your lips stretch into a satisfied grin from finally feeling the pleasure coarse through your body.

Wooyoung's hand travels to the back of your ass, squeezing your flesh momentarily before pulling your pussy closer to himself – till his head is buried underneath your white skirt.

His tongue darks out to lap at your wet folds in a fast pace – which has your hands moving away from his hair to desperately find a surface to hold on to.

But, of course, Wooyoung almost had a smug smile painting his face when he heard your muffled noises which you tried to hold in desperately. Your eyes roll back when you feel your orgasm approaching – your bottom lip falling from the confines of your teeth as loud moans erupt from you. Your hazy brain could barely worry about making it obvious to the people outside.

“W-woo, Gonna cum” Your words could be confused for whimpers and a series of loud moans fall off your lips as you climax. Your hips twitch in Wooyoung's hold all while he moves his lips to press soft kisses to your inner thighs.

Rising to his feet, Wooyoung caresses the back of your neck, “Breath for me, baby.” He places butterfly kisses on your neck, “You did so well for me, love.” And soon, your pants lower as you get over your high.

“Want a break, princess?” His words immediately have you shaking your head, “Want you to fuck me, now.” He cocks his eyebrows at your demand, and the immediate “Please” from you doesn't help. “You know how to ask for something, baby.”

“Can you please fuck me, daddy?” Hoping the nickname makes him cave and ram his cock into you, your hands tug on his black baseball shirt. A smirk makes its way onto your lips, when Wooyoung groans under his breath – his hands almost ripping off his own pants as he hastily makes his way out of them.

And before you could speak a word, Wooyoung's fingers shove themselves into your mouth, his hand coming down to wrap your leg around his waist as he lines his cock in between your slippery folds. “My fucking pleasure, princess. You're gonna keep your mouth fucking shut while daddy fucks his cum into you alright?”

Your muffled whimpers and pathetic nod manages to break Wooyoung’s patience as he grips your hips closer to his – letting his thick cock slam its way into you. Your eyes roll back yet again, your hips immediately losing control at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

Wooyoung slowly lets his cock slip out a bit before he is slamming into you again at a ruthless pace, his hand bruisingly gripping at your flesh. “Don't you fucking love being treated like a dirty slut?” the noises of skin-slapping resonate throughout the room – along with your muffled moans.

“You love getting fucked against some wall with barely any privacy? You wouldn't mind if someone barges in and watches the way I fill your little pussy with my cock, hmm?”

Your spit slips past your mouth, dripping down your chin from the way your brain can only think about Wooyoung's cock movements.

And out of nowhere, there was a familiar voice outside the door. Wooyoung curses under his breath, his hips barely halting from slapping against yours.

“Yo, where did Wooyoung run off to? I swear I couldn't see him anywhere.” San's voice was almost muffled from how farther he was from where you stood but the thought of getting caught by your boyfriend’s best friend almost has you clenching around Wooyoung.

“Fuck, San can barge in here any second, you know that right, baby?” His hips slam harder into you, for each thrust. “Maybe, he should. I think San would love to know what kind of slut is hiding behind that pretty face, wouldn't he?”

You can barely respond to Wooyoung's obvious question when you feel his fingers rub circles on your clit. And the action had you squirting all over his cock, your hold clenching down on him tightly. The sight of your orgasm and your warm walls closing around him, brings Wooyoung closer to his own orgasm sooner than he imagined. Wooyoung moans under his breath, as spurts of hot cum fill you up in seconds.

Both of you take a few minutes to ride out your orgasm – while you lean into each other's arms. “Fuck, that- was hot, babe.” Wooyoung says once he pulls his soft cock out of your hole.

As the both of you dress yourself back in your clothes quickly, you try not to make any more noises as you get out of the confined space. But you yelp loudly when the both of you come face-to-face with the wide-eyed San, whose face was as flushed as the tip of his cock which laid hard on the palm of his hands.

[torpublishinggroup]

This advertisement is for Swordcrossed by Freya Marske.

WHAT’S IT ABOUT

Mattinesh Jay is the chronically responsible eldest son and dutiful heir striving to keep his family’s business running. Luca Piere is a menace of a con artist desperately trying to escape his past by taking up the blade. When the pair meet, swords clash, and sparks fly. Soon, they’re entangled in a conspiracy that may bring Matti’s house to ruin if they don’t work together.

Want to see if it’s to your liking? We’ve included an excerpt from chapter one below.

Chapter 1 Matti laid his fingers on the polished edge of the bar’s wooden surface and forced himself to stop counting sheep. And yards of twill. And looms in need of repair, and outstanding debts.

Instead, he counted today’s collection of ink smudges, bruise-black on the brown skin of his hands: six. He counted the number of blue dyes that would have been used in the fabric of the bartender’s layered skirt: four, possibly five if the palest shade was true dimflower and not just the result of fading.

The tense throb of pain like a fist clenched in his hair eased, grudgingly, to a quiet ache. Bearable. Normal.

It was busy in the drinking house, the post-dinner hour that usually found Matti heading back to his study to finish the paperwork that a member of his family had tugged him away from in order to eat. Matti counted the number of flavoured jenever bottles on the shelf behind the bar—fifteen—in the time it took Audry to finish serving her current customer and sweep her sky-coloured skirts to stand in front of Matti. “And here’s a face we haven’t seen in a while! Something tells me you’re here for a celebration, Mr. Jay.”

Matti hoped the smile he’d pulled onto his face wasn’t the wrong size, or the wrong shade of abashed. “News travels fast.”

“Mattinesh Jay and Sofia Cooper. A match surprising exactly no one.”

Matti kept the smile going. There was a silence in which Audry politely didn’t say, Pity she’s in love with someone else, and so Matti didn’t have to say, Yes, isn’t it?Audry said, “Wait here a moment. I’ve got something in the back that I think will do nicely.”

Matti cast a glance over the room as Audry disappeared. His cousin Roland made an extravagant sighing motion and pretended to check his watch when Matti’s eyes landed on their table. A burst of laughter came from a dark-skinned woman nearby; she was wearing a dress that rode high at the knee to reveal a fall of lace like frothing water, a northern style of garment that Matti’s own northerner mother seldom wore these days.

At the closest table the Mason Guildmaster, Lysbette Martens, was deep in conversation with a senior member of the Guild of Engineers. Martens met Matti’s gaze with her own and nodded brief acknowledgement. He was sure she was weighing his presence as consciously as he was weighing hers. This was a place to be seen, after all.

“Here you are. Red wine for young lovers.”

Matti turned around again. Audry named the price for the bottle as she uncorked it and set it on the bar. Matti paid her, ignoring the lurch like a fishhook in his stomach at the amount on the credit notes he was so casually handing over. Mattinesh Jay, firstborn of his distinguished House, had no reason not to indulge in one of the finest bottles of wine that money could buy.

No reason that anyone here would know about, anyway.

Matti took the bottle in one hand and hooked three glasses with the other. Making his way over to the table, his mind circled back to dwell on the wrong sort of numbers. The money in Matti’s purse was painstakingly calculated: enough for the first round of engagement drinks, and enough for him to hire a top-of-the-range duellist who would step forward in the awkwardly likely event of someone challenging for Sofia’s hand at the wedding itself.

Matti’s skin prickled cold at the very thought of what might happen if Adrean Vane challenged against Matti’s marriage to Sofia and won. His family’s last hope would be gone. Matti would have failed them in this, the most useful thing he could do for them.

He was so caught up in this uneasy imagining as he wove through the room that he collided, hard, with another person’s shoulder. Matti was both tall and broad, not easily unbalanced; the unfortunate other member of the collision made a grab for Matti’s coat, couldn’t get a good grip, and tripped to the ground with a caught-back “Fu—”

Matti tried to step backwards. They were crammed into a small space between tables and there were people moving around them. His first panicked instinct had been to keep the wine bottle upright and the glasses safe, so he didn’t have a hand free to steady himself on a chair.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened next, except that he ended up wobbling and stepping forward instead, and he felt his boot come down on something that was not the floorboards. A small, pathetic, grinding mechanical sound crawled up Matti’s nerves, heel to head, and reached his ears even amidst the noise of the busy room.

“Sorry!” he said at once. “I’m sorry. Was that—Oh, Huna’s teeth.”

The man on the floor jerked his head up, staring at Matti, and Matti stared back.

For a moment all that Matti could see was the wide, straight line of the man’s mouth, set beneath an equally straight nose, and the frame that set off the whole: the dark, luminous copper-red hair that seemed to be trying to grow in about ten different directions.

The man’s tongue darted out in a nervous mannerism, wetting his lower lip. Something in Matti’s own mouth tried to happen in a yearning echo.

“Would you please lift,” the man said precisely, “your godsdamned foot?” Heat flooded Matti’s face. He snatched his foot backwards with enough force that his heel collided with a chair leg.

The redheaded man stood, his fingers closed convulsively tight around a small velvet bag. His brown coat was shabby and made of a coarsely woven fabric, though his shirt was good and his trousers had probably been equally so before they’d been overwashed into a patchy shine.

“Fuck fuck shitting—fuck,” the man said in tones of despair, with a lilt to his accent that placed him at least one city-state farther east: Cienne, or possibly Sanoy. He shook the contents of the bag into his palm and ventured into new realms of inappropriate language as he did so.

Enough people had witnessed their collision, or had their heads turned by the stream of expletives, that there were a fair few necks craning to see what was in the man’s hand. Matti, at whom the shaking fingers of this hand were pointed most directly, couldn’t help seeing for himself the ragged, glinting pile of cogs and jewels and glass. Only the intact cover—monogrammed in a swirling, engraved H—spoke of this pile’s previous existence as a pocket watch. A very expensive pocket watch, by the look of it.

The man’s breath hissed out through his teeth. “Guildmaster Havelot is going to use my arm bones as a fucking lathe. He only had it made to order, and he only trusted me to pick it up, didn’t he? Two hundred gold. Fucking fuck.”

“I’m so sorry,” Matti said again. He recognised the name: Havelot was the Woodworker Guildmaster in Cienne. “Truly. I can—” He stopped. The abrupt lack of his words created a silence that seemed to suck noise into itself, as conversations died to murmurs and the onlookers sensed something interesting.

The man looked straight at Matti with a stubborn lift of his chin. His brows, the same absurd colour as the rest of his hair, had sprung up into the beginnings of hope; as Matti’s silence grew longer, they lowered again. And then lowered farther. He swept a look down and then slowly up Matti’s own outfit, and now pride warred with scorn in the way those maddening lips pressed together.

Matti felt sick. His own coat was made of the finest wool, a midnight blue cut perfectly to his figure, and the rest of his clothes were of the same quality. He was holding a bottle of extremely good wine. Anybody looking at him would make immediate assumptions about the amount of ready money that Matti might have, and the ease with which he would be able to reimburse a poor clerk, if he’d just ruined a pricey piece of artificer’s skill that the man’s employer had trusted him to travel all the way to Glassport to collect.

Of course they would make these assumptions. That was the point.

Matti swallowed and felt the burning heaviness of his purse redouble. He’d be left with enough to a hire a duellist, yes, but not one of the highest skill. It wouldn’t buy himself and his family the absolute security they needed.

His friends were looking at him. It seemed like every pair of eyes in the drinking house was looking, and in another moment the murmurs of curiosity would turn to murmurs of disapprobation. I thought Matti Jay had more honour than that, they would say. What’s two hundred gold to someone like him?

Besides, the plain fact of the matter was that Matti had broken the watch. And he couldn’t pretend that he and this man with his proud mouth and poor coat, patched at one elbow, were on an equal footing. Even if he were left without a bronze, Matti would still have influence, connections, the weight of his family’s name. That was still worth something. For now.

So that was that.

“I—I really am sorry.” Matti set the wine and glasses down on the corner of the nearest table and pulled his purse from inside his coat. He kept his gaze on the man’s face, on a pair of eyes that were either grey or brown—impossible to tell from this angle—and urgently willed them not to look away. To a degree that seemed irrational, he wanted to banish the judgemental expression from the man’s face. “Of course I’ll cover the cost. Two hundred gold. Who did the work?”

The man glanced down at the metal scraps in his hand, as though the answer might be hidden in the pile. “Speck,” he said at last. “Frans Speck, in Amber Lane.”

“He’s a fair man. Tell him what happened and he’ll rush through the repair job,” Matti said. He held out the century notes.

The man tipped the wreckage of the watch back into the bag and closed his hand around the money, slow and wary. His fingertips had rough patches that scraped against Matti’s own, sending a tingle up Matti’s arm.

“I appreciate it,” the man said. He looked less cold now, though still nowhere near warm. “You’ve saved my life. Really.”

Matti forced himself to smile. Forced himself to say, “It’s nothing,” as though it really were nothing.

The man nodded awkwardly at Matti and tucked both money and bag into a pocket. Then he turned and was gone, headed for the door.

Matti somehow made his way to his table and sat down. His heart was pounding so loudly that he could barely hear anything else, and he wanted to shout at his own blood to be quiet and let him think. He needed to be alone in his study. He needed to contemplate his options, and make lists, and pore over the accounts for the thousandth time, in case they transmuted themselves into a picture of prosperity instead of the ugly, desperate reality that nobody outside of Matti’s immediate family knew about.

“Two hundred gold,” he said, before he could stop himself. “Two hundred.”

“We saw. Hard luck,” his cousin Roland said, making a face.

Perhaps it was stretching the term to call Roland and Wynn his friends, but they were the closest thing Matti had to members of that category, and the only people he’d been able to think of to form his wedding party. At least the three of them never found it too hard to pick up their acquaintanceship again, even if it had been months since their last conversation.

Wynn turned the bottle of wine to inspect the yellow butterfly on the label. “How appropriate that we’re drinking wine from your betrothed’s own winery.”

“Audry’s idea of a joke, I think,” Matti said. The word betrothed had landed in his ears like a piece of music played in an unfamiliar key; his mind was still turning it over, trying to decide how it felt about the melody. His hand was shaking as he poured the first glass, sending the stream of dark wine shivering and slipping. He’d steadied it by the time he poured the second.

“Huna smile,” he said, opening the toasts by lifting his own glass. “Thanks for agreeing to stand up with me, you two.”

“Drown your sorrows in this one, and by the time we hit the next bottle you’ll remember that you’re here to celebrate. And that once you’re married to Sofia Cooper,” Roland went on, lowering his voice sympathetically, “Jay House will be rolling in enough money to replace a hundred watches.”

Except that Matti had to get himself successfully married in the first place. And he’d just lost his best guarantee of doing so.

He let the old, gorgeous wine flood down his throat until a good third of his glass had vanished. He felt lightheaded; it had to be panic, because the wine couldn’t be working that fast. Panic and a sense of becoming unmoored. And the image of the man’s face, pale and sharply beautiful, gazing up from where he was kneeling at Matti’s feet.

“A fair effort,” Wynn said, when Matti put the glass down. “But I’ll show you children of Huna how it’s done.” He raised his own glass. “Agar fill your plates and cups.”

Matti smiled and drank again, accepting the toast. Maybe the wine was working after all. He could still feel his panic, the wound-up watch of his worry, but he shoved it away into a recess of his mind: its own small, dark velvet bag. It would be safe enough there. It would last until tomorrow. Matti’s ability to worry was shatterproof.

For now, he was going to drink.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Maggie Smith (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie)— Look, ok she's best known now for Downton Abbey and the Potter franchise, but the woman won an Oscar in 1969, so that makes her eligible in my oh so humble opinion. She starred opposite Olivier in her first major play role (which was filmed) and her wit and beauty was just the epitome of everything I wanted to be as a child

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

Maggie Smith:

[raitonsfw]

Hi I’d like to request for Dazai x fem!gf reader and ab that Dazai couldn’t get the thoughts off of his mind since the night before reader allowed him to finish inside for the first time in their relationship and it’s just kinda got him weird ( not in a bad way ) but in a way he wants to do it again until he dies? Also breeding kink? Thank you,

𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai had pleaded day after day to let him cum inside you and you were always so worried about the consequences, a simple ‘no’ leaving your mouth every single time. But the one time you say yes after he begged for it, yearning for it from the very depths of his arousal, Dazai becomes absolutely obsessed with breeding you. And the next day is nothing but new territory for you as he pushes you to your limit, over and over again…and well, guess it’s time to start shopping for the nursery.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut (holy fuck y’all), fem!reader, needy-fucked out-desperate!dazai, breeding kink, cunnilingus, cum eating, creampies (a lot of them), squirting, overstimulation, dubcon, slight masturbation (dazai), dirty talk, yearning, begging, desperation, rough p in v, many positions (missionary, doggy style, mating press), dazai has insane stamina, talks of having children, four rounds (probs unrealistic but who cares?), aftercare, pet names (baby, princess, darling, my love)

a/n: i got really really really carried away, my bad. Fr my sex probably wrote this instead of my mind, im so ashamed of myself. anywho, enjoy my version of breedy dazai! wc: 1.5k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

“Please, Y/N, one more time.” You heard Dazai beg in your ear, his cock sliding into your already abused cunt and you let out a tiny bruised noise. “I promise it’ll be the last round.”

How did you get like this exactly? Underneath him for what felt like an eternity with cum and your squirt dripping down the backs of your thighs and pooling thick against the bedsheets? You knew it had something to do with last night, but your mind was so hazy you couldn’t quite puzzle the pieces together. 

“Can I, baby? Please, just one time.” “Fuck, ‘M so close, need to cum so badly.” You remembered Dazai groaning last night, the memory finally faltering up in your mind. And of course, you weren’t thinking– you said ‘yes’, moaned, practically whined for his seed as his dick drilled into your sweet spot over and over and over– You should’ve thought it through but as you heard the telltale grunts from Dazai, burying his head into your chest with a heady moan, your senses became distorted and you begged for him to fill you up.

And he sure fucking did his job too, ropes of cum spurting against your cervix as he stilled inside you, pressing up against it harshly. You couldn’t feel anything else but his cum at the time, it was so wet and so warm inside you as your entire body went numb– and your mind too. You definitely thought once or twice about having his kids but that fortunately brought you back from your sublime wanting, reaching down for Dazai’s hand and squeezing it tightly as he shuddered against you.

You remembered his face when he pulled out, his cock damp with your arousal and the tip wet with remnants of the cum he fucked inside of you and you could see something whirling through his brain as he sat there for a second on his haunches, collecting himself. Dazai had watched his cum drip out of you and run down your folds like it was some sort of prize he had won– and was waiting for it to be given to him. Before you blink off the orgasm that had piled through you, his tongue had caught wind of your leaking cunt and you arched your back off the bed, clutching the brunette’s strands with a whimper.

“Dazai–!” 

“Mm?” He had looked up at you, with those precious eyes of his still completely clouded with lust and you let out a sharp moan as he plunged his tongue into you, lapping at all the cum he had filled you with. It was possibly the hottest thing you ever witnessed in your life as his bandaged arms came to rub at the sides of your hips, his mouth moving skillfully against your folds and you felt his tongue curl to get every drop. Dazai tasted you through yet another orgasm, it wracking your body with immense pleasure and once you unclenched from his pointed tongue, he crawled onto you with a fervent kiss.

“What’s gotten into you, my love?” You had asked him once you managed to pull away, carefully rubbing down the extent of his chest, soothing the small scars that shrouded the frailness of his figure.

“Nothing, princess. I just really wanted to taste you.” 

And maybe breed you. Dazai didn’t know what to do– ever since he had felt your pussy clench around him as he leaked into you– finally filled you up with his cum, his mind had been constantly begging for it again. The entire next day you were gone, he had been at a loss for words– his dick awfully hard in the confines of his trousers as he paced around the living room in distress. He tried to get himself off, slicking his hand up and down his cock with heavy intent on finishing… but he wanted to finish inside you– it drove him nearly mad as the precum bubbled at his tip but never truly let him release.

He waited for you all day, all fucking day and when you walked in; you were basically jumped. He hauled you over his shoulder with a kiss and a promise, something you were so deftly aware of and you got excited– you wanted to see what he had in store. Your boyfriend was quite theatrical, you could say; sometimes he’d end up with his hands tied in his own worn out bandages and other times, you’d end up with marks in places you didn’t even know he could reach. Very eccentric was your Dazai, the master of heeding your sex like it was dessert served on a silver platter.

And oh, that’s right– you’ve been in three different fucking positions now. The first time, you two didn’t even make it to the bed; he threw you against the plush pillows of the sofa and ripped open your blouse like it was a present, mouthing at the lacey bra you wore underneath. His fingers snaked into your panties like second nature, finding your clit and rubbing against it to warm her up. And a few minutes later, he sunk into you with a groan as you sucked him into your tight heat. And guess what he had started to beg as soon as started to thrust deep inside you?

“Baby, please can I cum inside again? Would mean the world ‘t me… I wanna–” And your response had been the same as the night before. A yearning yes, complete with a moan of his name to spur him on even more.

You could feel the cum seeping out of you as he laid you down onto the edge of the bed, the second round much more languid than the first. Dazai rolled his hips into you, peppering kisses down your chest and through the crevices of your neck and all you could do was push back against him in earnest as another orgasm crept up, threatening to burst in your nerves and it overtook you with a tremble. He came with a whimper of your name, seemingly more desperate than before, his eyes glancing down to your cramped pussy and watching the cum ooze out of you.

“Need you still, can we go another round?” 

You were flipped onto your tummy, his hand pushing against it so you can get into the position he needed you in– on your hands and knees, with your back arched beautifully to show the swell of your ass. Before you could complain about feeling weak, he plunged into you. Your knees nearly collapsed in on themselves, but Dazai held you up with the hand on your tummy and plowed into you like it was his last day on Earth. And yet again, you chased your overwhelming orgasm as he bruised your cervix with every thrust. 

This time was different as a wave of heat rushed over you– some type of pressure you’ve never felt before and you couldn’t even warn him as you squirted all over his cock with a shaky cry. You tightened around him, pulling his third orgasm from him inadvertently. “H-Holy shit, baby…”

And that’s how you got here, with Dazai pleading in your ear for one more fucking round. 

You were in another position now; he moved you into a mating press and your legs shook with overstimulation as he held onto them. You honestly weren’t sure if you could cum a fourth time and it was the same with Dazai, but all he wanted you to do was milk him dry. He never expressed it to you, but you knew in the back of your mind that you made him into this monster, this goddamn fucker who wouldn’t stop til his cock leaked out nothing.

“Doing so good for me, darling. S-So fucking good. Wanna breed this pussy, till you're so full– till you have no choice but to have my children.” His eyes were rolling back as you stared up at him with dazed eyes, his words hitting you just right and your brain short-circuited with such a dangerous desire. His entire body had started to shake from overexertion and his praises were babbled on his tongue, stuttering along with his hips and you clenched around him as he thrusted into you and you felt like everything was falling apart around you. You saw stars as you came one last time, your vision blacking out as you arched into Dazai’s chest. 

He followed shortly after and as he came, nearly nothing came out but he still tried to fuck it into you anyway. Dazai let your legs fall against the bed as he pulled out, kissing everywhere he could reach in the process. “Did so well, my love. Was so perfect for me, I love you so much.” 

The praises didn’t stop for a while, even as he carried you to the bath and let you soak first before he even dared to try to fit in beside you. Dazai changed the sheets as you caressed the marks on your skin, bubbles soaping up the bruises and you whined out for him a few minutes later. He came running when you did so, making sure you were alright and you clinged onto his arm, unwrapping his bandages with a graceful twist. “Get in with me…” 

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[thewispsings]

pairing: alex albon, oscar piastri, lando norris x reader

summary: playing monopoly with oscar alex and lando after oscar’s maiden win in hungary

part of the redbull!reader universe

─────

“So how do you play?” you questioned, pulling out the instructions manual from the box and taking a good look at it. 

“You don’t know how to play Monopoly?” Alex questioned, turning to look at you in surprise. 

“I was more of a “Game Of Life’ person.” you shrugged, you slowly took money from the box, placing it at your side where nobody could see it, while the others were busy talking to each other. 

“Oh yeah, me too.” Oscar chimed in, smiling at you from across the table. 

Alex and you were sitting side to side on the private plane, while Oscar and Lando were sitting in front of you. Normally you would be taking a plane home with Max, but after the awkward events of Oscar’s first win, you wanted, no needed, to be on the plane with them. In case a fight broke out, not to stop it, but to film it. Then you could blackmail them for money if they didnt want you to post it. 

Although your ideas now seem frugal, because they seem to be better than ever, happily joking around with each other. Annoyingly enough.  

After Alex thoroughly explained how to play, all four of you got started. First round, you won. Cue Lando whining, “You’re cheating, arent you?” he glared at you from across the table. 

You placed the money you had taken from the box before the game under your thigh, “Don’t be a sore loser, Lan.” you laughed. 

Second round? You won. 

“Are you cheating?” Oscar echoed, squinted his eyes at you, you shifted, glancing down at the stack of money by your thigh. Yes you definitely were. 

“You have no faith in me.” you huffed shaking your head. 

Third round? You won. 

“You know what?” Alex threw his small stack of money onto the table, “I dont want to play anymore.” he huffed crossing his arms over his chest. 

You laughed, the three men had glum looks on their face, clearly not happy with the outcome of the games. “Good. Because we landed.” you muttered, secretly pocketing the fake monopoly money into your pocket. 

No way you were going to be able to sneak it back into the box without Lando noticing, not with the way he was glaring daggers at you. 

Hopping out of the plane you walked over to Oscar, “You did good today.” you muttered wrappin gyou rarms around his neck, while he wrapped his around your waist, “Im proud of you.” you beamed, pulling back and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. 

He turned beat red almost instantly. Struggling to answer, you smiled, turning and ready to make your way home. 

Oscars eyes involuntarily travled down your body, his eyes widening at the sigh of monopoly money peaking from you back pocket. He called out your name, but was cut off by a loud shriek from Lando. 

“You muppet!” he yelled, pointing at your back pocket, “You did cheat! I knew it!” he took off into a sprint. 

You yelled, abandoning your bags and making it run for it, “Come here!” yelled Lando, ignoring the laughter coming from everyone around them, “You cheater! You bloody cheater!” 

notes: hope you enjoyed!!

[caws5749]

Useless in A Good Way

A/N: oh, another fic where she writes a pregnant reader… YES IM SORRY but I’ve dreamt of being pregnant since I was little and it’s my biggest dream so here we go again 😭I’m working on requests as well but this just popped into my head. I felt very... out of practice with the last few pieces but writing this... I feel good again.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head at some inappropriate joke Tony made after Clint won the round of whatever card game they were playing. Natasha’s hand rested on your thigh, squeezing accidentally while she laughed. The music played in the background, barely heard over the nearly hundred voices that filled the main room of the compound for the latest party Tony had deemed necessary.

You turned your head towards your wife to admire her for a moment. Nat caught your eye, sending you an admiring smile that she reserved only for you.

“You look radiant,” she murmured, leaning in closer to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You blushed, loving the red that still tainted your cheeks after four years of marriage.

"You look like home," you replied quietly, just barely loud enough for her- and Steve (curse that super soldier's hearing)- to hear.

She really did look like home. Her dress was long sleeve and snug, ending just below her knees and made of the softest cashmere. It was cozy and warm and loving, just like her, just like home.

The smile she let show threatened to overtake her lips, so she ducked her head as she always did. Perhaps even more so, considering the amount of alcohol she'd ingested.

You were the only one not drinking, which probably had something to do with the fact that you were seven months pregnant... with twins. You felt like you could hardly move and you the thought of two more months made you simultaneously groan and smile. Not to mention, you hadn't used your powers in a few months; the pregnancy hormones had affected your abilities in a questionable way, and the last time you had tried to let the familiar cool water flow from your hands, nothing had happened. It simply seemed that they had.. petered out. And you were warned by Dr. Cho to avoid trying to use them too much anyway.

"I should probably go check on the intelligence report," you said, sighing. Given that you were the only completely sober being present, it was your task to check on the latest intelligence report currently running after some curious and daunting messages of late.

Natasha nearly pouted, before standing and gripping your forearms with the gentle strength that only your wife could perfect. You groaned, all of your muscles giving maximum effort to stand from a seated position, your large abdomen giving you little room to move.

"God, I have two more months of that," you muttered.

"And it's only going to get harder," Clint chimed in, chuckling sympathetically. You sent him a mock glare.

"I'll go with you," Nat stated, a hand falling to your back. She hardly let you go anywhere alone, not that you minded. Living in the Avengers compound was one of the safest places there was, but it also was a target.

"Sit, I'll go," Steve said, "I've got to check on Bucky anyway."

"Finally, Natasha, it is your turn to lose so one money," Tony grinned, shuffling the deck of cards. Your wife retook her seat, rolling her eyes.

Steve met you next to the couch, offering an arm, which you took gladly. The team had been nothing but supportive after finding out about the pregnancy. They were all in agreement regarding your safety and protection. It was automatic at this point for them to watch over you, something that warmed your heart daily.

"How is Bucky?" you questioned.

"He misses being able to walk," Steve chuckled. "That's what he gets for fighting on a torn knee."

"It's been a week since surgery, right?"

He nodded. "And another week before he'll be able to get up and walk on it."

You hummed sympathetically. It was what all of you hated the most- feeling useless, being unable to be an Avenger. You had grown quite accustomed to the feeling.

Your friend, reached out with his other hand to open the door for you, following you inside the intelligence room, curious what the report would say too.

You studied the screen and briefly leafed through some papers, stopping at another odd message printed. Your brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"It's a date. Today," you answered, looking up to read his expression.

You'd seen the confusion and slight nervousness in his face before glass shattered in the not-so-far distance. Steve looked at you, panicked.

"We need to get you to the bunker."

"We don't even know what's-"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted. Shouting then could be heard, growing closer in a split second. "Now."

You moved as quickly as you could, exiting only after Steve cleared the hallway. The two of you moved with expertise, albeit a bit slower than normal, towards the stairs. He helped you down the stairs, hurrying you along without rushing you. When you turned down the hallway that held the bunker, several beings masked in dark leather suits and glowing face shields awaited you.

"Stay back," Steve commanded, not even waiting for a response before running toward them at full speed. He pulled a knife from his pocket and set to work. You felt utterly useless, powerless, as you watched them swarm him. A few tried to sneak past to you, but he wouldn't let them come even close. You stood, anxious, barely breathing. Two swift hits to the stomach and knees had Steve knocked on the ground, stumbling for his footing. On instinct, you stepped forward, hands out in front of you.

You had no thoughts as you summoned the familiar tingle of your powers, forgetting completely that they may not even work for you. When coolness flowed through your fingertips, you only then realized you hadn't been able to do that for a while, and you probably shouldn't be doing it now.

But it didn't matter, there were enemies at hand, and you were an Avenger.

So you let a wave hit the men with everything you had. It was nowhere what you had attempted to do, but it worked nonetheless. It gave Steve the opportunity he needed to jump up and take them out quickly.

He took the remaining problems out with ease and then ran back to you.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, you?"

"You shouldn't have used your powers," he said aloud, more a fact and realization at what you had done rather than a scolding.

"I know."

"Bunker," he stated, gently pushing you towards the door. "Stay inside until you get the 'all clear."

You nodded, finding the hidden keypad and locking yourself inside.

++++++

When Steve returned back up to the party, he found several similar bodies strewn about and a few slightly out of breath Avengers.

"Y/N?" Natasha demanded.

"In the bunker, safe and unharmed."

She nodded, a thanks to her good friend.

"Anybody know what the hell is going on?" Clint asked, setting his bow and arrow down.

"Just today's date written down in a message, we just saw it in the report but couldn't piece anything together," Steve answered.

Natasha heard that and knew there was nothing to answer for now, so she started towards the hallway.

"Nat, she used her powers."

Your wife turned on her heel at that, whipping in the soldier's direction faster than lightning.

"Call Cho," was all she said.

++++++

"Natasha is entering," JARVIS announced, causing you to sit upright, eyes glued to the door.

"Oh, thank god," your wife muttered, seeing you sitting unscathed. "Are you alright?" She rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, eyes scanning your form, hand coming to rest against your cheek after she found nothing.

"I'm fine. Are you?" You turned to plant a kiss to her palm.

"Fine. You used your powers."

"Well, somewhat. They didn't work exactly right," you responded, frowning.

"What happened?"

You told her how you had saved Steve, well only by giving him a slight edge.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked gently, picking up on your rather displeased tone.

"I feel useless," you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes as you shifted your gaze downward. Gentle fingers tugged your chin upwards until you were forced to meet those familiar emerald eyes.

"You are growing two human beings. That is not useless. I know you aren't avenging right now, but you did just save Steve, even if your powers were limited. Just because you can't do what you normally used to doesn't mean you aren't doing other things that aren't just as amazing, baby."

The corners of your lips twitched upwards, your mood already lifting.

"That's my girl. Now let's go upstairs, Cho is going to check you out."

"Natasha, I'm-"

"I don't care if you're fine," she tutted. "I'm not taking any chances."

With that, she kissed you softly and helped you upright.

++++++

BONUS

"And you know what she said?" Steve asked, a hand placed over his heart as he sat next to Bucky in bed. "You look like home." He sighed softly, as he thought of his two friends who were so beyond perfect for one another.

"How is that supposed to make my knee better?"

[goldfades]

★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)

❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!

─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

APRIL 1, 2024

THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.

Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.

Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.

As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.

"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.

The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.

The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.

A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.

Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.

Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."

Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."

"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."

Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"

Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."

Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."

"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."

Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."

It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.

Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."

Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."

Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."

Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."

Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."

The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.

──

"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"

Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.

Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.

Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.

Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.

"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.

Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."

Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.

"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."

Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."

Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."

"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."

Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."

"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."

The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.

You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.

The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.

After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.

"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."

Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."

You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."

──

APRIL 5, 2024

"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.

The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.

"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."

Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"

Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"

You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."

Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."

As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"

The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.

As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.

But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.

Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.

You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.

"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.

As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.

All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.

In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.

"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.

"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.

She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.

Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.

The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.

Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.

Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.

In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.

"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."

The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.

As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."

When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.

"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"

The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.

You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.

As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.

Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.

"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.

"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."

There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"

"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.

Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."

You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."

Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."

You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."

Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.

Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.

After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.

And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.

"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."

His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."

The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.

As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.

Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."

Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"

You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."

As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.

──

"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[bigwishes]

Muscle BULL

(at time of writing muscle bull won the vote so I hope you enjoy)

Mikey took one last picture in front of the gym mirror, showing off every bulging muscle of his tight and toned frame. He typed his wish into the ask box "I wish for a change (but I wanna keep my muscle)" and looked into the mirror waiting for his changes to begin.

As soon as he pressed send Mikey felt his body begin to pulse and swell. He heard the sound of his skin stretching as his muscles swelled up underneath. Mikey grabbed his pec feeling it bulge and swell bigger, the pulses of growth matching his heart beat.

"ah, fuck yeaahhhh" Mikey moaned flexing in the mirror.

The growth began to slow down, Mikey put on some cloths feeling them tight over his massive body, unable to stop flexing to himself and laughing at how muscle bigger he had grown. He left the locker room to test his new massive body in the gym.

After an hour in the gym Mikey realised he had lifted a barbell maybe once. He was too busy staring at his massive frame in the gym mirror. Other guys around him looked puny, he looked almost over grown but he loved the size.

Mikey took a deep breath flexing again but feeling something strange in his pelvis. A butterfly like sensation stirring in his groin, Mikey looked down and moaned watching as the fabric around his dick expanded and stretched out. His eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip watching it expand and grow bigger. Mikey got up and left the gym, in such a rush he forgot his bag, he got in his car feeling another surge of growth. Driving home as fast as he legally could Mikey anxiously rubbed his groin feeling a surge of pleasure as he touched it. He wanted to lift up his waist band but was even more desperate to enjoy himself as soon as he saw what was under it.

Mikey pulled up in his driveway getting out of his car, feeling what felt like his balls now so big they rubbed against his thighs. Suddenly another pulse of growth washed over his groin.

"AWWWW FUCCKKKKKKK" Mikey moaned out falling back to lean on the side of his car.

Mikey tried to run to his door but it was more of a waddle feeling the squeeze in-between his legs, Mikey shut his door and leant against it, staring up at the ceiling he moaned feeling one last massive surge. **RIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP**

Mikey heard his gym shorts tear apart and felt his underwear snap. Mikey let out a excited laugh looking down at his new package but it wasn't his dick that he saw. Mikey's face quickly soured as he saw a massive pink udder sagging in place of where his dick would be.

"w..w...w-WHAT THE FUCK" Mikey started to panic, grabbing onto one of his new four dick.

Another sudden pulse hit him and Mikey watched as his new sagging udder swelled up even more he felt it become tight, and then painfully tight, completely full.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DICK"

Mikey slid down against his door until he was sitting on the floor. He placed both his hands around the massive round udder. All four of his dicks began to leak pre.

"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"

Mikey started jerking one of his dicks, his head fell back slamming against the door as he felt the best pleasure he's felt in his entire life. It was barely 30 second before he came and his dick squirted cum over his chest and wall. Mikey couldn't help but move onto the next one, feeling the intense pleasure, and again and then again. By the time he finished one another was rock solid. Mikey stood up wiping the cum off his massive body, moaning at his full cock udder than still felt like it was gonna burst.

Mikey walked to his bedroom and saw his huge body in the mirror, he flexed and posed his new huge muscles, he was the biggest man he's ever seen. His body took up most of his mirror and his giant hand struggled to hold his phone. His eyes wondered down his enormous frame.

Mikey let out a deep sigh dropping his phone on the ground. He stared at the massive cock udder that was now the size of a beach ball. He wrapped both his hands around his, jiggling it up and down hearing sloshing from inside. The four dicks instantly became hard from the slightest touch. Mikey have it a slight squeeze watching as all four dicks squirted cum onto his mirror.

"Oh god, I look like a fucking cow..."

---

hope you ladz can enjoy this one, its been a while and I'm trying to get back into the swing of it all.

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Five

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count:  1531

Warnings: reader learning archer, sassy bjorn, emotionally complex ivar, threats, time travel, drinking, hangover

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three Part four

Masterlist Here

Last night had been the first truly relaxing nights of your stay so far. You drank, sang guitar round a campfire on the beach, learned some Viking songs and tall tales, and now woke up with a splitting hangover. “Time to get up,” Ubbe said as he opened the door.

You just grumbled in response, pulling the covers further over your head. You heard sighing then footsteps then suddenly felt the shivering cold. Ubbe stood grinning over your, “Revenge,” he grinned down at you, offering you a hand.

“Die,” you grumbled, burying your head into the pillow.

You could hear laughter from the door, “Finally becoming one of us,” Ivar, you think, laughed.

“Or worse. she’s becoming like you,” Sigurd’s teasing led to more cursing, some thuds, and Ubbe running to split up some kind of fight as you sat up in bed. This was going to be a long day.

-

“Why do I need to learn this?” you whined as Hvitserk helped you load an arrow onto your bow.

“Well if you like to eat you need to learn how to shoot,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd leant against a tree to watch your struggles. Ivar was sat just a few feet away on a cut down tree.

all boys were noticeably behind you as they watched the arrow sink into a tree three feet from your target. Hvitserk helped you load another arrow before making the mistake of joking to a very hungover, very fed-up woman. “How are you getting worse?”

You huffed, spinning around still holding the bow making all the boys duck. Even Hvitserk jumped away, “Watch where you point that thing!” Sigurd said, hands covering his face.

“Scared of some little girl?” Ivar laughed. Though it stopped when you turned the arrow at him. He held his hands in the air in mock defence, “I thought we were friends,”

“Don’t test me,” you grumbled, turning back to the target. “This was so much easier on the Wii,”

“What’s a Wii?” you sighed as the four asked in unison. Instead of answering you ignored them, rolling your shoulders back before taking aim again. Breathe in, breathe out, and release.

Thud. The arrow hit the edge of the target. “You’ll get there- “Ubbe tried to speak but you cut him off.

“I did it!” you almost screamed, jumping up and down. “Ha take that!” you said, thrusting the bow up like you’d won the Olympics making the boys laugh.

“Please if we were hunting not only would you scare away the deer, but you only would’ve shot his ankle,” Hvitserk said, as he pulled out another arrow for you to use.

You rolled your eyes as you loaded it yourself this time, all be it with a slight struggle without his wins, “Don’t you guys ever celebrate the small victories?”

“What’s the point of that?” Ubbe asked with all seriousness.

“For motivation? To be happy?” you said, like it was the most obvious thing as you lined up your shot. Breathe in and release. “See!” you said, the arrow now slightly closer to the centre than before, “Positive thinking gets you places,”

“Yeah, like the bottom of a pile of dead bodies,” Ivar chortled.

You turned around with a sickeningly sweet smile, “Would you like to be one of them?”

A small smirk formed on his face as the other boys laughed. You felt Hvitserk place his arm over your shoulder, “Oh you’ll fit in nicely soon enough,”

-

By the end of archery practise you were now able to hit the target each time. Not the centre but still. Progress was there. Then it was there turn to do their real practising. Watching Ivar hit the bullseye with his axe each time as he glared at Sigurd made you thankful guns weren’t invented here. You almost told them about them but even if they were nice to you, you didn’t need to give them anymore ideas.

By the time you got back to Kattegat the sun was beginning to set and dinner was nearly ready. Bjorn joined you once again. Apparently, this was unusual for the Ironborn however it was Hvitserk who told you this and you quickly learned he was a massive gossip. Not that you were complaining. However thankfully for you Ragnar and Aslaug were not joining you. Its not that you didn’t like them, but Ragnar asked you a million question while she had a way of staring through your sole.

Somehow you ended up between him and Ivar and any time someone told a story your legend you didn’t understand he was quick to whisper in your ear. “What lies are you telling her brother?” Bjorn, who was sat across from you, asked as he was telling a story of his latest travels.

“That you truly are as tough as you look,” Hvitserk smirked. Despite not having Ivar’s rage or Sigurd’s instigation, Hvitserk was clearly able to hold his own.

Bjorn hummed disapprovingly before turning back to you, “How unfortunate you travel all this way to be stuck with these fools,” he said, glancing round the table, “Not a real man among them,”

“Maybe,” you said, deciding if you were going to be surrounded by argumentative Vikings you may as well try fit in, “Or maybe we have a different definition of a real man,”

“And what would your definition be?” he asked, putting his elbows on the table, and leaning in closer.

His eyes were locked on yours, so you decided instead to let yours look him up and down before sitting back, “Why? Do you need some lessons on how to be one?”

The younger Ragnorsson’s sniggered while Ubbe watched the whole scene carefully. Your eyes stayed locked on Bjorn’s until he sat back in his chair with a smile, “There’s hope for you yet, little one,” he said before dropping the smile, “Though I don’t recommend questioning me again,” The sight made your blood run cold but you did your best to smile, bringing a cup of wine to your lips as the meal soon continued.

-

Somehow you managed to escape from the brothers while they were distracted by finding a new crate of ale. While drinking wasn’t exactly restricted in university, they drank like it was a sport and there was no way you could keep up.

Even though you now wore a Vikings dress and apron there was some things from home you couldn’t let go of; modern underwear and sleeping in a comfy t-shirt. It was the one you had arrived in though admittedly you were going to have to wash it and your other clothes soon. The issue was that meant asking one of the brothers where or how to wash it and you had no desire for them to see these items. Well not yet at least.

 When you got back to your room you slipped out the starched dress and into the soft cotton shirt and got under your furs about to sleep. Before you could however the door opened. “Ivar?”

“My brothers bore me,” he sighed as he crawled over to your bed. You pulled the furs slightly closer, realising you only had the t-shirt on as your cheeks flushed. Ivar took no notice as he pulled himself up to sit beside you, “You were the only interesting one there,”

“A little flattery goes a long way,” you said but he quirked his head at that, “It’s an expression where I’m from,”

“Is flattery not a good thing?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Depends. My professor told me flattery and insults raise the same question; what do you want? Though I think he stole that from someone,”

“Well, all I want is your company,” he answered and at rare moments when you were alone Ivar didn’t look blood thirsty and terrifying. In fact, he seemed kind of gentle as he let a small smile escape. You couldn’t help letting out a light laugh, “Though I don’t understand how someone can steal words,”

Again, you shrugged, “I guess our people just value different things,” you said as a silence washed over you both.

After a few moments Ivar broke it, “I don’t think so. I think, deep down, all we all want is to be safe,” he said it quietly, as if he was worried someone may eaves drop.

It broke your heart a little though, “I suppose but I would’ve said happy,”

“Happy is a dangerous emotion,” he said, staring off into the distance, “everyone craves it, so they chase it, but they assume there is only so much of it to go around so they steal it. I do not need to be happy. Just content,”

You weren’t sure why you grabbed his hand, but you gave it a soft squeeze. His cheeks tinged pink, but you pretended not to notice, “I think content is a different kind of happy. Maybe if we were all so content with it, we could all be happy,”

“Maybe,”

“It’s a dangerous word,” you said.

Ivar snorted, “How can a word be dangerous?”

“How can happiness be?” you shot back with a small smile.

Taglist Sign Up Here

General Taglist

@itsmathilda @tessakate @ravenmoore14 @obx-josie18 @427120lxld @meg-ro @headinfantasy @strvngestark @jjkjbhj @perla434 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @selenestar78 @randomstory56 @qardasngan @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @luvdella @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101 @tiinkerbell @the-holy-pidgeon @andreaxxx44 @winterklls @bdudette @f1uveryysblog @ellamarvete @pear-1206 @mushupork4u @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @mbruben-stien

Vikings Taglist (part one)

@tessakate @hypocritic-trash-baby @ringpopdust @bellroclucky03 @thefirebreather00 @ellabellabus07 @sashadevil766 @younjo @eldritch-bunny-teeth @re-per @marchuuu @dreamspirit666 @sununicorn @vlynccx @goldenheart703 @huskyhunny @cathattery @moneypriestess @kanday @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @the-holy-pigeon